A Flight of Ravens

by John Conroe

  “The princess and the king?” I asked.

  “Both safe and under guard.”

  I thought fast, then yanked the door back open. Fontina was right where I had left her, under Soshi’s narrowed gaze.

  “Today’s session is cancelled. Let’s get your earplugs back on and your blindfold. We’re headed out.”

  “Your debrief has barely begun. Time is of an essence with regard to the woldling’s information.”

  “Well, no one will be questioning him for the time being and I’m not leaving you here.”

  “I must insist.”

  “Which carries no weight whatsoever. Plus, your boss is going to want you at the castle two hours ago.”

  “What’s happened?”

  “Lady Dominick has been assassinated.”

  “Didn’t you, yourself, design the prison and castle defenses?” she asked, eyebrow arching.

  “I played a role in both, but it was a committee that included your boss, and, as you know, the defenses were tested by both agencies. If I recall, your signature was one also listed on the Raven’s report.”

  She frowned, her lips thinning, before finally nodding.

  Soshi moved up behind her, earplugs and blindfold in hand.

  Fontina reached backward without looking, holding her hand palm up for the plugs.

  She put them in herself, but Soshi checked their fit, then wound the blindfold back over her eyes. As soon as she stepped back, Drew pulled the black bag over our Raven’s head and cinched it down to block light from below.

  We spun her around, then led her through a different set of tunnels and up a different set of stairs. The same carriage was waiting as we exited. The building we left was twenty spans from the one we had entered, which was the Knife and Needle itself. We had a warren of tunnels underneath, some of which led to neighboring buildings that we also owned. We were keeping Ash close to hand in the center of our territory.

  Chapter 14

  We travelled around Haven for about thirty-five minutes and ended up at the castle, where we released Fontina.

  “I will accompany you, as I will not have you returning to your questioning without me. If this was all a ploy to remove me, the king will hear of it,” she said as the blindfold and earplugs came off.

  A royal guardsman trotted up to us. “Captain, please follow me. Your presence is needed.”

  We walked at a fast pace into the offices and then came upon a full squad of guards with naked steel at the main gate to the lower levels. At swordpoint, we were tested with the vile green urmak fluid to verify that we weren’t shapers. Then we descended into the basements and got a second round of tests at the gates to the jail cells, normal procedure to prevent a shaper from infiltrating.

  An offshoot of the Paul’s experiments, shapers could literally mold their facial features into those of someone else. Their skulls are malleable, and they can literally look into a mirror, pushing and pressing their faces around with their fingers until they take on another’s shape.

  It requires great skill and experience to copy another person’s face; they are also trained in the actor’s makeup art to the highest level. The compound urmak, derived from a rare plant, causes an instant and very painful skin reaction with shapers, a dead giveaway.

  I thought about how the guards had just tested us at both checkpoints, the tactical part of my mind bothered with their methodology.

  A large group of guards ahead, at the cells, alerted me to royal presences, as did King Helat’s deep voice.

  Warily, the guards stepped a little aside to let us through to join the king and princess, along with Slinch, Colonel Erser, and Doctor Eltienne, the royal physicker. I noticed Rose standing a little behind Brona’s left side, with Salis on my princess’s other flank.

  Brent was close behind the king, and his eyes were on everyone around them instead of the gory scene inside the cell.

  King Helat met my eyes, his stare hard and angry. I nodded and then turned my attention to the area of the crime.

  Lady Dominick lay on her back, draped over her thin, hard cot. Her throat was cut almost to the spine and blood spattered everywhere, pooling on the rock underneath her.

  “How?” Helat asked me, his eyes flicking to include Fontina. Slinch made to speak but stilled when the king raised his hand without looking away from us.

  “She was killed by a single stroke of a very sharp blade across the throat,” Fontina said, moving forward. “The killer stood about here,” she said, putting herself in the spot that had a discernable lack of spatter.

  Helat waved her explanation away as inconsequential. She might be a highly skilled operative at the top of her game, but I think she lacked experience dealing with the king himself. The manner of the death stroke was obvious to anyone with any edged weapon skill.

  “How many guards died?” I asked Erser.

  “Three. One back here and the two at the jail checkpoint.”

  “How were they killed?” I asked Doctor Eltienne.

  “A sharp, narrow blade, likely a stiletto. Same weapon that killed her,” Eltienne said with a wave at the bloody cell. “The two by the gate were taken from behind, kidney and throat. The one killed here was a straight stab up through the throat into the brain.”

  “What are you thinking?” King Helat asked, more curious then demanding.

  “Our testing procedure has grown stale,” I said as my mind delivered its analysis of the testing issue. I pushed up both sleeves and turned my arms over to show my testing marks. “The guards all apply the urmak to the same spot on our inner forearms.”

  Most of them looked at their own forearms—except Brona, who gave me a wicked bright smile. She always appreciates it when I demonstrate I’m not just a sharp spear, waiting to be thrown at the enemy.

  “I don’t think it would be hard to come up with some kind of prosthetic fake inner arm pad,” I added.

  Erser grimaced and swore while Slinch wore a thoughtful expression. I could tell Fontina was looking at me from my left side, but I couldn’t see her face in my peripheral vision. The doctor was nodding.

  “Colonel,” King Helat said.

  “I’ll update all the guards immediately and prepare my resignation letter, Your Majesty,” Erser said.

  “You don’t have my permission to resign, Colonel,” the king said. “Just get our procedures updated.”

  The colonel saluted the king and left the cell. King Helat turned his eyes back on me. He didn’t have to say a word.

  “Where are the guards’ bodies and why were they moved?” I asked.

  Slinch answered. “We moved them to the cell on the end of this row. It was considered wise to test each one to be sure it wasn’t a shaper pretending death, you know, with the king and crown princess headed here,” he said, his tone carrying a little bite, like sharp cheddar cheese.

  I turned while he was still speaking, walking to the aforementioned cell. Three bodies laid next to one another, each bloody and smelling of death-loosened bowels.

  “Savid, I want you to Find who did this,” the king ordered. His meaning was clear to Slinch and Fontina, both of their eyes lighting up at the emphasis on Find. The doctor’s expression didn’t change, so he might not have understood.

  “That will depend on what evidence has been left behind,” I said, wincing internally at the king’s release of my secret. “And so far, I haven’t seen anything useful.”

  “I have only conducted a cursory examination, but I did spot a shine of metal in the mouth of the last guard killed,” the doctor offered, demonstrating that he’d clearly understood the king’s comment. “The strike came up through the bottom of the jaw, glanced off several teeth, and then punched through the roof of the mouth.” He moved up next to me and pried open the mouth in question.

  Brona, herself, held a torch over top of the guard so that I could see the tiny glimmer on the poor man’s gumline amid the shards of broken teeth. She looked fascinated as the doctor pulled clever metal tw
eezers from a pocket inside his white smock and, with a completely steady hand, extracted the sliver. I held out my silk pocket cloth and he dropped the speck of metal on it.

  “Is it enough?” my princess asked.

  “I won’t know till I try. Death leaves an impression on weapons that can cloud things, and if it was a new weapon to the killer, there might not be much to work with,” I said, trying to ignore my discomfort at this open conversation.

  “I had heard rumors, from members of your own family, that you were uncommonly good at finding lost items, Savid,” Slinch said. “But this speaks of a much more… refined Talent.”

  “Which you will keep to yourselves,” the king said, pinning first Slinch and then the doctor and Fontina with his stare. As much as he might think his royal word inviolate, I knew better.

  “If you’ll excuse me, Your Majesty, Your Highness, I will see what I can do with this,” I said.

  “Oh, but I wanted to watch,” Slinch said, almost joyous.

  “Not a spectator sport, Neil,” Brona said suddenly. “Leave him to his trade.”

  I moved to an empty cell, worried that there wasn’t going to be much of my trade. I was right. The metal yielded nothing of value.

  “Why?” King Helat asked when I reported back.

  “Likely it was a very new weapon for the killer. Probably first-time use. The violence of the killings easily overpowered any impressions of the killer themselves.”

  “What do you propose?” he asked.

  “Old-fashioned tradecraft. We start with who has been in to see Lady Dominick. Word of her jailing is pretty recent information,” I said.

  “A group of seven High Family representatives were cleared by His Majesty to visit her early this morning,” Neil Slinch said, holding up the guards’ logbook. “This afternoon’s visitor page was ripped out.”

  “May I see that?” Brona asked. Slinch dutifully handed it over. Rose looked over her shoulder.

  “This morning’s party consisted of Ladies Olden and Kardian, your father, and both of your brothers, Savid,” the princess said, “Lord Hatch, and Steven Grantell.” She let the hand holding the book to fall to her side and Rose gently tugged on it. With a surprised look, Brona released it to the young girl, who brushed her fingers over the page from the day before.

  “What is it, Rose?”

  The girl tore a piece of paper from her own notebook and laid it over the guards’ book. “The guards seem to write with a lead hand. There is an impression on this page of what was written on today’s page… Your Highness,” she added quickly. She took a stick of drawing charcoal from her bag and rubbed it sideways on the paper. Then she blew off the dust and held it up to the light for a second before handing it to Brona.

  “It’s hard to read—jumbled with the letters already on the page, but it looks like a G, R, A, then a straight line that could be an I or an L,” Brona said, looking at the rubbing.

  Rose peeked over her shoulder again and pointed at the page. “Oh, good eye, Rose. It has a little peak at the top, like a capital A or an N.”

  “Grantell?” King Helat asked.

  “Possibly,” Brona allowed. “At least three of the Grantells were logged through the outer gate this afternoon. As well as Lord Grainge.”

  The king turned to his chief Raven. “Question them all. Find out what alibis they have; what they were doing today in the lower level.”

  “Yes, Sire. I’ll put my best person on it,” he said with a nod toward Fontina.

  “Do it now, Neil,” the king said.

  “As you say, Sire. Savid, too bad your Talent wasn’t able to sniff anything out, eh?” Slinch said to me with a mocking look. “Perhaps the Paul should give you the nose of a woldling.”

  Both Ravens left, Slinch grinning, Fontina’s expression blank.

  “Keep digging, Savid,” the king said before also leaving with young Brent in his wake.

  Chapter 15

  “What would you even use?” Brona asked, her brow puzzled.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Sorry. I was thinking of what Neil said. If any of us could smell like a hound, what would we even smell to track the killer? The scents in here have to be jumbled all to hell.”

  Brona has a sharp intellect that loves to solve problems. I looked at the cell again, trying to think like Jella would.

  “What about the book itself?” Rose asked. “The killer handled it when he or she ripped the page out.”

  “But so have we, and a half dozen other people,” I said, studying the cell and the murder scene.

  “The killer let themselves into the cell, which would be ballsy considering a Lash’s hand-to-hand combat skills,” I said. “And it’s not like she was weakened by captivity. Her food and water were more than adequate.”

  “What if the killer was unafraid because Dominick knew him or her?” Brona mused.

  “Or heard the correct response to her code phrase,” I said. “Did she speak her phrase when her official visitors were here yesterday?” I asked.

  Brona nodded, waving a hand at the end cell holding the slain jailers. “The guard reported to me yesterday that she asked all seven of them the same phrase. Young Grantell just laughed as if he was nervous. Your brother Tallen joked that the best heroes never leave home, and your father just swore. Lady Kardian asked her if it was true that she was a spy, but Dominick only smiled and wouldn’t say another word to anyone. They first tried to talk to her, then talked about her, then left. The whole thing took five or six minutes.”

  “So perhaps our killer was one of the seven?” I surmised.

  “Half of them were your family members, Savid,” Brona said.

  “Yup.”

  “If the guard wrote Gran or Grain, shouldn’t we look at Grantell and Grainge?” Rose asked.

  “That’s an obvious path,” I said. “The main gate to the lower levels has a significant number of people going through it daily. Soldiers headed to the armory, jailers and cleaning staff coming to these cells, government officials and High Family agents visiting the treasury at the other end of the cellars, and a few people with business on the levels below this one. It’s not at all uncommon for either of those families to be down here. Also, it might not refer to them at all.”

  “A skilled spy leaves multiple twisted trails and back trails, much like a Drodacian Forester would. Anything that seems obvious most likely is,” Brona said.

  “Oh, like leaving evidence to frame some other gang when you steal from a High Family,” Rose said.

  Brona looked around at her and Rose immediately flushed. “Or so I’ve read in novels,” she said.

  “Good recovery, country girl,” the princess said in a dry tone.

  I was still trying to focus my thinking like a predator, one that hunted by scent. An idea was tickling the back of my mind, triggered by Slinch’s parting words. The cell door stood open, swung out fully.

  “Was the cell discovered with the door open?” I asked, looking closer at the handle and lock.

  “Yes, exactly as you see it. Other than moving the guards’ bodies, nothing in here was touched,” Brona said, her brows going up in a silent question.

  The heavy key was still in the lock, a corded leather lanyard hanging down from it.

  “Oh, I know that look,” the princess said. “It happens every time you are about to do something crazy.”

  “Then I have to work on my game face because that’s exactly what I’m contemplating.”

  “Do I want to know?”

  “Nope,” I answered with a smile. “Deniability is the word of the day.”

  “Seems like it’s the word of the year for this kingdom,” she said, frowning, but she nodded her acceptance.

  Chapter 16

  My plan required nightfall, which dragged on my nerves. A cold trail is much harder to pick up, especially when scents are involved. But there were a lot of moving parts to put into place and the time flew by. I even managed to grab another quick nap b
efore night fell, coming early and fast as it does to Montshire in December.

  The streets were mostly empty, an icy wind blowing down from the mountains, driving sane citizens into their homes early. The wind was bothersome to my plan, but I was grateful for the lack of witnesses as my small group moved slowly through Haven in two carriages.

  We met agent Fontina at the main gates of the castle.

  “Where’s my blindfold?” she asked when we showed her into the first carriage.

  “We’re not taking you to where Ash was,” I said.

  She frowned and looked ready to argue, then stopped herself as my words penetrated deeper.

  “Was?”

  “Just hold on. Drew, let’s go. Time’s wasting.”

  The carriage turned and moved away from the castle and onto Brighton Street, which most of the city call the Street of the Families. Drew trotted the horses all the way to the end of the street, then stopped and turned around, the carriage behind us doing the same. At this point, I climbed out, Fontina following. We walked back to the second carriage and Jella opened the window as we approached. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a silk-wrapped bundle. The window of the seat across from Jella’s opened and Welton peeked out, saw me, and frowned at Fontina. Then a giant furry hand, a paw really, gently moved him out of the way and Ash’s woldling snout poked out of the opening.

  “You’re out of your mind,” Fontina whispered, so clearly shocked that it might have been a real reaction.

  “Quite possibly,” I said, unwrapping the bundle to reveal the iron jail key and its attached lanyard. Ash gave me a hard look with his red eyes, but then leaned farther out and sniffed the bundle several times. He sneezed and growled, pulling back into the darkness of the carriage.

  I glanced at Jella, who was watching him, waiting until she looked my way and nodded before I motioned to the driver, Soshi, to start forward.

  Slowly the carriage moved up the Street of the Families while Fontina and I kept pace beside it. We were headed back up the hill toward the castle, the size and opulence of the houses we passed rising as did the social rank of the families who owned them.