Wrath of the Fury Blade

by Geoff Habiger

  “And after that,” Reva persisted.

  “I went and found a Constable to report a murder.” Roya seemed to straighten up a little in his chair.

  “Did you leave by the main entrance?”

  “Of course! I didn’t want to go anywhere near the body.”

  “And you didn’t touch anything in the room or on the body?”

  “Certainly not!” There was indignation in his voice, along with a touch of revulsion.

  “Please, Mr. Locera. Roya. I’m just trying to establish the facts of the case.”

  Roya nodded and then said, “I did not touch the body or anything else in the room. I walked in, found Aucarii’s body, and then walked out.”

  Reva made a note and changed to a new question. “Did Olea Aucarii have any enemies that you knew about? Anybody that would want him dead?”

  “Not that I know of. Everybody in Pfeta fey Orung liked Aucarii. I don’t think anybody in the order could lure him here and kill him like that.”

  “Why do you say that?” asked Reva.

  “What?”

  “You said somebody lured Aucarii here. Why do you think he was lured here?”

  “Well,” Roya waved a hand toward the door. “That bright light was shining down on the seal in the rotunda. That light doesn’t belong there, so it looks like somebody wanted to stop him there. And why else would Olea be here so early in the morning unless he’d been lured to come here?”

  Reva made a note. “So Aucarii didn’t usually come in early?”

  “He showed up around lunch each day. He never had appointments for earlier in the day.”

  “So he didn’t come in early at all?”

  “No,” Roya confirmed.

  “Never? He never once came in early?”

  Roya shook his head.

  “Not for breakfast, or to have cacao with an important member of the order?”

  “That’s what I said!” Roya’s voice rose a bit in annoyance.

  “And yet he did come in early. Why?”

  “How should I know?”

  “Well, you seem to know that Olea never came in before lunch. What would be so important that he’d break that habit?”

  Roya shrugged but said nothing.

  “Come now,” Reva chided. “Why would Olea come in early today? Why would he come in early at all? You just said that he never came in early. So what was different today? What could have gotten him to come in early today?”

  “I don’t know!” Roya nearly shouted. “Maybe the note said it was urgent that he be here at that time!”

  What note? Reva jotted that down but didn’t say anything. “Who will head Pfeta fey Orung now?” she asked quickly, changing direction.

  Roya seemed confused by the new question but said, “I don’t know.”

  “There’s no line of succession?”

  “No. The head of the order is elected to the position by members of Knehtlaar Quercus.”

  “Has this happened before?”

  “A murder? No. But we’ve had some heads of the order die of natural causes while holding the position. The members of Knehtlaar Quercus will hold a conclave within a fortnight to elect a new leader.”

  “Are there any strong contenders for the position?”

  “A few days ago I would have said First Magistrate Avecath would have succeeded. Now I would think that Orem Sedgeworth and Aeryn Tacäe might see an opportunity to lead the order. I could see one or both of them step out on a branch. But anybody who is a member of the Knight Oaks can announce their candidacy for the position.”

  “Have any of your members expressed doubts about Aucarii’s leadership, or maybe been angered by any of his decisions?”

  Roya paled a bit. “Inspector, are you suggesting that a member of Pfeta fey Orung might have killed Olea merely to become head of the order?” He gave a bitter laugh.

  “We have to check out all potential leads. You’d be surprised what people can do.” Reva made some more notes and sighed inwardly. Luminary Sedgeworth would be one of the potential candidates. Nothing like creating a hostile witness before you’ve even had a chance to talk to them. I’ll send Ansee to talk to him. Not only would the Luminary be more likely to talk to Ansee, sending him would keep Ansee from stealing any more of the credit.

  Reva closed her notebook and set it in her lap. A ray of light from the windows was now shining directly in her eyes and she could feel the start of a headache building in her temple. She could feel the weariness building in her again. She needed another hit of Wake. That would refresh her and help with the headache, too. She caught her hand reaching involuntarily for the pocket where the tin of Wake was kept. She forced her hand down.

  “Thank you, Mr. Locera. That’s all the questions I have for now.” She stood up. “Constable Silverbough will escort you out.”

  Reva turned and left the sitting room. The rotunda was busy with Thea and her assistants cataloging the scene. Loren was grabbing chunks of the body and placing them on a large piece of canvas that was laid out away from the blood. Rianna was up on the balcony, sketching the lamp, and Thea was drawing a diagram of where the body parts were in relation to the room. Reva didn’t see Constable Ghrellstone or Ansee; they must still be outside.

  Good. She turned and headed away from the scene toward a small alcove off the rotunda, her hand already reaching for her pocket.

  Twenty-three

  Ansee had followed the bloody footprints out of the rotunda and down a short hall to a door. The door opened onto an alley that snaked behind Pfeta fey Orung. The footprints quickly disappeared into the dirt and gravel of the alley, but Ansee cast a spell that allowed him to track the killer’s path despite the lack of blood. He’d followed the trail down the alley for about thirty paces before the track disappeared as well.

  Ansee shook his head in frustration and then re-cast the spell that allowed him to see magical auras. He was not surprised to find a moderately strong blue aura at the spot where the path ended. After Ansee’s own encounter with the killer yesterday, he knew that the killer favored using a potion that transformed his body and possessions into a gaseous form. This was consistent with the killer’s pattern at the other crime scenes.

  Ansee pulled out a quartz crystal and knelt to collect the aura, even though a part of him felt it was a fruitless task. He’d be able to compare it to the other auras he’d collected, and it was even possible that they were all from the same source. The fact that the killer was using a potion suggested that he wasn’t a magic user, but potions were easy to come by for those who had the money, which meant that they were hard to trace. Since potions were sold at so many shops, there was no guarantee that they were all from the same shop, or even that they were made here in Tenyl. Since one also never knew what evidence might break a case, Ansee sighed and collected the aura.

  Feet crunched on the dirt behind Ansee, and he turned around with a start to see Senior Constable Ghrellstone walking up. “Oh, hello, Constable.”

  “Didn’t mean to startle you, Seeker Carya.”

  “I’m just a bit jumpy after yesterday.”

  “I can understand that. You know,” Willem rubbed a hand across his chin, “I was impressed by how well you defended yourself yesterday.”

  “It wasn’t enough,” Ansee huffed. “I let our killer escape and he managed to kill again.”

  “You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.”

  Ansee stood up and pointed back toward Pfeta fey Orung. “There’s a dead elf back there who’d be alive today if I’d done my job yesterday! His death is on my hands!”

  Willem stared at Ansee for a moment, his arms crossed across his broad chest. “Hawkshit,” he finally said. “You are not responsible for his death.”

  “I’m not?” Ansee nearly yelled, incredulous. “How in the hells not? I didn’t stop the killer w
hen I had the chance, so he was free to kill again.”

  “Can I ask you something, Seeker?”

  Ansee glared at Willem, but didn’t say anything.

  “Did you do everything in your power to stop the killer?” Willem’s voice was even, not accusing.

  “No,” Ansee snapped.

  “What could you have done differently?”

  “I should have hit him with a spell to incapacitate him.”

  “So why didn’t you?”

  “I didn’t have time!”

  “No time to cast a spell, because he was too fast, right?”

  “Yeah,” Ansee said, recalling the fight. He’d lived through it and had recounted it to Reva this morning, but until now, he’d not taken time to analyze what had happened. “He was too fast—faster than normal. He must have been magically enhanced. The blows from the sword fell like lightning strikes.”

  “That you managed to parry.”

  “Most of them.” Ansee absently rubbed at his right side. “But some of them got through.”

  “What would have happened if you’d tried to cast an attack spell?”

  “He’d have landed some good blows on me.”

  “But I thought you had a protection spell active?”

  “I did, but it didn’t stop the blows completely. They still managed to get through and hurt me. And,” Ansee held up a finger to make his point, “it was a short duration spell. It’s not meant for long combats. I doubt the spell would have lasted but for a few more seconds.”

  “So what options did you have?” prompted Willem. He’d performed plenty of post-combat reviews over the years; he knew how important it was to talk someone through the events to be able to determine where they’d gone wrong, and what they’d done right.

  “Retreat,” Ansee said, counting off with a finger, “but that would have let him get away. Stay and fight,” he held up another finger, “but I couldn’t keep fighting him on his terms; I’d eventually lose that fight. And I couldn’t take the time to cast an attack spell since he might have killed me while I was casting it. And while my attack spells are effective, there’s always a chance that something could go wrong. For all I knew, in addition to the magic sword he could have had some magic item that could have resisted or deflected my spell.”

  Willem nodded at Ansee’s analysis. The event was recent enough to still be fresh in his mind, but enough time had passed that he was able to look at it with some reflection. “So what was your last option?”

  “Call for backup and hope I could hold out until help arrived.”

  “Which you managed to do. You know, Seeker Carya,” Willem said sagely, “you did everything right during that battle. You made all the right choices and managed to hold your own against a stronger opponent until help did arrive.”

  “But he got away,” Ansee protested.

  Willem shrugged, his leather armor creaking. “Sometimes the bad guy gets away even when you do everything right. But he didn’t get away because you did anything wrong.”

  Ansee looked down at the dirt, walking through the attack in his mind. Finally, he nodded his head slowly. He had done everything he could to stop the killer. He looked up at Constable Ghrellstone. “I’m still angry that he got away.”

  “Anger is fine,” Willem said. “It helps give us the motivation we need to capture the bastard. Just keep in mind that it wasn’t your fault.”

  Ansee nodded. He put the quartz crystal he’d collected the aura with into a cloth bag and jotted the details on the tag. “There’s nothing else. His trail ended here.”

  “More magic?” Willem asked, but it was a rhetorical question. “Where in the hells is he getting his magic?”

  “I’m trying to find that out.” Ansee started walking back toward Pfeta fey Orung. “Let’s go let the Inspector know this was a dead end.”

  “I wasn’t lying earlier, Ansee,” Willem said as they walked back. “I interviewed many of the witnesses to your attack yesterday. From their accounts, and what I could discern of the scene, you did an amazing job of defending yourself. I don’t think there’s more than five or six elves in all of the RTC that could have done better just using a dagger. I’d like to see your technique sometime.”

  “Really?” Ansee paused. He thought the Senior Constable was just being polite.

  “Hells yes. There’s too much emphasis put on sword fighting these days and many of us have forgotten how to use a smaller blade. Sometimes there’s not the space available to use a longsword properly. Or the situation calls for you to be more discreet. I’d like to see what you do.”

  “Sure,” Ansee said. “I’d be happy to show you.”

  They continued back into the building in silence. As they entered the rotunda, Ansee saw that the Alchemists had arrived. Alchemist Bromide was standing over the body and making notes and Loren was setting down body parts on a large canvas laid out across the room. He saw Inspector Lunaria walking toward a small alcove just off the rotunda. Ansee hurried over to make his report, while Willem headed over to check on the other Constables.

  As Ansee approached Reva, he saw her take something from a small box. She held her finger and thumb to her nose, inhaling deeply. In a couple of heartbeats she was done and the box was quickly back in a pocket on her armor.

  Shit. Ansee took a deep breath. He’d suspected she was using Wake when they’d arrived this morning, due to the way Reva had acted with the crowd and her belligerent manner, but having it confirmed so blatantly was disappointing. I need to confront Reva about this now, before it gets out of hand, Ansee decided. And how do I do that? He still didn’t know the Inspector well enough to know how she’d react if he confronted her. But he didn’t want to see Reva succumb to the drug the way his sister had.

  Making a decision, he walked up, making sure his footfalls were heard on the floor. Reva turned around as he approached. He could see that her pupils were dilated. Ansee adopted an embarrassed and worried expression. “Inspector…uh…can we talk in private?”

  Reva nodded and the two of them walked over to a nondescript door. They went into what looked like a smoking room, the odor of fine tabak filling the air. Reva shut the door. “What is it, Seeker?”

  Ansee stood as straight as he could and held out his right hand, palm up. “Give me the Wake, Reva,” he commanded. His voice was firm and authoritative, and for an instant Reva’s hand reached toward the pocket before she stopped herself.

  The action had betrayed her, but she said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. And how dare you accuse me—”

  Ansee’s hand moved in a blur, slapping Reva hard across her left cheek. Shock filled her face. “Why, you piece of shit.” Instinctively she grabbed for her dagger, pulling it out of its sheath at her right hip. Ansee had anticipated the move, expecting it in fact, and quickly disarmed Reva of the weapon, pulling her arm around to her back, twisting her hand up toward a point between her shoulder blades, just like he’d been taught by Senior Constable Juräsee.

  “What the hells are you doing?” Reva demanded.

  “I call it an intervention, Inspector,” Ansee replied. With his free hand, he reached down and pulled Reva’s sword from its sheath. Now that she was disarmed, he released her arm and took a quick step back, holding the sword up toward Reva, who’d turned around, murderous intent in her eyes.

  “Are you trying to get thrown out of the Constabulary? Or are you working with Aescel to sabotage my investigation?” she jabbed a thumb at her chest. “You are! Aescel forced you on me! He wants to ruin my career!”

  Ansee let the accusations flow over him without reacting. He knew the paranoia was a side effect of the Wake. Everyone claimed that Wake was just a harmless stimulant, something to provide a pick-me-up and keep you going when you couldn’t get enough rest. And it did that, really well. But most people—users especially—denied that Wake
had any affects other than as a stimulant. Ansee knew different. Ansee had seen how Wake had affected his sister, Elenor. He’d seen what it could do when abused.

  Wake had made his sister susceptible to suggestions, especially right after she’d taken it. After Elenor had been using Wake for over a year, she’d become extremely paranoid and aggressive. Elenor had become so addicted to Wake that there was nothing that Ansee, his family, or friends could do. They had tried to get her to stop using Wake, taken her supply, and cut her off from anybody who would sell her Wake. But it had all been pointless as one night, in a fit of paranoid rage, Elenor had thrown herself from Queen’s Bridge to drown in the river.

  Now Reva seemed to be showing these symptoms, all at the same time. Ansee was surprised that Reva was showing the symptoms of a long-term Wake user. Between watching Elenor fall prey to the drug, and seeing all the users in Nul Pfeta, he was confident in his ability to spot a long-term user, and Reva hadn’t shown any of the signs until this morning. Reva’s actions today were so indicative of a long-term user that Ansee was sure he’d have noticed when they had first met—such users were rarely able to hide their use for long. That told Ansee that Reva had just started taking the drug since they’d been on the case, possibly as recently as yesterday. He didn’t know why her symptoms were so pronounced, or why they had come on so quickly, but he knew he needed to take extreme action now to break her free of the drug.

  Reva continued to stare at Ansee, her nose flared. “No! It’s Pflamtael, that bastard,” she growled. “You’re working with him. You two are working together so he can take my investigation.” She jabbed a finger at Ansee. “You think he’ll share any of the glory, any of the rewards? Ha! You don’t know who you’re dealing with. You’ve cast your lot in with the wrong elf. He’ll use you and cast you aside, like all of his conquests.” Reva started pacing, throwing glances at Ansee.

  “I won’t let you ruin my investigation. I will take you and Pflamtael, and anybody else involved, down!”

  Ansee followed Reva, keeping the sword pointed toward her. He knew it was pointless to respond as she was not capable of listening to reason in her current state. But he hadn’t completely thought this through either. He wasn’t sure what to do next and if Reva made a lunge at him, he couldn’t do anything without hurting her, and he didn’t want to do that. The only way that he knew to get Reva back to normal was to get her to stop taking the Wake. But how do I do that?