Gwen giggled before releasing Sheridan. “Too late, Sheridan. I learned that trick from you long ago.”
“Hush, don’t let the whole Order hear my secrets,” she said pulling the girl in close by the shoulder. “I am a pillar of virtue and personal sacrifice. Unless of course it means sacrificing my glorious featherbed in Wistholt.”
“What are you doing here?” Gwen finally asked. “I thought you were riding circuit near the Kurinean?”
“What’s a couple hundred leagues to Finalaran, when I go to Wistholt on the other side of the continent, because I have a craving for one of Martha’s snow plum tarts?” Sheridan said dismissively with a wave of her hand. “See, there I go corrupting the youth again.” Sheridan gave a martyred sigh before returning to the task at hand. “Any way, I’m here because Oscar from the Wickcester temple needed these delivered immediately.”
“Oh, Wickcester, that’s right,” Gwen said her ivory-colored hand covering her mouth. “I was supposed to deliver a letter to Wickcester with yesterday’s post. Could you take it back with you?”
“That’s sloppy, Gwen,” Sheridan said narrowing one eye. “Don’t you tarnish the Amserian Order’s good name now.”
“Sorry,” Gwen replied her ears turning red as she blushed.
“Just don’t make a habit of it, lovey,” Sheridan said with a quick hug. “I need to get back before Eve notices I’m gone. Take care, Gwen.”
“Bye, Sheridan!” Gwen waved as she returned to her flowered cushion.
The indigo haze flared in her eyes engulfing her and with a pop she disappeared and reappeared in the same tower room hundreds of leagues away an instant later. Rolling her shoulders, they cracked and resettled as she descended the staircase. Her hand trailed along the wall of the winding corridor before she hopped off the last step. Walking back to the clerk’s office, she flipped over the envelope Gwen had given her and saw the name Reid scrawled across the front.
She pulled up the latch of the door and entered the clerk’s office to see an irritated looking woman who could have been her mirrored reflection except that her brown hair was cut short, close to her scalp. Ignoring the expression on her face, Sheridan turned the envelope back over and saw the dark orange wax seal of an enflamed sword.
“Sheridan, why did you leave me to carry all of our gear in by myself?” the woman asked with her arms crossed.
“Our dear Scion sent us this from Finalaran yesterday, Eve,” Sheridan said waving the letter as she ignored her twin sister’s comment.
“He did?” Eve asked as she sidled up against Sheridan her curiosity dispelling her annoyance. “What would be so important for Tomas to contact us directly?”
“Who knows,” Sheridan shrugged breaking the seal. Registering movement in her peripheral vision, she glanced up from under her thick lashes and saw the shocked expression on Tanner’s face at their casual reference to the head of the Daniyelan Order. She worried out the parchment and once it was free Eve grabbed it and started to read.
“Thanks for that,” Sheridan said with a grimace and a dry tone as she mimed grabbing the paper in the empty air.
Eve stuck her tongue out at her sister as she read the letter. “Well, it appears that our particular talents have been requested for a murder investigation in Montdell.”
“What caustic wit and stunning good looks?” Sheridan asked as she snatched the letter back with a cry of dismay from her sister.
“Well that’s a given,” Eve began as she ran her hand through the short tufts of her hair.
“Why would we be needed in Montdell?” Sheridan asked her brows drawn low. “That's the city where Kaedman's the Daniyelan representative on the council. Why wouldn't he have contacted me himself if something were wrong?”
“Who knows? It’s not as though Tomas gave us much with which to work,” Eve said rereading the note over Sheridan’s shoulder.
“You’re not joking. I’ve seen limericks longer than this. Telling us that the suspects have fled isn’t exactly enlightening. Why would he bring us into this in the first place?”
“Well, being in Wickcester, we’re probably the closest circuit riders if there’s reason to mistrust the objectivity of the Daniyelans stationed there,” Eve suggested with a frown. “It would make sense to bring in circuit riders, if they’ve been compromised.”
Sheridan waved her hand as she reread the letter as if hoping it would divulge new information this time. “I trust Kaedman with my life.”
Eve flattened her lips into a thin line of disapproval. “You give him too much credit.”
“I don’t like this,” Sheridan said tapping the letter against her open palm.
“Of course you don’t.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sheridan said her tone dropping for the first time.
Opening her mouth to say something, she thought better of it. “Look, Sheridan, you don’t like picking somewhere to stay for the night without a detailed explanation of my rationale in making the decision. So Tomas was a bit terse in giving us details, he is the Scion after all. He’s got more important duties to attend to then making sure you feel prepared walking into an investigation. It’s an investigation; a little bit of mystery is necessary. Otherwise it wouldn’t be an investigation, it’d be a trial.”
“I don’t know. Something about this doesn’t smell right to me,” Sheridan said glaring at the letter as if it had been intended to personally offend her. “Even if he knew nothing regarding the circumstances of the crime, why wouldn’t he have told us the victim’s name? Instead all he gave us is a vague order to report to the magistrate without any mention of Kaedman or any other Daniyelans in the city. That doesn’t strike you as odd?”
“I’m not saying it’s sitting well with me,” Eve argued, “but try to see the good in this. We get to go to Montdell. It’s been ages since we were able to travel up north. You’ll get to see Kaedman and we haven’t seen Nessa or Uncle Rahn in so long.”
“It has been quite awhile and he does owe me a drink,” Sheridan admitted grudgingly. “Well, I guess we’ll have to find passage going up the Dalibor in the morning.”
“That’s the spirit,” Eve said with a bright smile as she hooked arms with her sister. “Oh, and by the way, the part that doesn’t smell right about this is you. You stink. You smell like Ossi after it rains.”
Eve pulled down on the hem of her wool jacket to readjust the structured garment. Smoothing it against her torso, she drew her orange-dyed leather pack over her head and let it settle across her body. The insignia of the Daniyelan Order, a flaming sword, was embossed on its flap. Pulling it open, she checked one the pockets sewn on the inside to see how many temple tokens she had left. Only three of the orange leather disks remained. They would have to requisition more before they left Wickcester.
Letting the flap fall closed, she rested her hand on the curved, long knife sitting on her hip and skipped down the temple’s steps. Though she and Sheridan had arrived just after midday, the shadows had lengthened as the afternoon wore on and Tomas’ orders had stressed the necessity for speed. After Eve had pointed out her sister’s pungent aroma, Sheridan had insisted on bathing and changing her uniform, which left her the responsibility of booking their passage to Montdell. While the ride from Cottonwood Bog, the last stop on their circuit, had tired Eve, she would gladly make the sacrifice of trekking down to the river docks if it meant that she could escape that smell.
The wheels of carts and the stepping of beasts of burden on the cobblestone streets of Wickcester created an odd, offbeat syncopation that caused Eve to slow down or speed up her gait in response. It took her three blocks to even notice that she was doing it. When she did notice, she pursed her lips irritated at herself and felt the familiar pang of grief before she started a quick march down the street away from the seaside wharf toward the riverside docks.
The peaks of the mountains rose like the spine of a great, moss covered, sleeping beast in front of her. Unlike Sheridan, Eve ha
d never liked the mountains. Though they had been born in the mountainous southern land of Indolbergan, they had left home to train in the temples when they were five. Ever since, Eve had hated the sight of mountains, even these forested mountains filled her with a cold knot of dissatisfaction.
Her mind preoccupied with the mountain pass they would have to travel through, Eve had fallen back into the odd dance-like gait created by the street’s rhythm. Turning at the next alley, Eve felt the rhythm recede in the height of the corridor. Her boots splashing in the runoff from nearby roofs, she found herself on the riverside commercial district.
Bolstering herself from the discordant racket of the docks and the assault on her sense of smell, she read the signs of the businesses lining the boardwalk until she found the one she was looking for: House Evensong Trading & Supply.
Pushing the door open, a high bell tinkled at her entrance. The storefront’s wide window let in plenty of the afternoon light and illuminated the tiled counter. A woman with mouse brown hair that silvered in streaks sat behind the counter meticulously filling out ledgers. At Eve’s entrance, the woman looked up revealing scars from a burn that went from her temple down to her left ear.
Like Eve, she wore trousers, but instead of the military style jacket, this woman wore a red vest laced tightly over a collarless striped shirt. Hanging loosely around her neck was a brown-and-red stripped kerchief. She set down her stylus and grinned.
“G’day, Sister. The name’s Gladys. You’ll need to speak into my good ear.” She tapped her right, unscarred ear. “Got caught in a fire during the war and hasn’t been the same since. Now, what brings you down to our fine docks today? Picking up cargo? Shipping it? Needing passage down to Finalaran or across the Sea to Kilrood?”
Eve smiled at the woman’s good natured and fast-talking greeting and got straight to the point. “Well met, Gladys. I’m Evelyn Reid. My partner and I require passage to Montdell on the next boat heading that way.”
“Up the Dalibor, eh?” Gladys said with a furrow of her weathered brow. Pulling her hand along her jaw, she got up and yanked another book off of a shelf and flipped it open. She leafed through its pages. Tapping her thumb on the counter, she skipped back and forth between two different pages nodding. “That’s going to be tricky, Sister Reid. We just had a ship head up that way last week, the River Rat. We don’t have anything else going that way for another three days. I’m sorry, I wish we could be of better service to the temples.”
Eve pursed her lips, but forced herself to smile brightly. “You’ve been of great service, Gladys. It’s just a shame you were unable to accommodate us. And I assume none of your competitors have any boats heading to Montdell?”
“None, Sister,” Gladys said shutting the book and sliding it back into its place on the shelf. “Very few captains are willing to make the run along that much of the border. The only reason our captains will go is because we can’t afford to be cut off from our rail yards in Montdell. If you’re able to wait a few days, we’d be more than happy to take you as far as you needed to go.”
Eve traced the stylized design of a songbird on one of the tiles with her fingertip. “I wish we could, but our orders are fairly urgent. We do have an alternative means of transport available to us, but my partner would be much happier if we didn’t have to utilize that option.”
“I know it’s none of my business,” Gladys said perching back on her stool as she leaned forward with an eager expression crinkling the skin around her eyes, “but what might it be? If speed’s what you’re needing, going overland won’t be any faster than waiting the three days for our next boat.”
Being of a curious nature herself, Eve loved to see it in others. She smiled widely. “No intrusion at all, Gladys. My partner also trained with the Amserians.”
Slapping her hand on the tile, Gladys made a noise of affirmation low in her throat. “Just as I figured, your partner’s a popper. Well, why’d you even come looking for passage in the first place?”
Eve stopped tracing the design and brought her hand back to her wide belt. “Well, to tell you the truth, Gladys, I’d rather lose the three or four days of travel time than listen to my partner complain endlessly about having to pop my mare, Kimiko. I’ll have to listen to her bellyaching about it for longer than the trip would last. For the sake of my peace and quiet, I’d rather take the boat. But orders are orders, so I’ll just have to endure it.”
Eve gave Gladys a martyred expression that made the older woman chuckle.
“I think we’ve all got someone like that in our lives, Sister Reid. But should you decide it’s too big a burden to bear, the offer still stands. We’ll save room for you, should you need it.”
Eve took Gladys’ outstretched hand and shook it firmly. “My thanks, Gladys. May the Light brighten your days.”
“Yours as well, Sister Reid. You stay safe,” Gladys commanded as she picked up her stylus and returned to balancing her ledger as Eve left the storefront.
Slapping her open palm against the side of her thigh, Eve turned back the way she had come. She hadn’t exaggerated about how much Sheridan disliked popping Kimiko, but they had no other choice. They couldn’t afford to wait three days for another boat to depart. The longer they waited the colder the evidence would become.
It didn’t take Eve long to reach the temple again and she headed straight for the personal quarters. They were much smaller than most of the local temples she was accustomed to, because Wickcester was just large enough to warrant a local installation of the Daniyelan Order. Entering the room where she had deposited their gear earlier, she saw Sheridan doubled over as she toweled her hair. When Sheridan heard Eve enter, she whipped her head up splattering Eve with water droplets.
Eve cried in dismay and wiped off the water with her sleeves. “Ugh, Sheridan, don’t do that!”
Sheridan combed her hair back with her fingers and made no attempt to disguise her amusement. “Sorry, Eve, didn’t see you there.”
“Lies,” Eve said pointing at her sister in accusation, “you aimed for me. I saw you.”
Sheridan shrugged her shoulders in mock ignorance. “Would I ever do that?”
“Would you like me to remind you of all the times when you have done exactly that?” Eve said with an arch of an eyebrow.
In response, Sheridan became very interested in rummaging through her gear, which she had spread out on her bed in meticulous rows. “Lies, slander, and vicious rumors,” she said in her own defense. “By the way, when are we leaving? Please tell me in the morning, because I’m more than a little annoyed that Tomas is cutting into our leave. We just finished riding circuit and this was supposed to be our last stop before we got to rest for a few days.”
Eve just folded her arms and leaned against the doorway. “We won’t be leaving by boat any time soon.”
“Really?” Sheridan said drawing out the word as she peeked under her arm at her sister.
“That’s right. The only Merchant House running boats up to Montdell is Evensong and their last boat left last week and they don’t have another charted for another three days.”
Making room on the mattress for herself, Sheridan flopped down in a huff. She stared up at the stonework arch over the doorway following the seams of the masonry with her eyes. “So, that means that I have to haul that beast of yours all the way to Montdell. Fantastic. Well, I demand that you bring me tea while I’m in bed recovering from moving that much mass at once and those delicious boysenberry scones from the baker at Montdell keep. That’s my price.”
“It’s not like we have a choice about it, Sheridan,” Eve said shaking her head at the predictability of her twin. “We have to get to Montdell as quickly as we can. This is the only way.”
“I’m not disagreeing,” Sheridan said as she grabbed her brush and waved it at her sister before she started brushing her hair over her shoulder. “I’m merely pointing out that I’m going to have a headache as big as that beast of yours when we get there, which means
I expect the proper accommodations to aid in my recuperation.”
“I would expect nothing less, sister dear,” Eve said with tolerant amusement. “But we don’t have to leave tonight, we can wait until morning.”
“Deal,” Sheridan agreed tossing her brush on the mattress. “But first, I want to enjoy being in a civilized town, while we can. First order of business is checking out the market, then find somewhere that has good seafood, because I’m starving.”
“You’re always hungry, so that hardly counts, dear,” Eve said reminding her sister of her stomach’s absolute rule over her. “But I do request somewhere that has more than just seafood please.”
“How can you hate seafood, when it’s so very tasty? I just can’t understand. I really can’t, Eve.” Sheridan shook her head with saddened pity at Eve as she stood and sighed at her uniform’s jacket. “What I really wish is that I had another coat with me. It’d be nice to not have to watch what I say while we’re in town.”
“At least in uniform, I know I won’t have to worry about fishing you out of the sea because you had too much wine.” Eve watched her sister pick through the items on the bed and shove her finds into her leather side satchel. “Besides, it’s not as if we’re heading into the wilderness never to see civilization again. Montdell’s twice the size of Wickcester, not to mention being the hub of the northern rail system.”
Sheridan shrugged into the jacket and began hooking its brass buttons. “Okay, so I just want to see if I can find some new gloves. Mine were ruined by that toddler in Culgarth when he vomited all over them.” Sheridan shuddered at the memory. “Children are just so dirty.”
“Oh, come now, Sheridan. They aren’t all that bad,” Eve said with an affectionate smile as she pictured the round little boy. “He was a cute child.”
“You say cute. I say plague-carrying, sticky-fingered dirt monsters,” Sheridan said slapping Eve on the shoulder as she passed her to leave the room.
Shatter (The Children of Man) Page 7
