Wild Card

by Lisa Shearin

  Until a decade ago, those healers who’d placed those children into stasis would have been prosecuted as practicing black magic. The overturned Conclave law had said that to interfere with the natural progression of death once the soul had left the body was punishable by death.

  If you prevented a death, you’d be put to death.

  Oh yeah, that made all kinds of sense.

  As to having a familiar, magic users of any stripe could have one. But a guy seen at three of eight houses where children’s souls had been stolen with a pint-sized accomplice stinking of sulfur?

  If something looked like black magic and smelled like black magic, sometimes that’s exactly what it was.

  “Okay, how do you know it’s a man?” I hated to speak ill of my own sex, but it’d been my unfortunate experience that women were capable of more evil than men, especially when it came to children.

  “Height, shoulders, and movement.”

  Made sense. “Skin color?”

  “Too dark to see. Robe sleeves covered the hands, and the witnesses couldn’t tell if he was wearing gloves.”

  There was a knock at the door.

  A young watcher stuck his head in. “Nachtmagus Adler is here, sir.”

  “Thank you, Tom. Send her in.”

  I stood.

  “Could you stay for this, Raine? I’d like you to meet Malina.”

  I nodded once, tightly.

  I really didn’t want to be in the same room with a nachtmagus right now, even the legitimate kind. They still dealt with dead people for a living. I’d heard that most undertakers had a wonderful sense of humor, but I didn’t want to be around them, either. I knew I was going to die one of these days, probably in a messy and violent way. I’d deal with it then; I didn’t want to look its handmaid in the eye now.

  I tried to settle my face into a neutral—though open and welcome—expression. It probably looked more like a panicked grimace.

  Janek made the introductions.

  Nachtmagus Malina Adler took one look at me and raised an eyebrow. “Mistress Benares, I assure you I left my scythe outside.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “I hope you don’t play cards,” Janek said.

  “Mainly, I leave that to my cousin.”

  “Good. But if you ever decide to chip up, let me know. I’m always looking for a new mark to fleece.”

  “Funny.”

  “At least I’m trying.”

  I had to admit Malina Adler didn’t look like the Grim Reaper. I didn’t know of anyone who considered robin’s-egg blue the color of impending death.

  That was the color of her eyes and her outer robe. Her hair was silver and was pulled up into a sensible bun that probably had nothing to do with avoiding the grabby hands of a newly raised zombie. And she didn’t smell like sulfur either, more like freshly baked sweet rolls.

  Without consulting me, my nose took a confused sniff. I generally didn’t go around smelling people.

  Malina Adler noticed and grinned as she opened the carryall strapped over her shoulder.

  “I told Maira that you’re working a particularly bad case and she sent these over,” the nachtmagus said to Janek.

  Once that bag was open, my nose knew that aroma sent from heaven anywhere. I’d just eaten two of them.

  Maira Takis’s sugar knots.

  Malina Adler held up her hand. “And before you tell me that you can’t accept these because your men have been working just as hard, I left two bags in the squad room for them.”

  That was all the encouragement Janek needed.

  “And Mistress Benares, please help yourself. Janek tells me you will be helping us catch this soul stealer. And my sister would be disappointed if you didn’t have at least one. She thinks very highly of you.”

  I didn’t know where to start from that list of surprises, but my indignation decided for me. I gave Janek a look that expressed my feelings before I’d said one word. “Apparently, Janek hasn’t gotten around to asking me yet.” It wouldn’t be the first time.

  The chief watcher grinned sheepishly from around the sugar knot he’d just all but stuffed in his mouth. “I would’ve.”

  “I’m sure. I’m working a case right now,” I told the nachtmagus, “but the souls of stolen children trump a stolen ring. I’m sure my client would agree.”

  That brought up a thought. Malina Alder was a nachtmagus, and so was Lord Mortsani, though I hated to even remotely compare the two.

  “Nachtmagus Adler, do you—”

  “Malina, please.”

  I smiled. “Malina.” I stopped, remembering what else she’d said. “You’re Maira’s sister?”

  “I am. She married. I never did.” Malina grinned. “Working mostly nights never left much room for a social life.” Her expression turned solemn. “My profession is my life, though many of us consider it more of a sacred calling. We help lost souls find their way—and ease the suffering of those they leave behind.”

  “Then you probably wouldn’t know the nachtmagus I’m investigating, though I’m certain you’ve heard of him. Sethis Mortsani?”

  “A vile stain upon our noble profession.”

  I nodded. “Vile stain. Sounds like him. You’ve met, I take it?”

  “It’s been my distinct displeasure to cross his path on more than one occasion. Sethis Mortsani should be investigated, tried, and convicted on many atrocities. Which one has attracted your attention?”

  “Unfortunately it’s nothing that’ll put him away, though my client’s extracurricular activities may have paid off in that direction. He’s stolen a ring of great sentimental value and my client wants it back.”

  Malina laughed. “Bilking the dead must not pay as much as it used to.”

  “You know?”

  “My dear, everyone knows. The problem is in the proving. Though it is only a matter of time until he makes a mistake, either by calling up the wrong spirit or swindling the wrong family out of their inheritance. Problems like Sethis Mortsani usually manage to solve themselves. Others will merely have to scrape up the mess left behind when he does.”

  Okay, that she worked with dead people still creeped me out, but I liked Malina Adler.

  I gave her the basics of my case and Sethis Mortsani’s gambling problem.

  “He’s been stealing his wife’s jewelry, presumably selling the stones and replacing them with fakes,” I concluded. “If he’s got creditors following him home, what I don’t understand is why wouldn’t he sell the big gems and pay them off? His wife just wants him stopped before he loses her grandmother’s ring. I followed him to Sirens last night. He had plenty of money to play with, and had the ring on him, but none of the fences in town who handle hot jewelry have seen the big gems.”

  Janek gave me a look I knew only too well.

  “Hey, if you have a case involving hot rocks, let me know,” I told him. “Otherwise, yes, I associate with ‘criminal elements.’ Nearly everybody in my family is a criminal element. It’s why I’m good at my job—I know people, people who trust me not to rat them out.” I gave him a smile. “Besides, if it wasn’t for criminals like them, you wouldn’t have a job.”

  “I’d gladly find another way to make a living.”

  “Compared to the hooded devil you have stealing the souls from children in their beds, these guys are choirboys.”

  “True.”

  “And small fry like them give us information that makes it easier to catch the big fish who actually hurt people.”

  Janek’s silence told me he agreed, but he wasn’t going to validate my statement by responding.

  We agreed to disagree. Friends could do that.

  “Have there been ransom demands?” I asked.

  Janek shook his head. “And there won’t be. The bastard’s not after money. He got what he wanted when he took those children. Most of the parents aren’t wealthy, but all of the kids are talents.”

  With that, the situation took a turn for the truly twisted. A dar
k mage gathering the souls of magically talented children with the aid of a demon familiar likely meant the bastard was gathering them as offerings to do something truly unspeakable.

  Even though I didn’t believe stealing and imprisoning souls was in Sethis Mortsani’s skill set, didn’t mean he wasn’t involved in some way.

  I told Janek and Malina about the crying child.

  “He felt me either sensing the ring, hearing the boy, or both,” I finished. “He got up, took his chips, cloaked himself, and got the hell out of there.”

  “That was an overreaction if he was only guilty of having a stolen ring,” Janek said. “I’m with you, Raine. I’ve never heard anything like that before. Malina?”

  The nachtmagus shook her head. “Sethis Mortsani can summon souls, and has the strength to hold them on this plane long enough to hold a conversation, but he should not be capable of holding one soul captive, let alone eight—in my professional opinion. That being said, I do not claim to know all of the mysteries regarding souls, but I do agree that the blackest of magic would had to have been involved.”

  “Lady Kaharit’s been keeping a sharp eye on her husband lately,” I told Janek.

  The chief watcher nodded in understanding. “I’ll send someone over to see if he alibis out—or not.”

  The sugar knots I’d eaten suddenly felt like balls of lead in my stomach.

  Last night, I’d met the man who would know all about the blackest of magic.

  *

  Tamnais Nathrach had the strength and probably the ability to hold eight souls hostage, but I didn't think he was involved.

  He'd done what a man who just wanted to start life over would do: move to another kingdom and establish himself as a respected businessman with a successful business. From what I'd heard, Tamnais Nathrach had been keeping his nose clean. There'd been no reports of illegal activity in, around, or in any way connected to Sirens or its proprietor.

  Janek had agreed with my assessment. He'd agreed because we'd discussed it. And we'd discussed it because I was on my way back to Sirens to talk with Tamnais Nathrach. I'd learned through experience to let at least one person know if I was meeting someone dangerous, where, and for how long. I told all of that to Janek and Malina.

  While I knew Tamnais Nathrach was plenty dangerous, I didn't believe he was dangerous to me—at least not the kind of dangerous that'd get me killed. At this time of day, Nathrach was probably asleep. Every other casino and nightclub in the city received shipments during the day, and I didn't see why Sirens would be any different. Since Lorcan Karst was an elf—and was awake during the day—he’d be the one I'd ask to see. As Sirens' manager, he'd be the gatekeeper to getting me in to see his boss. Whether he'd be willing to wake his boss was another matter altogether.

  If I didn't have any luck, Janek said to tell Karst to expect a visit from him. A visit from a chief watcher would be unwanted, even though Nathrach wasn't being accused of anything. No other casino owner in town would want a chief watcher to be seen on their doorsteps, and I was counting on the goblin and his elven manager not being an exception.

  Of course, if things went smoothly, I wouldn't mention Janek's name at all. I was relatively optimistic; even though at the moment I couldn’t recall the last time any of my investigations had gone off without a hitch.

  I was going to Sirens because even though Tamnais Nathrach hadn't kidnapped those children, chances were good that he'd know about a dark mage in town with a mini-demon sidekick. To me, it was only logical that if Nathrach was trying to avoid sullying his respectable reputation, he could hardly do so without knowing who he needed to avoid. And if Nathrach's past reputation was as depraved as I'd heard, he'd know what the kidnapper had planned for the eight children who were magically gifted beyond their years—and how and why I'd heard a child crying coming from Sethis Mortsani.

  Those children’s bodies would begin to die tomorrow morning. That meant we had less than twenty-four hours to find the kidnapper and reunite the children’s souls with their bodies. I didn't begin to understand how that worked, but that part wasn't my job. That was up to Malina Adler, two of her nachtmagus friends, and the healers who'd worked the stasis spells.

  Nathrach had been chatty enough with me last night. I was hoping for more cooperation this morning, even though my waking him up at one o’clock in the afternoon would be like him showing up on my doorstep at one in the morning. I would not be amused. In fact, the only thing I’d be inclined to do would be to shut the door in his face.

  I didn’t have much of a plan for getting Lorcan Karst to wake up his boss for me other than to speak honestly about how there was no time to waste. I also didn’t know much about Karst other than Nathrach had hired him away from the Duke’s Palace, which used to be the top casino until Sirens opened; and that only meant that Karst could be persuaded with money.

  Making a living as a seeker meant I’d never had an abundance of money on hand. And if I had, bribery wasn’t my thing. Even with all the criminal types I dealt with on a daily basis, I still liked to believe that most people were decent at heart and wanted to do the right thing.

  I really didn’t have time or patience for Lorcan Karst to be today’s exception.

  It turned out I didn’t need to worry about how I was going to convince Sirens’ manager that my problem was his concern.

  Tamnais Nathrach himself was standing at Sirens’ dock entrance, signing for what looked like a shipment of wine.

  Either Nathrach hadn’t been to bed, or he simply liked to wear black. Or maybe he was one of those people who could get by on next to no sleep.

  When he finished signing for the delivery, he looked directly at me, as if he’d known I was standing there the entire time. Though I couldn’t say for certain since he was wearing a pair of round, dark-tinted spectacles against the reflection of the afternoon sun on the canal.

  He passed the paper back to the delivery guy without looking away from me, then walked down the dock to the pier where I stood.

  “Another visit, Mistress Benares?” He gave me an open, welcoming smile. “And to think I dreaded having to be awake at this hour.”

  “Master Karst isn’t working today?”

  The goblin’s smile faded. “He is, but he’s on an errand for me. So you’re here to speak with Lorcan?”

  “Yes and no. I would’ve been trying to talk him into waking you up.” I hesitated. Here went nothing. “I need a favor.”

  Nathrach’s grin was slow and dangerous. “Favors among goblins are not lightly given.”

  “How about to an elf?”

  “Rarely, if at all. However, that would depend on the favor.” His grin got a little more dangerous. “And the elf.”

  Maybe I shouldn’t have used the word “favor.”

  “I need information—and I believe you’re quite possibly the best source I know.”

  “But we only just met last night.” I heard the amusement in his voice. “We hardly know each other, and here you are asking favors.”

  “I realize that—”

  Nathrach held out his arm courtier-style. “What I meant was why don’t we get to know each other better, then you may ask your favor. To begin with, I insist that you call me Tam.”

  I hesitated, then placed my hand over his, feeling more than a little silly being escorted like a highborn lady, especially while wearing my leathers.

  I didn’t feel nearly as silly once we stepped inside Sirens. You wouldn’t know it was a bright, sunny day outside from the nearly pitch dark on the inside.

  I thought the lights would be turned up in a casino during the day. Apparently not in a casino owned by a goblin. Heck, Nathrach didn’t even take his dark spectacles off until we were halfway across the main floor. Even once my eyes adjusted, I could barely see where I was going. Good thing Nathrach didn’t have that problem.

  “Kells, would you have tea and refreshments sent to my office?”

  I didn’t see who Nathrach was speaking to until
he moved. Damn. You knew it was dark when you didn’t see a hobgoblin standing—though it was more like looming—less than ten feet away.

  Kells inclined his head, turned, and stepped through what must have been a doorway next to where he’d been working behind the bar. I say “must have” because I hadn’t seen that, either.

  The goblin mage’s office was on the first level, down a hallway, behind the nightclub’s main bar.

  Nathrach seated me in one of two plush chairs across from his desk. Rather than sit behind his desk, he took the chair opposite me.

  While I prided myself on my ability to quickly adapt to a changing situation, I didn’t expect to be sitting next to a very much awake, alert, and even playful Tamnais Nathrach. Though the playful part might come in handy when I essentially told him that I’d come to him because of his previous vast experience being in league with the forces of evil. At least that was how it’d probably sound when I tried to explain it. A diplomat, I was not.

  That’d squash the playful right out of him.

  “You seem hesitant, Mistress Benares. I assure you whatever you have to ask, I will have heard it before.”

  “Oh, I seriously doubt that. It’s rather personal.”

  He smiled slowly. “For you or for me?”

  “You.”

  “You continue to intrigue me, Mistress Benares.”

  Those kids didn’t have time for me to work my way up to this. I simply came right out and told him everything I’d heard from Janek and Malina this morning, and what I’d heard coming from Sethis Mortsani last night. As I did, I saw Tamnais Nathrach’s sense of play go bye-bye.

  “Those children have until sunrise tomorrow for us to find their souls,” I said, “and we have no idea of where to start.”

  “‘We’ as in you and the city watch.”

  “That’s right.”

  “And they didn’t come to question me themselves.”

  “I thought you might be more willing to help if someone other than a watcher asked. It’d be less. . . official that way.” But it was plenty awkward.

  “So you’re a private investigator who also works with Mermeian law enforcement.”