A Murder of Mages (37 page)

S
ATRINE 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.

Chapter 24

S
ATRINE WAS SURPRISED THAT Welling hadn’t yet arrived when she reached the stationhouse. The whole inspectors’ floor had an eerie quiet to it. Miss Pyle moved about like a hummingbird. No lamps were burning in Cinellan’s office. The other desks were empty, save for Kellman and Mirrell, who conferenced in hushed voices at their desks. Satrine was more than aware of the nervous glances they gave her as she passed them, though Kellman had the decency to say a brief good morning to her.

Satrine sat at her desk behind Welling’s slateboards. After a moment, she realized that she had barely spent more than a few minutes at her desk, and had done very little to make the space her own. It was still covered with Welling’s own mess. Satrine had no clue how to even start to sort through it.

The same was true of the slateboards. A few parts popped out as sensible. Hessen Tomar, Jaelia Tomar. Street names. Single words with question marks. Lines drawn between those words. Welling had a system, she was sure it all made sense to him, but she didn’t have the patience or energy to crack it herself.

Miss Pyle came over with two cups of tea, placed them on the desks and began clearing the old cups.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to do that,” Satrine said.

“I say a lot of things to Minox,” Miss Pyle said.

“I’m surprised he isn’t here already,” Satrine said. “Or is he already out on another call?”

“He was still sleeping when I left the house,” Miss Pyle said. “Which is unusual.”

Given the abuse Welling took from the major, and the killer, and the Light and Stone mages, it wasn’t at all surprising to Satrine that he slept in. “You live in the same house?”

Miss Pyle laughed. “Three generations of Wellings. My parents, Minox’s mother, our brothers and sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins, and Grammy Jillian.” She nodded her head to the charcoal sketch on the wall.

“She’s one I’d love to meet,” Satrine said.

“You should have been at dinner last night, then. She rarely comes down anymore, but she surprised us last night when Joshea joined us.”

“Joshea?” Satrine asked. “Do you mean . . . Joshea Brondar?”

“You know him?” Miss Pyle said. “He’s very handsome, I think, but Ferah had her eyes on him—”

“Joshea Brondar was at your home last night?” Satrine couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“He’s Minox’s friend,” Miss Pyle said, though doubt was crossing her face. “Right?”

“Of course,” Satrine said. She waved it off like it was nothing. “I’m just surprised Minox didn’t go right to sleep after the past two days.”

Miss Pyle opened up her mouth to respond, but whatever she was about to say was lost in Captain Cinellan’s storming through the doors of the inspectors’ floor.

“Miss Pyle,” he called out. “Tea on my desk. Kellman, Mirrell, in my office.”

Pyle jumped to her feet. “Yes, Captain.”

Kellman and Mirrell hurried over to the office. Cinellan glowered in Satrine’s direction. “Where’s Welling?”

“Haven’t seen him yet,” Satrine said.

Cinellan grunted. “Send him in here when he shows.” With Kellman and Mirrell in his office, Cinellan secluded himself inside and shut the door.

Miss Pyle rushed back, tea in hand.

“Is this a typical morning for him?” Satrine asked. Miss Pyle shrugged and let herself into the office. She all but ran out seconds later.

Satrine sipped at her own tea. Without specific directive, other than wait for Welling, she wasn’t sure what she should do. And once Welling arrived, she should send him in to Cinellan’s closed door meeting, whatever that was about. Though she definitely wanted words of her own with Welling. What the blazes was he doing having Joshea Brondar at his house, with his family? Welling may have dismissed the man as a suspect, but he was still involved in the investigation. If it went to trial, he might be needed as a witness, and that could sour the whole mash.

At least it would put Hilsom’s nose out of place. That was something.

Welling came up the stairs, out of breath and wild-eyed. “My apologies,” he said to no one in particular as he crossed the floor. “Where is—”

“Captain’s office,” Satrine said, crossing over to him. “You’re supposed to join them.”

Welling raised an eyebrow. “Did the captain say why?”

“No,” Satrine said, putting as much edge as she could onto the word.

“Ah,” Welling said. “I believe I understand.”

“Good,” Satrine said. “Perhaps you could explain it to me.”

Welling glanced around, his eyes finding his cousin, sitting at her desk. “I am not at liberty to at the moment.”

“Perhaps you could explain why a person of note in our case had dinner at your house last night, then,” Satrine said.

That stopped Welling short. After blinking several times, he nodded and said, “I really should join the captain now.” He didn’t wait for her response, going straight into the office, shutting the door behind him.

“Well,” Satrine said to no one in particular. “I guess I
should clean my desk, or tune up my crossbow or something.”