Wrath of the Fury Blade

by Geoff Habiger

  “No. It’s Ansee,” he managed to say, clearly enunciating his name.

  “Hmm. I must have misheard you,” Reva said. She’d been informed of Ansee’s nickname from Constable Pfallé as she’d picked up the bracers. She’d purposely snuck up on the Seeker to see what would happen. He’s not Cas, that’s for sure.

  “I’m Constable Inspector Reva Lunaria. I don’t stand by a lot of the rank and saluting hawkshit.” She set one of the pair of bracers on the driest part of the table and began buckling on the other pair.

  “In public you can call me CI or Inspector. In private you may call me Reva.” She finished buckling on the bracers and pointed to the pair on the table. They were a brilliant red color, trimmed in black, with a maple leaf prominently worked into the leather. “Put these on,” Reva said. “You are out of uniform.”

  Ansee looked down at his own orange-colored bracers for Nul Pfeta Division. They had a pinecone worked into the leather and were trimmed in blue. He began to unbuckle them. “I don’t understand,” he said.

  “You’ve been transferred out of the deadwood of Nul Pfeta Division. You’re my new partner.”

  “Transferred?” Ansee couldn’t help grinning as he buckled on the second bracer. He hadn’t minded working in Nul Pfeta Division. Patrolling in the ghetto that had become the home for the majority of the city’s halpbloeden wasn’t as bad as the rest of the Constabulary made it out to be. Sure, they got almost no funding, and most of the Constables in the division were nothing more than bullies, but Ansee had seen a side of the halpbloeden that few others had. It reinforced his own beliefs that the halpbloeden weren’t the villains everyone made them out to be.

  He’d never thought he’d get the opportunity to work in Acer Division, at least not for many years. There weren’t many opportunities to get out of Nul Pfeta. He finished buckling on the second bracer and stood before Constable Inspector Lunaria. Tea continued to drip from the edge of the table and from the hem of his cloak. He noticed for the first time that the Inspector was not wearing the regulation cloak, breeches, and puttee.

  “Aren’t you out of—” he started to say.

  “It’s my day off,” she brusquely cut him off. “Can’t you tell.” She turned and began walking across the stable. “Bhorii,” she called to a Constable, who turned to her. “Get somebody to clean up my table while we’re out.”

  Bhorii saluted and hurried off. Walking out of the stable and down the stairs Reva said, “I sure hope you know how to swim, Seeker Carya.”

  “Inspector?”

  “You are being thrown into the deep end of the ocean, Seeker.”

  “And there are sharks,” he said. He’d heard the analogy before.

  Reva paused on a step and looked at him. “There are nastier things in the ocean than sharks.”

  Four

  Reva and Ansee climbed aboard a wagon waiting for them inside the New Port gate. Once aboard, the driver flicked the reins and the two horses moved off at a fast clip. The driver yelled out “Make way!” and “Move yur arse!” every other breath.

  They headed down Poplar Hill though Hill Grove and then through Merchant Grove, its streets crowded with morning shoppers. They crossed the River Tenz at King’s Bridge, turning right along Embankment Road, then heading east through River Grove.

  Reva was silent on the trip. She stared across the bench to Ansee sitting across from her, sucking on a strand of her hair. She was pondering Aescel’s parting words. The First Constable was a good boss. He was stubborn and didn’t like being forced into making a decision unless absolutely necessary. This suited Reva, who preferred to see results over the spit and polish that was beloved by some First Constables. Unfortunately for him, it meant Aescel would probably never rise higher than his current rank.

  In all the years that Reva had reported to Aescel, he’d never shown so much concern about a case. He trusted his people to do their jobs right, which meant being careful and not taking unnecessary risks. So why had he told me to be careful? Reva thought. It isn’t like him to be worried. She wasn’t sure what had gotten Aescel spooked, and it was bothering her.

  “What’s it like?” asked Seeker Carya as the wagon turned onto the Grand March, passing the giant red-grey granite pillar with the statue of King Arona atop it.

  “What?” Reva asked.

  “A crime scene…with a body.”

  “You never saw a dead body in Nul Pfeta?” she asked, disbelieving. What kind of Seeker did you ditch on me, Aescel?

  “Oh, there was plenty of death,” Ansee replied. “Mostly due to old age, sickness, malnutrition, things like that. There’s not as many violent deaths as people think.”

  Reva accepted that fact and reminded herself that she’d once had a first experience with a murder too.

  “I don’t know,” she said, answering his original question. “Every murder is different. My first one was a stabbing in a pub in Port Grove. Some adventurers,” she stressed the word, telling Ansee what she thought of the many small groups who freelanced in the Kingdom, “had too much wine and a bar fight ensued. Somebody pulled a dagger and, as usually happens, somebody died. When we got to the scene I was amazed by the amount of blood. I didn’t think a body could hold that much blood. It ran like the ocean and was splattered everywhere.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Stepped gingerly and held my breath a lot. The smell almost got to me, but I managed to not be sick.” She let her eyes focus on something in the distance, recalling the memory. “Funny thing was, later at dinner the sight of a little blood on the pheasant brought it all back and I lost it. I had to run out of the room before I ruined Mother’s tablecloth.” She gave a rueful smile, then turned serious. “You better not vomit and mess up my crime scene.”

  The wagon slowed a bit as the horses pulled them up Castle Hill. Reva looked back down the March toward the river. She took in the tall trees, giant pillars with kings atop them, massive statues, and fountains that glittered in the morning light. It was a beautiful sight, displaying the power of Tenyl to the world.

  The view changed as they turned off the Grand March and made their way through Royal Grove. Well-tended trees and manicured lawns sprawled around large mansions. She could see the red walls of the castle through the trees. The wagon finally came to a stop.

  “We’re here, Inspector,” said the driver.

  Reva and Ansee stepped down. Ansee let out a low whistle at the sight of the place. Reva had to agree. The word rich didn’t seem to do the place justice.

  The mansion was built in that new architectural style she couldn’t remember the name of. It had a ground floor that was a mix of brick and red limestone. The first and second stories were wood and whitewashed plaster. The roof was green slate, with bits of moss growing between the tiles. There were a lot of windows and the place was almost as big as the main building at New Port.

  Reva and Ansee walked across a gravel path to the main entrance. Two Constables stood outside the double doors. They both saluted.

  “Reis se, Aemyr, Olwynn,” Reva said, greeting them. “Where’s the body?”

  “Take the stairs on the right, then down the hall,” said Aemyr, gesturing inside the door. “The Alkies arrived about fifteen minutes ago.”

  Reva nodded. The Alchemists would be setting up their stuff to examine the crime scene. She stuck a thumb at Ansee. “This is Seeker Carya. He’s replacing Cas. Joined us from Nul Pfeta this morning.”

  The pair of Constables grimaced. “Bet you’re glad to be out of that hell hole,” said Olwynn.

  Ansee gave a polite smile and followed Reva into the mansion.

  Their steps echoed across the polished wood floor. Off to the left, Ansee saw a group of a dozen servants in a large dining room who were being questioned by a pair of Constables. Reva held up a hand to one of them, indicating that she was going upstairs first. The Constable n
odded and went back to the interviews.

  The smell hit Ansee at the top of the stairs. It was the iron smell of blood combined with the stench of a latrine. He wrinkled his nose at the foul odor and tried to keep from gagging.

  Reva took purposeful strides down the hall and stopped at an open doorway. The door had been removed and was leaning against the opposite wall in the hallway. Ansee saw splatters of blood on the inside of the door.

  “Good morning, Thea,” Reva said in greeting.

  Alchemist Thea Bromide looked up at Reva. “Maybe for you, but not for this fellow.” She gestured at the body.

  Reva had been a Constable for just over thirty-two years. She’d spent ten years as a Constable, walking a patrol in the Groves, then another seven years as Senior Constable in Acer Division before being promoted to Inspector. She’d been promoted to her current rank of Constable Inspector just five years later. In all that time, she had witnessed a lot of death: stabbings, falls, poisonings, suicide, attacks from monsters, and maulings by undead. There’d been the elf who was impaled on a fence post after being pushed from a roof, and a human in the docks who’d had his arm ripped off by an enraged bugbear. She’d even seen an elf who’d been beheaded, with his head placed in his hands as a warning. But nothing she’d seen before prepared her for this.

  The body lay just inside the room. Its position in front of the door explained why the door had been removed; the body had blocked it from being opened. The room was a library, or maybe a study, decorated in a Wood Elf style that must have cost a lot of crowns. Morning light shown through irregularly shaped windows that were all closed.

  The body of First Magistrate Lavalé fey Avecath lay in a pool of its own blood, organs, and bone. It was severed in two, cut completely in half from head to groin. The arms were spread wide and the legs bent where the two halves of the body had fallen. A shadow cast from the large desk in the room fell across the body.

  Reva took a wide step into the room to avoid the pool of blood. It was hard to gauge the expression on the First Magistrate’s face—the skin was distorted where the cut had been made—but Reva thought it was one of shock and surprise.

  Ansee stepped in behind CI Lunaria. He took one look at the body and unconsciously raised a hand to his forehead to make a sign to ward off evil.

  Reva stepped closer to the body, careful still to avoid the blood. She began to pick out other details. A dagger lay by the Magistrate’s right hand, coated in blood. He’d been wearing a light green linen shirt with dark green silk trim and an embroidered vest of green and gold silk. He had on riding breeches but wore soft leather house shoes. On the collar of the vest was an enamel pin, now coated in blood. His ring of office was still on his left hand and he wore two other rings, one gold, the other silver, or possibly platinum.

  She stepped back to let Thea do her job.

  “Are they all this bad?” Ansee asked.

  “No. This is the worst I’ve ever seen.”

  Two other Alchemists were in the room. Rianna was busy making a map, sketching the location of the body and all the other objects in the room. Her partner, Loren, was over by the bookcases, taking an inventory and looking at a painting on the wall.

  “Shouldn’t that be ‘lays’?” Loren asked, gesturing at the painting.

  Reva and Ansee stepped over to look. It was a very good painting of a wood elf glade.

  “A Ramil,” Ansee said, recognizing the painter’s style. “Or at least a very good copy.”

  “It’s ruined now,” commented Loren.

  Words had been written onto the painting in bold, dripping strokes of what could only be blood.

  Lies in shadow no more

  the red Light reveals

  the masquerade

  “Shouldn’t that be ‘lays in shadow no more’?” asked Loren again. He turned to look at the body, in the shadow of the desk. “The killer got that wrong.”

  Reva kept quiet, not speculating on anything yet. She turned back to look at the body, then walked over to the desk. Papers were scattered about the desk in a disorganized jumble. “Was the door locked?” she asked.

  “Yes,” replied Thea as she set out five large quartz crystals. “They apparently had a hard time getting the door open. Seems the First Magistrate had the only key on him.”

  Reva nodded.

  “What do you want me to do?” asked Ansee.

  “Cas always started with a check for magical auras,” Reva replied, annoyed, her tone implying that Ansee should know this. “You did prepare all the spells before your shift per the regulations, didn’t you?”

  Ansee nodded his head, embarrassed. “Yes, I prepared the spells this morning.” He knew that checking for auras was always the first thing you did at a crime scene. Magical auras faded over time and it was important to check for them as soon as possible. Since the rate at which an aura faded over time was a known constant, depending on the magical discipline, an aura’s strength could tell you how long ago the magic had interacted with the surroundings.

  Ansee began incanting, “Bana sihirli ışığı göster.” His eyes took on a soft golden glow, illuminated like the eye shine of a cat.

  Reva watched her new Seeker carefully. The spell was similar to the one Cas had always used, but Cas had required a magical focus—for Cas it had been a carved yew staff—to focus the magic she’d been taught. Ansee hadn’t used any focus that she could see. Plus, his incantation was different than what Cas had used. Reva had heard Cas intone it often enough that Reva was sure she could recite it herself. Maybe he learned the spell differently, she thought, and uses a different focus for his magic. I don’t care as long as he gets the job done.

  Ansee glanced around the room. A few of the books and objects on the shelves gave off subtle orange and red glows. “Some of his possessions are magical,” he said, pointing at them.

  “Make sure you get a complete inventory,” Reva said to Loren. “I want to know if anything is missing.”

  Ansee turned to look at the windows. There was a bright blue glow on the floor by the far window. He took a step toward the aura to get a better look. “A transformation spell was used here, maybe two—or possibly the same spell at two different times. There’s a slight change, suggesting two overlapping auras.”

  He continued his survey of the room, looking at the desk and the body. The crystals that Alchemist Bromide had set up around the body glowed with a bright golden aura. The dagger glowed with a red aura through the blood. One of the rings also glowed with a red light. The body itself had a bright red aura along the edges where the cut had been made.

  “The First Magistrate was cut by a strongly enchanted weapon, based on the strength of the aura. It’s also of a uniform strength, suggesting that he was cut in a single blow. Oh my…”

  Reva had been looking around the room as she listened to Seeker Carya. She turned to see him staring up at the ceiling. She stepped over and looked up. She could just make out a fine cut in the ceiling, about nine hands long.

  To Ansee, the cut in the ceiling glowed with the same bright red aura as the wounds on the body.

  Reva looked from the ceiling to the body, then back to the ceiling, and then to the chair behind the desk. “Anything behind the desk?” she asked, not bothering to hide her annoyance. Cas would have already checked.

  Ansee quickly stepped around and could see a light green aura. He nodded, “Yes, somebody cast an alteration spell, or had one in effect, and was sitting here. There are no other auras in the room,” he said. He blinked a couple of times and the golden glow faded from his eyes as the spell ended.

  Reva walked over to the windows. They were all closed and latched, except for the one where Ansee had seen the aura. She reached up and easily pushed the window open with her finger.

  Ansee walked over and stood next to her. “Why are the other windows shut and latched?” he aske
d. “It was pretty hot all day yesterday and well into last night. Surely the First Magistrate would have had the windows open to catch the breeze.”

  “Maybe our killer was trying to hide how he got in,” Reva said. She didn’t think that was the case and wanted to see how Seeker Carya would respond. She knew what Cas would have said.

  “With all due respect, Inspector,” Ansee said, “that’s a crock of night soil.”

  Reva raised one eyebrow. Cas would have made the same comment, although she’d have probably said Reva was full of hawkshit.

  “The killer had to know that a Seeker would be called to the scene. Anybody who’s seen one of those modern mystery plays knows that. So they’d know that we’d see the aura, and we’d know how he got in.”

  Reva nodded and turned back to the desk. She reached out her hand to shuffle through the papers on the desk.

  “Stop, Inspector!”

  The command—and it was definitely a command—was full of arrogant authority and came from the doorway. Reva looked up and frowned. “Inquisitor Ailan Malvaceä, what a pleasant surprise.” She didn’t bother to hide the disdain in her voice.

  “Senior Inquisitor, Constable Inspector Lunaria.”

  “I hadn’t heard you’d been promoted. Who’d you have to kill,” Reva said, again not bothering to hide her sarcasm.

  Ansee looked from the Inspector to the Sucra officer. He could feel the tension between the two. Even allowing for the known inter-agency rivalry between the Constabulary and the Sucra, it was clear that there was more going on here at a personal level.

  Senior Inquisitor Malvaceä ignored her and stepped into the room, giving the body a glance. Reva inwardly smiled as she saw him pale just a bit. Good.

  Malvaceä wore a dark green hooded cloak that bordered on black. It was clasped with a silver cloak pin intricately worked into the shape of an eye, with an opal set where the pupil would be. Under the cloak he wore a chainmail and leather tunic under a shirt of black linen. He wore calf-length black leather riding boots polished to a high sheen and had on black jodhpurs flared at the hips. His hair was light blond and cut short, barely coming down to his ears. He had tan skin the color of faded fir. He glanced up from the body and gave Reva a critical look with light blue eyes.