Manfred nodded.
“I know him from the docks, I do,” Zinnig said. “He lives in the Swamp, but spends all his days on the docks running errands for the ships. Carries messages, fetches people, that sorta thing, he does.”
“Who’s he been working for lately?” Manfred asked.
“That’s the funny thing—he usually works for lots of folks, he does, but lately it’s been all for the Esmerelda. Like he went exclusive with them, he did.”
They chatted for a few more minutes, and Manfred promised to raise a toast to Simon’s tragic new career as a desk jockey before finally heading over to the detectives’ table. For one thing, he had something good to tell Torin, as that tidbit from Zinnig was the most useful thing he’d found out all day.
Torin was speaking as Manfred worked his way back to the corner table. “. . . and I find myself wondering what Lord Blayk knows about the state of Flingarian politics that we don’t.” He was drinking an ale, as was almost everyone. A pitcher sat in the center of the table, and Manfred noticed two empty flagons.
“I can’t imagine what it might be,” Aleta said in reply. She was the only one not drinking an ale, instead partaking of a red wine. “Who would we be fighting against anyhow? There’ve been no issues with the dwarves, and my people are a disaster. There isn’t any kind of naval buildup to go with this, so it can’t be one of the island nations.”
“Maybe we’re takin’ on the barbarians up north,” Dru said with a snort.
Kellan finally noticed that there was a new arrival. “Manfred, hey! Now we got the whole squad!” He poured some ale into one of the two remaining flagons.
Dru held up his flagon. “Yup. And that means I can finally say this: a toast to Hawk from the whole detective squad!”
Cries of “To Hawk” and “For Hawk” and such came from many around the table. Manfred, for his part, took the flagon from Kellan and then banged it against as many of the others’ as he could before gulping some down.
He sat between Kellan and Dru. To his disappointment, but lack of surprise, Danthres wasn’t making any kind of eye contact with him. He really didn’t understand what went wrong there. It had been a magickal night, but after that, she treated him with nothing but disdain—even beyond the usual disdain she displayed toward anyone who wasn’t Torin.
Speaking of Torin, he, at least, was willing to make eye contact. “Were you at all successful today, Manfred?”
“Not with the magick shops, no. Most of the shop owners either laughed when I asked about a Keefda stone, or they tried way too hard to convince me that they could get one for me cheap.”
Torin snorted. “Boneen said they go for five thousand gold.”
Manfred nodded. “Right. It might be that one of the ones who said they couldn’t get one were lying—or they might’ve been telling the truth because they already sold it and didn’t want to give their client up.”
Dru spoke up. “We actually gotta be talkin’ to some’a the shops t’see who mighta bought the Snavli charm that hid the weapons from the king and queen’s magick detectors. You want, we can ask about the Keefda stone, too.”
Frowning, Kellan asked, “What difference would that make? Manfred already asked.”
Danthres rolled her eyes. “Use what passes for your brain, Kellan. Manfred’s asking about a bar brawl. Nobody’s going to give enough of a shit about that to cooperate, because there isn’t anything in it for them. But these two are looking into an assassination attempt on the king and queen. Anybody involved in that is risking being boiled in oil. They’ll cooperate.”
“Is that really ethical?” Aleta was looking at Dru.
“It gets the job done.” Dru shrugged. “ ’Sides, we gotta look out for each other. ’Specially now, with fish-face in charge.”
“Oh,” Manfred said after sipping more ale, “something else—I just talked to one of the guards in Dragon who transferred over from Mermaid. Says he knows Beffel—he runs errands for boats all the time, but lately he’s been working entirely for the Esmerelda. Maybe tomorrow we can check the boat out and . . .”
He trailed off because he noticed that Dru and Aleta were exchanging surprised expressions.
Then Aleta stared intently at Manfred. “The Esmerelda? You sure?”
“Hardly surprising,” Danthres said dismissively, “Zaile and his crew always have their hands in something. Or several somethings.”
Dru was shaking his head. “Yeah, but the Esmerelda’s the boat that the assassins came in on.”
“What?!” That was Danthres and Torin both, and Manfred couldn’t help but sputter his ale at the two of them speaking in unison.
Now it was Torin shaking his head. “This is starting to make an odd kind of sense.”
“What is?” Manfred asked.
“Why a five-thousand-gold stone is being used to hide an assault, and also why Beffel has been so reluctant to talk and so hard to find. If Gobink’s fellow conspirators beat up Beffel in order to make sure he didn’t talk to us about them, they wouldn’t want Boneen to be able to pick them out of a peel-back.”
With a snort, Danthres added, “Of course, it hardly matters now that we don’t have Boneen . . .”
“Yes, well, perhaps your conversation with Lady Meerka will bear fruit in that regard.” Torin turned to Aleta. “You two should definitely canvass the magick shops tomorrow—look for both the charm used by the assassins and the Keefda stone.”
“Shouldn’t we bring this to the captain first?” Aleta asked.
Dru, Danthres, and Torin all snickered. Torin said, “There would be little point.”
Putting a hand on his partner’s shoulder, Dru said, “Osric is ‘the captain.’ Grovis is just a shitbrain that got promoted. We can talk to his stupid ass when we actually arrest someone.”
“Besides,” Danthres said, “it isn’t as if that idiot’s actually running anything. It’s become increasingly obvious that Grovis is simply serving as a conduit for Lord Blayk.” She shook her head. “I honestly don’t know what’s worse, Grovis thinking for himself or Grovis unquestioningly doing whatever the lord says. Whenever Osric disagreed with Lord Albin or one of the other noble shitbrains, he always stood up for us. I can’t see Grovis standing up for much of anything.”
Manfred was still thinking about the next day’s plan. “What if the assassins had both the charm and the stone all along? Or got them wherever they came in from on the Esmerelda?”
“Then we’re screwed,” Danthres said bluntly. She gulped down some ale. “And furthermore—” She interrupted herself with a belch.
Aleta winced. “Must you do that?”
Danthres scowled at Aleta. “Except for you, Shranlaseth, everyone at this table has belched at least once.”
“I haven’t,” Manfred said, raising a hand.
“Everyone who’s been here more than a few minutes,” Danthres added with a glower at Manfred. Oh, well, at least I got her to look at me.
“My name is Aleta—I’m not Shranlaseth anymore, no one is—and I’ll thank you to use my name, halfbreed.”
“You first.”
“Enough, both of you,” Torin said.
But Aleta stood up. “Excuse me. The air in here has gotten foul.”
She pushed past the various tables to leave the Chain.
Manfred watched her leave, then also got up. “I’m gonna make sure she’s okay.”
“I’d stay out of her way,” Dru said, holding up a cautionary hand.
“We’ve been serving together in Dragon.” Manfred smiled. “I’ll be fine, I’ve learned when to duck while talking to her.”
He heard Danthres mutter that it was a waste of time as he left the tavern.
Once he reached the door, he saw Aleta standing in the middle of Meerka Way, fists clenched.
Deliberately approaching her from the left side—nobody approached Aleta from behind, at least not twice—Manfred asked, “You okay?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Where do
es that halfbreed bitch get off talking to me that way?”
“Uhm, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but she talks like that to everyone. Well, except Torin, and even then sometimes.”
“No, it’s different with me.” Aleta sighed. “She treats me like I’m some kind of foul creature.”
“Like I said, she’s like that with most people. It’s her way. And I don’t think you’re asking the right question.”
Now, finally, Aleta looked at him. “What do you mean?”
“Where do you get off talking to her that way?”
“I beg your pardon?”
Manfred was getting nervous now, as Aleta packed a great deal of menace in those four words, but he soldiered on. “I’ve watched you, Aleta. You talk to everyone with politeness and respect. And if they outrank you, it’s out-and-out deferential, even if you don’t respect the person. But not Danthres—her, you treat like something you stepped in, and I’ve never seen you talk like that to anyone who wasn’t a dockrat or a beggar in Goblin. Even that nobleman from Barlin who tried to get you fired after that thing at the theatre, you still called him ‘sir.’”
Aleta actually smiled at that. “To his face, of course I did. He had the ear of the lord and lady, he deserved respect.”
“And Danthres doesn’t?”
“She’s a halfbreed!” Aleta said those words as if they explained everything.
And perhaps they did. “So you lied back there.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Manfred swallowed. The second utterance of that phrase was even scarier than the first. “You told Danthres you weren’t Shranlaseth anymore. Well, you coulda fooled me. You’re in the Guard now, and we don’t give a shit who your father had sex with.”
With that, he took his life into his hands by turning his back on her and walking back into the Chain. He wanted to rejoin his comrades and friends.
FIFTEEN
Dru and Aleta had spent the entire day since roll call going to every magick shop in Cliff’s End. They started in Dragon, in part due to the proximity (there were no shops in Unicorn, as that region was entirely residential), but mainly because the more expensive items they were after were more likely to be sold in the shops in Dragon than the ones in Goblin or Mermaid.
Unfortunately, while every owner was, as predicted, completely cooperative once they mentioned they were investigating the attempt on the lives of the king and queen, they weren’t actually helpful. Nobody had a Keefda stone—though most would have gratefully sold one if they had one—and only two Snavli charms had been sold in the past year. One was to an elderly man who died at midsummer—according to his widow, he erroneously thought the disease he eventually died of was caused by magick, and that the charm would save him—and the other to a merchant who was passing through Cliff’s End and booked passage on a boat to take him south.
Both those Snavli charms were sold in Dragon. They had no luck at the Goblin magick shops—they specialized in cheaper charms and love potions and the like—and when the detectives reached the River Walk that brought them into Mermaid, Dru turned to Aleta. “I think we’re pretty much done here.”
“There are three magick shops on the River Walk. We’ve checked every other shop, might as well check them.”
Dru sighed. “I guess, but it’s all weather charms an’ anti-nausea potions in those places.”
The time chimes then rang once, indicating that it was half past eighteen. Aleta glanced at Dru. “We’ve only got half an hour, anyhow, we might as well hit these last three shops, then we can call it a night without having to go back to the castle.”
Dru shot her a look. “Why don’t you wanna go back to the castle?”
Aleta looked away. “I just don’t.”
“Look, you gotta deal with Danthres some time. And I’d honestly rather it was sooner than later, ’cause I ain’t about to get inna middle’a you two pissin’ at each other. As a start, maybe stop callin’ her ‘halfbreed.’ She really don’t like that.”
“But it’s what she is!” Aleta threw up her hands in frustration. “You don’t understand.”
“Yeah, you’re right, I don’t. I’m assumin’ it’s that whole elven purity shit. I get a lotta that from elves when they first show up here. Reality’a life makes ’em get over it right quick, though.”
“One of the things they drilled into us in our training with the Shranlaseth was that the most horrible thing an elf can do is to breed with another race. We were trained to kill any halfbreed on sight.”
Dru snorted. “Yeah, I wouldn’t try that with Danthres.”
“Of course, I won’t, but—” She let out a long breath, and Dru noticed that her gloved fists were clenched. “It’s a lot to overcome.”
“Well, then overcome it. C’mon, I’ve seen how you handle yourself—and I heard Mannit tell the story about the Troll Riots over lunch yesterday, remember? You can do that, you can get past your trainin’ and see Danthres for what she is.”
“And what’s that?”
“The biggest pain in the ass you ever met in your life, an’ also one’a the best detectives you’ll ever work with. When Hawk and me first got promoted, she treated us like shit, about like usual, y’know? But we’d worked with her onna street before, so we kinda expected it. Anyhow, there was this one case, a murder me an’ Hawk caught. Turned out that the guy was connected to a series of robberies that Danthres an’ Torin were lookin’ into. So the four of us worked together, an’ I gotta tell ya, I learned more about the job from two days workin’ alongside her an’ Torin than I did in the year before that as a detective. She’s good, an’ the Guard wouldn’t be what it is right now if it wasn’t for her.”
“And Torin,” she added insistently.
Dru rolled his eyes. “Yeah, an’ Torin, but Torin only got the job ’cause Osric figured he was the only one could keep her ass in check. He was right, too.” He sighed. “I seriously miss Osric. He yelled at me ten times a week whether I needed it or not, but he was a real good boss.”
Aleta nodded. “Manfred said something similar about the half—” She cleared her throat. “About Lieutenant Tresyllione last night. I will endeavor to work with her.”
“Good.”
They approached the entrance to Shrenthorshi’s Magick Shop.
Looking up at the sign, Dru smiled, noticing that the name of the store was in both Common and Ra-Telvish. “So I’m gonna go out on a limb an’ say that an elf owns this place.”
Aleta smirked. “Brilliant detective work, Lieutenant Dru.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant lothLathna.” Dru bowed, and they both went in.
Sure enough, there was a male elf behind the counter, which was circular, located in the center of the space. He had very short dirty blond hair, and prominent tapered ears, as well as a silk shirt and purple tights. Dru thought he was trying a little too hard, considering he mostly sold to dockrats and tourists.
He was talking to an elderly halfling couple, who were examining potions. “Now, I know everyone says that the Mazur potion is better because it’s more expensive and tastes like honey, but I think you’ll find that the Wardwood potion is far, far stronger. Mind you, it tastes horrible, but it’s also only thirty coppers, as opposed to two silver for the Mazur. Just wash it down with some wine to get rid of the taste, and it’ll last half again as long.”
The couple exchanged a nod, and then paid the elf the thirty coppers for the Wardwood potion.
As soon as they left, Dru said, “I’m impressed. Most merchants would take the extra twenty coppers an’ sold the Mazur.”
The elf shrugged. “The Wardwood really is stronger and cheaper, and giving customers good advice is the best way to get them to come back.”
Aleta chuckled. “Those two are from Treemark and are here on vacation. They’re also very old. You’ll be lucky if you ever see them again.”
“Perhaps.” The elf shrugged. “The principle is a sound one either way. What may I help you officers with?
”
“I’m Lieutenant Dru, this is Lieutenant lothLathna.”
“A pleasure. I’m Shrenthorshi lothHethra. Are you two here on business or do you wish to make a purchase?”
“Business,” Dru said. “We’re lookin’ into four people who tried to kill the king an’ queen at Lord Albin’s funeral.”
Shrenthorshi’s mouth formed an O. “My word. I had no idea anyone tried to do that.”
“We got ’em before they could try anything. Well, we got one of ’em—tryin’a find th’other three. Were hopin’ you could help us.”
“I can’t imagine how.” Shrenthorshi was sounding a little nervous now, but Dru couldn’t tell if that was because of the revelation that someone tried to kill the king and queen or something else. Certainly, everyone they had talked to had been apprehensive at the very notion of the assassination attempt.
Aleta said, “The conspirators bought two really expensive magickal items. A Keefda stone and a Snavli charm.”
“Well, believe me, Lieutenants, if I sold a Keefda, I’d be able to retire, and as for a Snavli, I’ve still got the same three in stock that I had when I opened the store. If there’s nothing else?”
Dru no longer had any doubts. Shrenthorshi was very nervous about something. “There’s a whole helluva lot else.”
Aleta moved forward to lean on the countertop. “You do understand what we’re investigating here, yes? The attempted murder of King Marcus and Queen Marta. This isn’t something we can simply overlook.”
“Look, I—” Suddenly, Shrenthorshi caught sight of something, because his eyes went very wide.
After a moment, Dru realized that he was staring right at the Shranlaseth tattoo that was on Aleta’s neck. Only part of it was visible jutting out from the neckline of her armor, but it was a very distinctive Ra-Telvish character.
“You—you—you’re Shranla— I can’t even say it.” Shrenthorshi started to back away from the edge of the counter, only to bump into the other side of it and jump. “Ahh! Look, I know what you people do!”
“And what is that?” Aleta asked sweetly.
Gryphon Precinct (Dragon Precinct) Page 13