by Barb Hendee
"My thoughts?" Magiere asked.
"I want to know if you think the killer is a madman or… or something else, and if the deaths are truly connected."
She climbed out the wagon's back. What could any of this matter to the woman's family?
The sun was rising. Magiere felt it on her back as she spotted the weary figure of Lanjov standing on the house's front steps. She passed through the open gate and up the walk toward him.
"I'm sorry," she said and meant it.
He simply nodded, his expression guarded and beaten at the same time.
"Thank you for coming so early. I was not sure what else to do, so I asked the captain to bring you."
"Is it the same?" she asked.
"Yes, both of them," Lanjov answered, and then added as an afterthought, "but the young woman was found in an alley."
His steel hair looked limp and simply gray as dawn began. Magiere couldn't help feeling pity.
Leesil came up quietly beside her, and she was grateful for his presence. He often picked up details that she didn't. Chap sniffed around on the porch, drawing close to Lanjov, who didn't pull away this time. The council chairman motioned them inside, past a sobbing middle-aged maid, through a fair-sized dining room, and down the servants' hall to a back part of the house Lanjov simply referred to as "the kitchens." Magiere entered the macabre scene.
Both bodies were laid out on the large center table with pots and knives hanging above them. Peasants did this for visitation, having no better place to wash the dead before burial, but Magiere was jarred by their lying on a table used for chopping meat and other foods consumed by the wealthy.
"Nothing has been changed or removed from the bodies," Lanjov said, flat and emotionless. "The captain wanted you to see them as found."
"You found him on the front steps?" Leesil asked. "Like Chesna?"
Lanjov nodded. "Yes, across the stairs. The door was not open as with my daughter. His coachman came inside from‘ the rear stable and, not finding Au'shiyn present, stepped out front to discover the body."
Chap reared, placing both paws on the table to sniff at Au'shiyn's body. At this, Lanjov winced and closed his eyes.
Leesil reached out to his dog. "Down, boy."
Magiere winced as well when she looked at Au'shiyn.
His eyes were still open, and one side of the man's throat had been torn away. There were no clean punctures or teeth marks to be seen. The flesh had simply been ripped to veins, and blood covered his clothing all the way to his abdomen.
"His windpipe is crushed," Leesil said, examining the unwounded side of Au'shiyn's throat. He didn't appear remotely squeamish or even moved by any of this, and pointed below the man's chin. "There's a pattern of bruises running around the back of the neck. Fingers. And look at the dark blotch running around front—a thumb."
Leesil walked around the table, his attention turning to the woman's body.
Her grayed, mottled flesh suggested it had been days since her death. She wore a well-made red cotton gown, now soiled with grime from the alley in which she was found. The front was shredded and the shift showed through, but it was spattered rather than soaked with her blood. A tiny red velvet cap was partially pinned to her disheveled hair.
She was small with black hair, and likely of fair complexion when alive.
Magiere looked to Chetnik back in the doorway.
"It's the merchant's daughter-in-law, isn't it?" she asked. "That one in your office the day we came to the barracks."
"I think so," he answered. "I won't be sure until the family identifies the body."
"The wound is different," Leesil broke in, as he leaned against the table's edge staring at her throat. "The teeth marks are clean, no tearing of flesh, and there's less blood on her. This was a feeding. Look at her hair and the bruises on her wrists. At the least, she had time to struggle. Or the creature played with her a bit."
Lanjov averted his eyes, and even Chetnik scowled at that final remark, but Leesil gave them no notice.
"It's unfortunate," he said, "that we don't know more about Chesna's state when she was found."
His gaze skipped back and forth between bodies, and he shook his head ever so slightly. Something bothered him, and Magiere stepped closer.
"What is it?"
"There are no other bruises or marks from a struggle on Au'shiyn, and from his color, the amount of blood on him, and the type of wound, it wasn't a feeding. He died fast, before he could even defend himself."
"They're unconnected?" Chetnik asked with some doubt.
"I'm not certain," Leesil answered. "There's something else wrong here."
"We already know we've been hunting two separate prey," Magiere added.
"Three," Leesil said. "Maybe."
Magiere looked over the bodies again, but couldn't see how he'd come to this conclusion.
"Why three?" she asked.
Leesil remained locked in contemplation.
"These two weren't killed in the same way." His voice was quiet, as if he merely spoke aloud to himself. "Chesna's dress was shredded as if she were… well, ravaged. But then why is Au'shiyn's shirt ripped? The woman had time to struggle but was used as food. Au'shiyn died quickly and wasn't fed upon."
He reached out with two fingers to carefully pull aside the shreds of shirt.
"Look at his chest. No wounds. Though his skin is spattered, it isn't thoroughly coated in blood. The shirt was ripped after the kill… likely after he was dead."
Lanjov stayed back, but Chetnik stepped closer. Magiere looked at the details Leesil pointed out, though it made her throat dry. She saw what Leesil described but still didn't see what it meant.
"Someone wanted a connection between Chesna and Au'shiyn's deaths," Leesil explained. "But was it the same attacker?"
"Perhaps it was the woman you chased out of the Rowanwood," Chetnik suggested.
Magiere looked at Leesil's face, now beginning to catch up.
"No," she answered to the captain's suggestion. "Undeads as a whole are viciously strong, but that woman couldn't take a large man this quickly, not before he could defend himself."
"The bruises on his throat are too large for her hands," Leesil added.
"And I doubt brute strength is her way to snare victims," Magiere finished.
Leesil lifted his gaze to Magiere and nodded toward Au'shiyn's body. "Are you up to trying again?"
For a moment, Magiere was uncertain what he meant. Then she felt sick as she realized he wanted her to have another vision.
"I'm right here," Leesil whispered. "I won't leave your side."
Nausea still threatening, Magiere reached out and touched Au'shiyn's cold, stiff hand. She closed her eyes and waited, anticipating the shock of the world suddenly shifting around her as it had before.
Nothing came. Magiere exhaled, suddenly aware she'd been holding her breath.
Reaching across to the woman, she tried again. The result was the same.
"Maybe it's the place they died," Leesil suggested.
As Magiere turned to leave, Leesil pulled out a stiletto from his sleeve. In the same movement, he sliced a blood-soaked strip from Au'shiyn's shirt and turned toward the kitchen door. As they stepped out the front door, Chap sniffed yet another set of dark stains on stone steps. Lanjov and Chetnik had followed, but Leesil motioned them both to stay inside as he pressed the bloodied cloth into Magiere's hand. When she flinched, he held her hand closed around it.
"It might take both the place and object," he said.
She nodded and stepped down onto the front walk.
Magiere closed her eyes and felt herself walking to the side of the house. She opened her eyes again.
Dawn's light had vanished, to be replaced by the cold dark of night.
A coach pulled up, and she watched as Lord Au'shiyn stepped out. Along with the sights and the smell of damp night air, there was something more inside of Magiere. She could feel anger. Perhaps frustration of some need or desire unfulf
illed.
She stepped from the shadows and followed Au'shiyn as he approached the front door, and felt her hands flex inside leather gloves. In the bottom of her view, the cloak she wore swirled around her, and she felt sharp canines inside her mouth. It wasn't the same as the familiar aching change of her own teeth.
"A word, if you please," she said as she stepped close.
Magiere heard the sound this time, but before she could focus on the deep voice that issued from her mouth, Au'shiyn turned in annoyance and recognition crossed his features.
"Oh, good evening. What brings you here so late?"
Magiere's right hand shot out and grabbed his neck so hard she felt her thumb crush Au'shiyn's windpipe. She tore the left side of his throat open with her teeth, and warm blood ran into her mouth. As with Chesna, she didn't drink.
Au'shiyn choked, unable to breathe. Magiere shook him and blood flowed from his neck to soak into his clothing. She reached out to shred his shirt and—
"Stop it!"
Strong hands gripped her arms, and she spun around as Au'shiyn's image whirled away. She felt herself jerked backward against something hard, as wiry arms wrapped around her. She thrashed to get free.
"Enough!"
The grip around her remained as light poured into the darkness.
Magiere found herself sitting on the porch with her back up against Leesil's chest. Remembering Au'shiyn's fight for air, she choked.
"Leesil?"
"Shhhhhhh," he said. "It's over."
Chetnik now stood in the walk, watching her suspiciously. Magiere curled away from him toward Leesil, leaning her head against the steps' railing.
"It's all right," Leesil said from behind her. "She'll be fine in a minute." Then he whispered in her ear, "Was it the same creature?"
Magiere relaxed at his familiar voice. "Yes… the same one… I think."
She breathed deep and, while hidden from Lanjov's or Chetnik's view, slipped her fingers into her mouth, making sure her teeth were normal. She rose out of Leesil's arms, bracing against the railing as she turned toward Lanjov. He looked embarrassed or revolted by her.
"It's the same one, Lanjov," she said. "Dressed like a noble with black gloves. And it's not a masquerade."
It took a moment to quell the lingering vertigo before she could continue.
"He moves and speaks like one of you, and you're the only connection I can see. Why would any noble want to kill Au'shiyn and your daughter… anything, no matter how far-fetched or minor?"
The councilman looked utterly at a loss. "I don't know any reason. Au'shiyn was strong-willed, but respected by all."
"You're sure of all this?" Chetnik asked Magiere.
"Of course she's sure," Leesil snapped. "We need the name and home address of everyone on the council." He looked directly at Lanjov. "As well as anyone you've worked with through the bank who knew your daughter."
The pain that flashed across Lanjov's face brought Magiere another flicker of pity, but not nearly enough to overcome her frustration with the man's arrogant obstinacy.
"Captain Chetnik will take you to the council hall," Lanjov answered softly. "My aide will provide the information you require."
"Not enough," Leesil added, and he turned on Chetnik. "Shut the city down. Close it off."
Chetnik scowled, hands on his hips, but it was Lanjov who cut in first.
"We cannot do that!" he shouted. "This is the kingdom's main port. Thousands, no, tens of thousands here and elsewhere depend on daily trade through Bela."
Magiere's head swam with afterimages of her vision, making it hard to clearly follow what was being said. With a quick glance at Leesil, his words resurfaced in her mind, and she understood.
"We can't let these things out of reach," she said. "Will your precious trade continue if more bodies are found? What ship's captain would harbor here? And there won't be a farmer or merchant in the region who'd risk coming to market."
"So you'd lock us all in?" Lanjov retorted in panic. "This cannot be done."
"Yes, it can," Chetnik cut in.
Lanjov looked at him in stunned disbelief, but the captain continued.
"If any of these creatures escape, they'll move on to another town or cluster of villages. And the killing starts all over again." He looked at Magiere sternly. "But we're not doing this your way."
"How then?" Magiere insisted.
Chetnik cast one last glance at Lanjov, as if fed up with political influences.
"These things move only at night, correct?" he asked.
Magiere nodded. "We've never heard of or seen one move in daylight."
"Then night is the only time they can leave," Chetnik said. "Commerce continues for the day, and there's little or no business done past dusk. I'll double the watch by day and night, but we'll lock the city up only before dusk."
"Except the sewers," Leesil added. "Seal the bayside spillways and keep them guarded at all times."
Chetnik became immediately disagreeable. "If it comes to that, better to send my men into the sewers and flush these things out."
"If you want to lose half of them," Magiere replied. "You don't know what you're dealing with, and we don't have time to teach you, so stay out of it. Just tell your men to keep the bayside grates locked down."
Lanjov ran his hands over his face and through his hair. Chetnik finally nodded agreement.
"Take us to the courthouse. We need that list," Magiere said more calmly.
Chetnik didn't answer for a moment. "We still need to talk about the Rowanwood."
Magiere indicated the councilman with a lift of her chin. "They can pay for it."
When the captain looked up the steps, Lanjov nodded without a word. Chetnik stepped purposefully down the walk toward the wagon.
Magiere tried to follow but lost her balance, and Leesil caught her. This vision had been quick but more intense than the last.
"Looks like we're the villagers this time," Leesil muttered, as he half supported her down the walk.
"What?" Magiere replied.
"Au'shiyn's body… that mimic killing, even if it is the same creature," he said, but then saw that his answer still mystified her. "We're the ones being played. Someone's on the game here, and it isn't us this time."
The coach rolled up to the next house on their list, and Magiere kept her emotions in check. Flickering images of Au'shiyn's death and the little velvet cap hanging by a thread from the dead woman's hair drifted through her mind. Two more deaths, and they still had no clear idea where to find the undeads of this city.
Leesil believed the woman's blood had been consumed, but what if he was wrong about the third Noble Dead? Her visions were both of one, from what she'd could tell, and what if Sapphire had killed the young woman?
"I shouldn't have given up my sword at the Rowanwood," she said to Leesil, bitterness in her voice. "I could have taken her head."
He turned from gazing out of the coach window.
"Forget it. You can't change the past—only alter the present and future."
His words pulled her out of her guilt. "Are you trying to spout wisdom?"
"It's true." He shrugged. "We can never change what's passed, no matter how much we might want to."
Without giving him the satisfaction of knowing it, Magiere felt a little better, though still somber. He was right, once again, and it was wasted effort to think otherwise.
"I want something to fight," she said.
He grinned. "I'm contagious."
"Sure," she muttered under her breath, "fleas, laziness, vices…"
"I don't have fleas."
He pushed open the door and stepped to the ground, pulling out bits of fabric from Sapphire's and Chesna's clothing.
"They're both lavender," he mused. "I never noticed that before."
"It doesn't mean anything"—she looked briefly at the scraps—"except they both had a great deal of coin to spend. Chap, come on."
Armed with a list of Bela's council members
, but not ready to start pounding on the doors of the elite, they were counting on Chap. He'd tracked Miiska's undead to the warehouse, so they hoped he might sense something if they stumbled upon one here. One by one, they worked through half the list, moving from house to house as Chap sniffed his way around each building. But nothing had come of it.
Chap stepped to the coach door, eyes taking in the street.
"Come on," Leesil said. "To the house."
Leesil held out the cloth scraps, but the dog ignored them, hanging his head as if he had no further interest in their scent. He stepped out and walked up to the house's front gate, sniffed the iron bars a few times, and then trotted back to the coach and jumped in.
"Get your mangy backside out of there!" Magiere scolded. "This is important."
The coachman glanced over his shoulder as if they were all mad, and settled back in his seat.
Inside the coach, Chap dropped his haunches to the floor with a low, grumbling whine.
"This isn't it," Leesil said, the words spoken slowly, like a gradual realization. "He knows this isn't it—and he wants to move on."
"He's just a dog," Magiere answered in exasperation. "Smarter than most, I'll grant, but he can't possibly know what we're doing. He's merely tired of this, probably more than you or I."
But the moment those words left her mouth, she looked into Chap's translucent blue eyes and felt certain Leesil was right. This was indeed not the house.
She climbed back into the coach, snatched the list off the seat, and handed it to Leesil.
"Give the driver our next stop."
Chap crawled upon the seat opposite her, panting softly.
Au'shiyn's dying face peered back at Magiere each time she blinked or closed her eyes. And behind the Suman's sagging head, Chesna watched her with an ashen face.
Chapter 13
Again, Leesil sat alone in his room unable to sleep. Perched on the bed's edge, he stared at the burning candle, watching wax drip into the baked clay holder.
Neither he nor Magiere could find a solid link between Sapphire, Lanjov's daughter, Lord Au'shiyn, and the young woman they'd examined that morning. Instinct told him if he found that link, the question of location might be answered. Completing their duty would simply be a matter of hunting down undeads. He knew how to do the latter, but the former still eluded them.
