False Dawn: Ageless Mysteries - Book 2

by Vanessa Nelson

  There was always the cupboard next to the kettle. It would keep her occupied, at least. Even so, she decided she was not that desperate. Not yet. There were old case reports she could read, to get more information about the district. And if she tired of that, she was quite sure that the crossbows had not been cleaned for a while. Either of those tasks was preferable to investigating whatever it was inside the cupboard.

  Although the Sergeant was not at the station, there was a Watchman on duty at the desk. One of the night shift that Thea had not worked with very often. He had settled in at the front desk, and set a fat roll of what looked like old leather on the desk in front of him. With nothing to distract her, Thea watched in equal fascination and horror as he unrolled the hide to reveal a gentleman’s grooming kit, complete with a razor and clippers for his nails. The fascination and horror were replaced with disgust as he proceeded to clip his fingernails, the small sounds loud in the quiet building, grating against Thea’s sensitive hearing. With his fingernails done, he bent down to remove his boots. Thea decided that, no matter what the Sergeant had said, she could bear it no longer.

  She left the station, heading for the Cross Keys Tavern. There would usually be a few friendly faces there, and she could also gather information that was not freely available at the station. There was almost no risk of seeing anyone from the station. For some reason, the other members of the Watch at her station usually drank elsewhere.

  The Cross Keys Tavern was easy to find in the night. The oddly shaped, triangular space that marked the centre of Brightfield was otherwise dark, the tavern at the short end of the triangle showing lights in the windows, and a faint hum of noise reaching Thea’s ears.

  She paused before she went inside, turning to look back at the space. Not that long ago, the other two sides had held a large dressmaker’s shop and a curio shop stuffed full of oddities. But the dressmaker had been killed and the curio shop had been burned when Thea and Mage Niath had fought the escalus. The dressmaker’s shop was intact, just shut down for the night. The curio shop was a burned-out shell, although the building around it was still solid.

  It would not be long before someone took over the shop, Thea hoped. Every time she walked past it she was reminded of waking up in Ambrose Twist’s basement, with the escalus trying to tie her up so he could kill her like the dressmaker, and the other Ageless-born women they had found.

  He was dead, she reminded herself. She had seen the bits of him that remained after Mage Niath’s magic had torn him apart.

  The wind shifted in the square, carrying the faintest trace of burning to her nose. No human would smell it, she knew.

  She shook her head, trying to shake off the memories, and turned to go into the tavern.

  It was a mid-week night, and the tavern was busy but not full, the babble of voices drawing Thea in as soon as she opened the door, along with the welcome scent of the tavern’s cooking, and the less welcome smell of stale beer and sweat. Still, it was better than being at the station trying to avoid looking at whatever grooming ritual the Watchman at the desk was performing.

  “Thea!” A voice she knew, and a welcome one, accompanied by a waving hand, sleek dark hair gleaming in the light.

  Thea raised a hand in response and made her way through the crowd of people to the table that the Watch’s Mage, Odilia Trant, had managed to find. No matter how busy the tavern was, Odilia always seemed to find a table. It might be because mages were rare, but it was more likely Odilia’s bright personality.

  As usual, Odilia was not drinking alone.

  “Made your escape, have you?” Dina Soter asked, grinning up at Thea. The Watch’s chief scientist had a small glass in front of her, full of amber liquid. Her fair skin was freckled, cheeks tinged with colour. Perhaps from the drink, but more likely from the warmth of the room. Dina was Ageless-born. Like Thea. Despite the tousled red hair and rumpled clothes, Thea knew that Dina would be almost completely sober. It was one of the downsides to being Ageless-born. Alcohol had little effect.

  “I’m still on duty,” Thea said, pointing to the badge at her lapel then settling at the table. “But I needed a break, and I thought I might find a friendly face here,” she admitted, exchanging nods with Odilia. The mage’s black hair was straight and gleaming, warm brown skin complemented by her dark robes. She was human through and through, petite and beautifully groomed, in sharp contrast to Dina.

  “It’s Watchman Harris on duty, isn’t it?” Dina said, sitting back in her chair, lifting her glass to her lips. She paused and grinned again. “Did he have his grooming kit with him?”

  “Let’s not talk about that,” Thea said, shuddering, and turning to the barmaid who had appeared at her shoulder.

  Thea ordered stew and small beer, and turned back to find Dina openly laughing, and Odilia frowning between the two of them.

  “You don’t want to know, trust me,” Thea told Odilia.

  “Not if you ever want to eat again, no,” Dina agreed. She poured herself another drink from the dark glass bottle at her elbow. “Want some?” she asked Thea.

  “Not just now, thank you. On duty,” Thea repeated. She was still wearing her badge. Members of the Watch wore their uniforms to and from their duty shifts, as none of the stations had changing facilities. They only wore their badges on duty, though. It was a rule that Thea had never seen broken among the Watch, and an easily recognised and understood symbol across the city.

  “Quiet night?” Odilia asked, mouth curving up in unexpected mischief.

  “A little. Why? What have you heard?” Thea asked.

  “Nothing as exciting as burning up a shop,” Odilia said, eyes bright with curiosity. “I keep hearing the strangest stories about that.”

  Thea shook her head, leaning back a little to let the barmaid put a bowl of stew and a pot of beer in front of her. She had been hungry when she sat down, but her appetite had faded, remembering the night Odilia was referring to.

  “Oh, do tell,” Dina said, leaning forward. “The last story I heard had pixies in it.”

  “Pixies?” Thea asked, nose wrinkling in disgust. “Who is making these stories up?”

  Dina’s grin gave her one possible answer. Thea strongly suspected that between them, the Watch Captain, chief scientist and chief physician had decided that the less people knew about what had happened at Ambrose Twist’s shop the better. It would suit Dina perfectly to stir up gossip and idle chatter with far-fetched tales.

  And fanciful stories about pixies were certainly preferable to the truth. The truth that the mild-mannered, talkative curio shop owner had in fact been an ancient and deadly escalus. One of the rarest and most powerful of the night kind.

  Thea had escaped from him thanks to her non-human nature and the training her mother had instilled into her from childhood. And thanks to the arrival of a Citadel Mage who she had not seen since that night.

  “So, no pixies, then,” Odilia said, sounding disappointed. “But there’s Niath.”

  “He isn’t a pixie,” Dina pointed out, still grinning.

  “No, but he’s here,” Odilia said, waving a hand to someone behind Thea.

  Thea turned, wondering if Odilia was mistaken. But no. There was another mage in the tavern, standing taller than almost everyone around him, robes brushing the legs of other people as he made his way through the crowd to their table.

  “Mage Niath. Do join us,” Odilia said, patting the chair next to her.

  Thea heard a curious sound from Dina. A snort, that the scientist hastily turned into a cough as Niath pulled back the chair Odilia had indicated and settled into it. It put him between Odilia and Thea.

  “Examiner Soter. Officer March. Mage Trant,” Niath said, inclining his head to each of them in turn. He was a little taller than Thea, the dark robes making him seem even taller, with bronze-tinted skin, short black hair swept back from his forehead, his blue eyes bright with interest as he looked around him. Thea had never met anyone with as much curiosity about the world
as Niath displayed. It was almost impossible to tell a mage’s age, but Thea had the sense that Niath was not much older than she was. Possibly somewhere in his early thirties. There were times, like now, he seemed far younger.

  “Oh, please, call me Odilia,” the mage said, smiling happily at Niath as he took the seat she had indicted.

  Thea’s brows lifted, and she wondered just how long Odilia had been in the tavern and just how much of Dina’s bottle the human mage had consumed.

  “We don’t often see you Citadel folk around here,” Dina said. There was no challenge in her voice. It was a simple observation of fact.

  “I am sure that is the case,” Niath agreed. “I was told that the food was passable here,” he said, turning his head slightly as the barmaid approached. “What would you recommend?” he asked Thea.

  “The stew is always good,” Thea answered.

  “Excellent. Stew and small beer, please,” Niath said to the barmaid.

  “Yes, sir. I mean, Mage. Right away,” the barmaid said, colour high in her face, and scuttled away, bumping into a nearby patron as she went.

  Thea lifted her brows after the barmaid. She had never seen the woman so clumsy before.

  “Did you just come here for the stew?” Dina asked, eyes bright with mischief.

  “I was looking for Officer March,” Niath said, apparently not realising he was being teased. “The stew is an added bonus,” he added, a slight smile pulling at his mouth.

  Dina laughed.

  “You were looking for me?” Thea asked, taking a mouthful of her own stew, cooling in front of her.

  “Indeed. I went to the station first. There was a Watchman there doing something very strange to his feet,” Niath said, sitting back in his chair to let the barmaid set his stew and beer in front of him.

  Thea choked on her food, and had to turn away, eyes watering as she tried to swallow and laugh at the same time.

  Dina had no such problems, a great, deep laugh washing over the table.

  “Watchman Harris. I swear he’s part troll,” she said.

  “Judging by his feet, it’s possible,” Niath agreed.

  That set Dina off again, Odilia joining in. Thea took a swallow of her beer to clear her throat and chuckled as well.

  “This is good,” Niath said a moment later, having taken a mouthful of stew. “A little bland, but well cooked.”

  Thea remembered the mage giving her some of the oat cake he carried, that he said he had made himself. It had been delicious. She did not know that many mages, but she had never met any who had any interest in cooking, and she was tempted to ask more.

  Before she could speak, Odilia leant towards the mage.

  “So, anything interesting happening at the Citadel?”

  “Many things, I am sure,” Niath said, brows drawing together. “But I am not sure what would interest you.”

  “Tell me anything,” Odilia suggested, leaning closer.

  “Oh, dear,” Dina said, putting her hand on Odilia’s arm and drawing the mage away from Niath. “I’m cutting you off, young lady,” she added, taking the glass out of Odilia’s hand. There was a trace of liquid at the bottom.

  “How much has she had?” Thea asked.

  “Too much,” Dina said, shaking her head as Odilia swayed the other way and ended up with her head on the examiner’s shoulder. “I forgot she’s a lightweight.”

  Not only petite, but also human. And Odilia had been drinking with an Ageless-born. No wonder the mage was intoxicated.

  “I can see her home,” Thea offered.

  “No, I’ll do that. Seems like you two have things to talk about,” Dina said, lifting the dark bottle and pouring. A small trickle ended up in her glass. “I’ve been here long enough, too.” She swallowed the last of the amber liquid and rose to her feet, gathering Odilia up. “Try not to burn down any more buildings,” Dina said with a grin, and left, the half-conscious mage draped against her side.

  ~

  “Will she be alright?” Niath asked, seemingly genuinely concerned.

  “Which one?” Thea asked, unable to hold in a smile as she watched Dina navigate through the door. Odilia seemed to have half-woken and realised that she was being led away from Niath. The human mage seemed to want to come back into the tavern, but was ultimately no match for Dina, who led her into the night.

  “A fair question,” Niath said. “Examiner Soter, I suppose. I’m sure that Mage Trant will be perfectly fine with some sleep.”

  “Dina will manage,” Thea said, pushing her empty bowl a little away from her and taking a sip of the beer. She wrinkled her nose. Beer was never her favourite drink, particularly not when it was stale. “You were looking for me?” she asked Niath.

  They were sitting at one end of the table, at right angles to each other, backs to the room, giving them the illusion of privacy.

  Niath did not answer at once. He looked up, blue eyes meeting hers, face cast into shadow, the slight bronze tone to his skin deeper in the candlelight. For a moment, Thea could see the faintest trace of his other aspect overlaid. The night kind side. Hiandar. It was the merest suggestion and if she had not been so close to him, she would have missed it.

  To almost anyone else, he would look human. He had mastered the art of hiding his other aspect, his other nature, long before she had met him.

  But Thea had been able to tell that he was not human. Long before she saw his other face. She had not been able to tell precisely what he was, though.

  Hiandar were rare and powerful otherworldly creatures. And this one had more magical power in him than she had ever come across before. It made him dangerous.

  And yet, she did not feel threatened, settled next to him in their small pool of quiet. Instead, her heart was lighter, as if she was in the presence of an old and valued friend she had not seen for a while.

  “I have been given a difficult problem to solve, and I would like your help,” he said, breaking the silence between them.

  The direct request lifted her brows and made her want to smile again.

  “That sounds interesting,” she said. The absolute truth. Anything would be preferable to Watchman Harris’ grooming routine. “I’m not sure that my Sergeant would assign me to work with you, though,” she said. It was almost certain. The Sergeant would want the case for one of his preferred officers. If he wanted it at all.

  Niath shifted in his chair. She narrowed her eyes. He rarely made any unnecessary move. In fact, he was often almost unnaturally still. Something had made him uncomfortable.

  “This isn’t Watch business, is it?” she asked.

  “No,” Niath said. She could not be sure, but she thought his colour had deepened.

  “Will you tell me more?” she asked, intrigued. She would need to be out of the Watch Station over the next day or so, making enquiries with Delilah Soames. She wondered how many other things she could get done until she had solved that matter. And what problem a Citadel Mage might have that he needed her help to solve.

  “Not here,” he said, then something past her shoulder caught his attention. “I wasn’t aware they allowed children into taverns,” he observed.

  Thea turned and found one of the Watch messengers coming towards them. Not quite a child, but much younger than the patrons around them.

  “He’s working,” she told Niath, and raised a hand to acknowledge the messenger. “Are you looking for me?” she asked, when the messenger was close enough.

  “Watchman Harris says you’re to go to the blue house on Cable Street,” the messenger said. “And be quick about it.”

  “Ma’am,” Thea said, voice flat.

  “What?”

  “Be quick about it, ma’am,” she answered. “Or do you speak to Watchman Harris like that, too?”

  “No, ma’am,” he said, in a tone that was anything but polite. He held out a hand.

  “No courtesy, no coin,” Thea told him, rising to his feet.

  “You just made that up,” the boy said.r />
  “Maybe. But I’m holding to it. Now, be off.”

  The messenger glared at her, and muttered something that he probably thought she couldn’t hear, then stomped away through the crowd and out of the tavern.

  “I’m needed elsewhere,” Thea said, turning to Niath to find him standing beside her. The barmaid was clearing the table behind him, expertly sweeping the pile of coins Niath had left into her apron. “That’s a generous tip,” she commented.

  “It was good stew, and good service,” Niath answered, then tilted his chin towards the messenger boy. “Did he just call you a night crawler?” A slang term for the night kind that most polite people steered away from.

  “Amongst other things, yes,” Thea said. She thanked the barmaid and made her way through the crowd into the night.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The cool night air hid the flush on her cheeks. Bad enough to be insulted by the messenger. Worse that Niath had heard it.

  “You didn’t seem surprised by the messenger’s insults,” Niath commented, falling into step beside her.

  “No. I’ve heard them before.” She pressed her lips together against more words. It would not help. The messengers and the Watchmen in the district took their cue from the Sergeant. The Sergeant looked after them, and despised her.

  Niath had nothing to say to that, walking in silence for several paces.

  “Where are you headed?” she asked him, when he showed no signs of leaving.

  “I’m going with you,” he answered.

  “Oh. Well, it’s likely to be quite dull,” Thea said, taking the next turn. Cable Street stretched out ahead of her. A short, oddly curved street that sat behind the dressmaker’s shop, it had a few large tradesmen’s houses crowded together, ground floor shop fronts opening directly onto the street, the upper storeys overhanging the ground floor.

  The blue house was halfway along, and there was a Watchman standing outside.

  “Watch Officer Thea March,” she said. “What’s the issue?”