“Control, Minox! I use that, and I’m the one in control of myself.”
“You can’t use any magic?”
“I don’t feel it. That infernal crackling in my belly, that sense that every hair on my neck is standing on end. It’s gone.” He opened the jar and sprinkled some into his cup of afedhlan. Then he held it out to Minox. “Do you want to try it?”
Minox’s hand reflexively went out. Control was a very tempting idea, especially after today’s incidents. “You’re certain it’s safe?”
Joshea responded by downing the contents of his cup.
Minox picked up the jar. “How much do I use?”
By ten bells, Rian hadn’t come out of her room. Not to eat, not even to use the water closet. Satrine admired her tenacity, at least. She also hadn’t let Caribet come in herself, and the poor girl fell asleep on the couch. If nothing else, Satrine was confident that Rian wouldn’t be getting any sympathy from her sister.
Missus Abernand had not returned, at least not through their apartment. Satrine went up the back stairs, but found the door latched. She couldn’t hear any obvious signs that Missus Abernand was up and about, and didn’t want to wake her if she wasn’t.
Satrine returned to her apartment. She knocked gently on Rian’s door one more time. No response. The girl was probably sleeping. She should do the same.
She went into her bedroom. Loren slept. She envied him. He was allowed to be unaware.
She cursed herself for having that thought. She knew damn well Loren wouldn’t want to be unaware of what was going on. He went out, every morning, and he did the job with a smile on his face. If anything, she envied his ability to do that. He may have brought the mystery, the excitement of his work back to the house, but never the burden. He carried that without complaint.
She kissed him on the forehead. If he could manage, so would she. If for nothing else, for Rian and Caribet. She had to work now, for all of them, but she had to bear up as well. No matter how the day went, it had to stay at the stationhouse. Her family deserved no less.
Satrine washed off her face and prepared for bed. Yesterday, she had decided she would get this job, and she had. Tomorrow, she would do it right. No matter what.
The house was mostly dark when Minox returned. That was as expected, given that it was almost midnight bells. A few lamps could be spotted from the street, including one in the parlor. Minox suspected that was left burning for him. He wasn’t going to need it, not yet. He had made a promise to Aunt Beliah, and he would keep it.
He made his way around the back of the house to the stable. They hadn’t kept any horses in the stable, not since Father died. On some level, Minox regretted that. Back in his own horsepatrol days, he would have relished keeping his own mount at home. But he knew that was more expense and burden than should be placed on the family. He was already enough of a burden, given how much of his salary he ate.
Though, surprisingly, he wasn’t feeling particularly hungry at this moment. Perhaps that was an effect of Joshea’s spice. Maybe that’s all it did. Minox didn’t know anything about Poasian spices—it was hardly relevant to his Constabulary duties. It may have been foolish to sample it so blindly.
Flickering light was visible through the cracks in the door. Minox knocked quietly.
“Not hungry,” came Evoy’s gravelly response.
“Not bringing food,” Minox replied.
The door opened up. Evoy looked wild, hair a greasy tumble, thick beard growth on his chin. The rancid scent of the man hit Minox full in the face.
“Minox! Good to see you! You sent papers from south neighborhoods today.”
“You got those all right?” Minox asked. He was glad to see the boy had proven trustworthy.
“Yes, yes. Very good. I haven’t gone through everything yet, but . . . I’ve found a few things of note.”
“Excellent. May I come in?”
“Of course, of course.” Evoy jumped back, allowing Minox entry. He wasn’t wearing shoes, and his trousers were becoming worn and tattered. Beliah had been worried, and with good reason. He hadn’t thought Evoy was getting this bad.
“Look, look,” Evoy said, pointing at the walls.
Three of the four walls in the barn were all covered in newsprints, notes, lines of twine and slateboards. Minox knew he was roundly mocked and derided for the notes he kept on his boards on the inspectors’ floor. If his fellow inspectors saw this room, knew not only that it was here, but that he was a participant in its creating, they would think him mad.
They might be right.
Minox hadn’t been in the barn for several days, and Evoy had clearly been busy, building off Minox’s own notes and ideas. Minox scanned over one slateboard, names and questions popping out. Fenmere. Thorn. Blue Hand. Where is Pendall Gurond?
“They didn’t listen to you on that one, did they?” Evoy asked. “Two dead horsemen, one dead assassin, case closed! Typical, typical.”
“Indeed,” Minox said. “Though now that I think about it—”
Evoy shook his head. “I know what you’re going to say, and I don’t see it.” He pointed over to another part of the wall. “Two dead from Firewings. One dead from Light and Stone. Something is missing. Pieces aren’t snapping together. But three dead Blue Hands on a garbage scow isn’t part of it.”
Minox nodded. “Because the methods don’t match.”
“One’s a typical body dump. Yours mean something. I just can’t see where.”
“Where?”
Evoy jumped up, running to another part of the wall, where a large street map of all of Maradaine was the prominent feature. “The alley, the Light and Stone house, the church. The where means so much more to the killer than the who.”
“How so?” Minox asked.
“And then there’s the matter of the girls in Laramie, Gelmoor, Keller Cove, and Aventil. I never would have seen it without those papers you sent, but now it’s so clear. The pattern. You need three to start a pattern, but even that can be a coincidence. But now it’s five! And no one else has seen it. And why would they? You have to be looking at every piece of the pie.”
“There are girls . . . dead?”
“Missing, but most likely dead.”
“And this ties to my case how, exactly?”
“Not at all, aren’t you paying attention?” Evoy ran over to the first wall. “Of course, that might be a premature pronouncement. I can’t see every piece. Where’s the north side, Minox? Any newssheets from there? Because I’m sure it ties to the Parliament. Two members, I think. Or the Royal College. And a duchess. There would have to be a duchess involved. Wouldn’t there? It only makes sense.”
“Evoy—”
Evoy grabbed a piece of chalk and scrawled rapidly. “I mean it’s almost comical, isn’t it? The obviousness of it all. A duchess. And another noblewoman, I’m sure, so they can have The Lady. All the Grand Ten, you know? That’s what they would do.”
“You’ve lost me, Evoy,” Minox said. That usually brought him back down, even when it wasn’t entirely true. Sometimes Minox was terrified by how much of what Evoy said made perfect sense to him.
“I’m very far ahead of you right now, Minox,” Evoy said. He went over to his small table and took the ball of twine. “The tapestry is far larger than three dead mages.”
Minox knew not to fight Evoy on this, not directly at least.
“You should be writing this, you know,” he said. “Get it in print. Get back to work.”
“Ha!” Evoy said. “Like the South Maradaine Gazette could handle all this. As if they had enough paper to print it all!” Suddenly he dropped down, sitting on the floor, and his voice turned calm. “Have you seen Rencir lately?”
“He stopped by the station yesterday,” Minox said.
“Did he ask after me?”
“Not this time.”
As much as he was tempted to, there was no point in lying to Evoy.
“You’re right, of course,” Evoy said. “I should write it all out. And send Rencir just a dollop of it. Just a little bit of the truth. Enough to let him know there is a bigger picture.”
“That’d be good, Evoy.” Minox knelt down by him. “Your mother would like that.”
“Would she?” His tone darkened. “She’d probably like it if I came into the house as well.”
“She would,” Minox said. “I did promise her I’d speak to you on the subject. And now I have.”
“Fine, fine,” Evoy said. “You’ve fulfilled your promise. It’s no good for me in there. Not enough space in the house. Too many voices, clamoring about minutiae. Can’t hear myself think in there. Saints, you had that big dinner with your friend from the army. Clammer clatter bang bang.” He jumped back up to his feet and started writing on a slateboard again.
“Joshea Brondar,” Minox said.
“Brondar. Name from Eastern Druthal. Monim, I think. Was he a pikeman?”
“Not sure,” Minox said.
“But army family. Probably an ancestor went to Khol Taia.”
“It’s entirely possible,” Minox said.
Evoy pounced on a pile of papers, tearing through them. “Khol Taia is always important. I don’t suppose you could get me a roster of every single Druth soldier who was stationed there.”
“No,” Minox said. “I’ve told you this before.”
“And when the whole city comes crashing down on our heads, dear cousin, don’t come crying to me!”
Minox had had quite enough, and he had fulfilled his promise to his aunt. No need to submit himself to any more abuse today. “I would never do that, Evoy. However, I think I should retire.”
“True. You’ve got a big day tomorrow. Rest while you can. If you can, with all that noise. So much noise.”
Minox slipped out of the barn and found his way through the dark to the kitchen door. He briefly considered helping himself to something from the larder before going to bed, but the encounter with Evoy had left him too troubled to eat. Evoy was worse than Fenner had ever been.
Despite that, Minox completely understood what he was doing, and even had the urge to join him.
He touched his face. Stubble had grown. He resolved to shave that off and get to sleep as quickly as possible.
Chapter 23
SATRINE WOKE SHORTLY BEFORE DAWN. Loren had soiled himself in the night, so she washed him and changed him. She washed herself and dressed. She put on her inspector’s vest, and for that moment, her husband’s gaze was fixed on her. And then it slipped away again. Satrine had the hard thought that every morning in the foreseeable future would follow this pattern, and this was the most she could hope for out of him.
Missus Abernand was in the kitchen when Satrine came out of the room, as was Caribet.
“Morning, Satrine,” Missus Abernand said, putting a cup of tea on the table.
“Is Rian awake?” Satrine asked, sitting next to Caribet.
“Already left,” Caribet said. “Are you ready to go to work?”
“I suppose I need to be,” Satrine said.
“Here you go.” Missus Abernand put a bowl of creamed oats in front of her. “Need your strength out there.”
“Thank you, Missus Abernand,” Satrine said. The old woman shrugged and went back over to the stove. Satrine got up and touched her shoulder. “Missus Abernand? Really, thank you for everything you do.”
Missus Abernand glanced at her for a moment, then turned her attention back to the pots on the stove. “Someone needs to help you out.”
“Did you see Rian this morning? How did she look?”
“Looked like a girl going to school.” Missus Abernand pointed at Caribet. “Like that, with red hair and taller.”
“She’s still plenty mad, Mama,” Caribet offered. Satrine sat with her and started eating. “But she told me what she did and everything, and it wasn’t right, and I told her that.”
Missus Abernand snorted. “That’s good, Cari. You stay smart, and stay away from the college boys when you’re her age.”
Caribet crinkled her nose. “Did you really catch her kissing him?”
Satrine nodded. “I really did.” She touched her youngest’s face, sweet and soft. “You are such a blessing, you know that? Straight from the saints, you and your sister.”
Caribet laughed nervously and got up from the table. “I have to get to school, too.”
“You see your sister, Cari, tell her I said that. All right?”
“I’ll tell her you’re not mad, how about that?”
“Fair enough.” She took another sip of tea. “I should start walking as well.”
“You’ll be back at six bells?” Missus Abernand said.
Satrine shrugged. “If I live through today.”
“Shouldn’t make jokes like that, Satrine. Saints don’t like it.”
“Six bells, Missus Abernand,” Satrine said as soberly as she could. “That is my intention.”
The morning was warm, the sky was bright and clear. Satrine’s knee still ached as she walked down to the bridge, but besides that, it was a pleasant stroll to Inemar. The day ahead would probably be filled with more dead bodies, murderers, and painful memories, but she pushed those thoughts into the back of her mind. She would bear it.
She had to bear it. There was no other option.
“Minox, are you sick?” Jace’s whispered voice pulled Minox out of slumber. Sick? Why would Jace even ask such a thing?
“Of course not,” Minox muttered. Opening his eyes, he focused on his young brother. “Why are you in here?”
Jace shrugged. “It’s almost seven bells. You’re always awake at six bells.”
Minox sat up quickly. “Almost seven? That can’t be right.” It was unusual for him to sleep so late.
“That’s the time. Mother thought you had spent the whole night out again, and had me check.”
“Of course,” Minox said, brushing Jace away. “I’m well. Let me dress in peace, and I’ll be down shortly.”
Jace left, and Minox began to get ready. Almost seven bells? The last two days had had more of a toll on him than he had suspected. But he felt well rested, even refreshed. So perhaps oversleeping had been for the best.
Washed, shaved, and dressed, Minox went down to the dining table, where most of the family were already having breakfast.
“Getting worried about you,” Ferah said as he took his seat. “Nyla already headed out.”
“Nothing to worry about,” Minox said. “I needed to recover is all.”
“You don’t take care of yourself,” Aunt Beliah said, bringing a plate loaded with eggs and sausage to him. She touched his head. “Running a little warm. You shouldn’t work today.”
“Nonsense,” Timmothen said. “Wellings don’t shirk their duty. Pop would go on the job—”
“Even if he was on fire,” Timmothen’s sons said in unison.
“Blazing right he would,” Timmothen said.
“I’m fine,” Minox said. “I have no intention of shirking.”
“Better not,” Corrie said. Minox hadn’t even noticed she was at the table. He usually had left before she came in. “You need to clean up that Circle business you started.”
“Circle business?” Oren asked. “What’s this about?”
“Series of murders,” Minox said. “Corrie’s shift took a patrol duty to prevent things from escalating.”
“Rutting mages killing other mages,” Corrie snapped.
“Corrianna Welling!” Mother called out from the kitchen. “I don’t want to hear that from your mouth again!”
“Sorry!” Corrie called back. Scowling, she took a bite of her breakfast. “They probably will start another Circle Feud.”
“So it was an unpleasant night?” Minox asked. “Did either side start trouble?”
“I spent the night outside the Stonelight house, or whatever they’re called. Crazy skirts came out four times looking to scrap someone. I almost wish one of them had made a dash so I could run her down.”
Minox leaned over closer to her. “Anything else?”
Corrie’s eye twitched, and then, looking down at her plate, she whispered, “Kelsey and Prandt. You didn’t hear it from me.”
“Of course,” Minox said. Ringing from Saint Benton’s pealed off in the distance. It was seven bells and thirty. He would barely have time to make it to the station by eight bells, and that was only if the tickwagons weren’t held up at all. “I appreciate it.” He got to his feet and made for the front door.
“Minox!” Aunt Beliah said. “You barely ate!”
Minox glanced back at the table. His plate was still full. He hadn’t walked away from a full plate of food in three years. “I’m running late, it can’t be helped.” He made for the door and grabbed his coat and vest. Beliah raced over to join him.
“Did you check on Evoy?”
“I did,” Minox said as he put on his coat. “Though he’s unlikely to come back into the house any time soon.”
Beliah gasped, her hand instinctively covering her mouth. “How bad is he?”
“I’m not qualified to—”
“Is he worse than my father was?”
Minox had no urge to lie to his aunt. “In some ways, I believe so. But I do not believe he will take the violent turn that Grandfather did.”
Tears welled at her eyes. “Thank you. He . . . he won’t even let me in.”
Minox glanced out the door. He needed to leave. “We’ll discuss this more later.”
She grabbed his arm. “He listens to you.”
“Beliah!” Minox said. She was right, of course. Evoy listened to Minox because they were more alike than not. “I must go. I will increase my vigilance with Evoy.”
“Thank you,” Beliah said, releasing him. Minox nodded and left the house before she could stall him any further.
A Murder of Mages: A Novel of the Maradaine Constabulary Page 27
