Lisa Shearin - Raine Benares 01 (16 page)

“I
think Nigel’s house was just the Khrynsani’s first stop of the evening,” I
said.

The
watcher sat motionless. “The first. You think.”

I
nodded. “Simon Stocken’s warehouse was probably second.”

Janek’s
face was devoid of any expression. It was his watcher’s face. I found I didn’t
like being on the receiving end.

“Is
this your opinion, or do you know it as fact?” he asked.

“I
was at Stocken’s warehouse and sensed the remnants of a Gate. A few minutes
later I ran into Sarad Nukpana and a handful of his shamans.”

“A
Gate, Sarad Nukpana, a murdered Simon Stocken—and you.”

“Well,
and a few other people, but they don’t enter into the equation.”

“Why
don’t you let me decide that?”

“I’d
rather not.”

Janek
took a deep breath and quietly let it out. Then he just sat there for a few
moments. He looked at me. I looked back at him.

“And
this is related in some way to how Nigel ended up in the canal.”

I
shifted uncomfortably in my chair. “More than likely.”

“Are
you going to tell me or do I have to wait a couple of days for the next
installment?”

“Simon
Stocken was fencing what the goblins came here to steal.”

“Except
the goblins didn’t manage to steal it.”

I
nodded. “Right.”

“Do
you know who did?”

“Yes,
but I can’t tell you, and I promise this person’s identity has absolutely no
bearing on this case.”

“It
wasn’t you, was it?”

“No.”
I sat up straighter. I was insulted, but only mildly. Considering my family and
professional connections, I could hardly blame Janek for his conclusions.

Janek
sighed. I almost felt sorry for him. I knew this was driving him crazy. Or more
to the point, I was driving him crazy. Sometimes I had that effect on people.

“The
person who stole this object escaped from Nigel’s house and took it to Stocken
to collect the rest of the fee,” I said. “But I think the Khrynsani were there
first.”

I
opted to leave the Guardians out of it. It was confusing enough. Besides, Janek
was law enforcement; Mychael Eiliesor was law enforcement. I didn’t want to
find out the hard way that they had been old school buddies.

“Let
me get this straight,” Janek said. “I have Nigel and Simon Stocken, two
prominent Mermeian citizens dead, and in all probability, the murderer not only
has diplomatic immunity, but cannot be physically placed at either crime
scene.” He paused. “Does your nameless thief still have the thing that
everyone’s after?”

“No.”

“Do
you know where is it?”

I
knew enough to keep my mouth shut.

“I
could jail you on obstruction of justice and withholding evidence,” Janek told
me.

“Possibly.
But you won’t.”

“Give
me one good reason why not.”

“I’m
more valuable to you outside a cell than in.”

“As
what?”

“Bait.”

Janek
slowly walked around to the front of the desk and perched on it, directly in
front of me. He leaned forward. “Raine, you’re in possession of stolen
goods—either literally or by knowledge of location. In the eyes of the law it’s
the same thing. Why don’t you just turn it over to me?”

That
was true. I was in possession of stolen goods—stolen goods I couldn’t hand over
even if I wanted to. One, said goods would probably kill me if I tried; and
two, Janek was in no way qualified to defend himself against said goods or
those who wanted it. While I wasn’t any more qualified than Janek, I just
didn’t dump magical amulets on my friends then run away while every baddie in
the city jumped them. I had to take the moral high road sometime.

“Believe
me, Janek, I’d like nothing more, but truth is, I can’t.”

“Can’t
or won’t?”

“Can’t.”

“Do
you think you’ll be able to turn it over to me in the near future?”

“Nothing
would make me happier—and that’s the honest truth.”

Janek
sat back. “You’re going to be popular.”

“Too
late. I already am.”

“I
can spare a few men to stay close to you,” he said quietly.

I
almost said I didn’t need protection, but that was absurd. I needed all the
protection I could get. But I wasn’t going to take it from Janek’s already
depleted resources. The watch commissioner was notoriously stingy with his men,
especially in the Districts. It was a sincere and very generous offer.

“I
appreciate the offer, but we both know you can’t spare the men. Not now.
Besides, I’ve made other arrangements.”

Though
with no room at any of Markus’s safehouses, my arrangements had just gone up in
smoke. But I wasn’t about to tell Janek. He thought jail cells were safe; I
knew jail cells were death traps when someone like Sarad Nukpana was after you.

He
kept his eyes on mine. “The offer still stands. Just let me know.”

“Thank
you.”

Janek
stood. “Tell me one thing.”

“What’s
that?”

“If
you turn up on a table like Nigel, who do I go after first?”

“Good
question.”

In
my opinion, the best source for information on Sarad Nukpana
would be from a former member of the goblin royal family—especially
from a primaru, or shaman of the royal blood. I considered Primaru Tamnais
Nathrach a friend. Tam wanted to be more than friends. I wasn’t sure what I
wanted. I figured that friends or more than friends don’t normally kill each
other, regardless of the Mal’Salin duchess they used to be married to, so I
felt relatively safe paying Tam a visit.

Tam
was one of those scoundrels who’d come into my life and actually stayed there.
I knew him well enough to trust him—to a point. There were things about Tam
that I’d probably never know, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to. I think that was
part of his appeal.

In
addition to locating missing people, I was often hired to find missing objects.
Some of those objects were magical; most were mundane—and small and valuable
and shiny. Mermeia was more than a favorite retirement destination for mages;
it was a playground for mages and nobles alike. The kind of playground where if
you wanted to play, you had to pay. Tam owned Sirens, the most exclusive and
notorious nightclub and gambling parlor in the city. Most of the money that
found its way onto Tam’s tables came from the healthy bank accounts of the
mages or nobles placing the bets. Some of those bank accounts were less than
healthy. Tam wasn’t directly involved in stolen goods, but he did have
clientele who routinely came into unexpected bounty. Tam had no problem with
that bounty being spread around his establishment—even if that bounty had yet
to be converted into the coin of the realm.

Tam
and I met as a result of yet another cash-strapped noble working his way
through the remains of his wife’s inheritance to support his gambling habit.
One wife in particular drew the line at her grandmother’s favorite ring. She
hired me. I tailed her husband right to Tam’s high-stakes card table. The
husband tried to compel me to look the other way. I don’t compel, and I sure as
hell don’t look the other way. Tam’s been known to avert his eyes, as well as
have troublemakers like me tossed into the canal behind his club. Tam may be a
scoundrel and an opportunist, but he’s also a savvy businessman. It looked good
for him to return the lady’s ring. He told me later he did it to impress me.

Tam
considers me a challenge; I consider Tam a work in progress. I also think
there’s a gentleman lurking under that calculating exterior. Tam thinks
“gentleman” is a dirty word.

I
talk dirty to Tam every chance I get.

This
morning I wanted to talk to Tam about his former in-laws—and whether they had
contacted him when they had arrived in town. After his wife’s death, Tam had
asked to leave the royal family’s service. I had always suspected politics
played an equal role in his decision. I wanted to know if someone had tried to
pull him back in. Working for the Mal’Salin family wasn’t usually fatal, but
telling them you were quitting almost always was, even if you were family.
Especially if you were a talented shaman who had once provided a valuable
service. Many felt Tam’s talents were wasted on a nightclub. I disagreed. Tam had
had more than one bad experience in his former line of work, and he’d left that
life behind to do what he enjoyed. Good for him.

I
knew Tam wasn’t a loyalist when it came to King Sathrik Mal’Salin. I also knew
there were many in the Goblin District who shared Tam’s political leanings. And
with the king and his Khrynsani in town, it was healthier to keep those
leanings to yourself. The politics of Tam the business owner was that if it was
good for business, he was in favor of it. I couldn’t see the Khrynsani being
good for anyone’s business, except possibly an assassin or an undertaker. I
wasn’t so sure about the politics of a primaru and former member of the
Mal’Salin family, but I did know I trusted him enough to ask.

I
crossed Heron Row a block down from Tam’s place and stopped. Sirens was closed
during the day, but apparently that didn’t stop Tam from having visitors.

This
wasn’t just any visitor. I knew this lady. Or at least knew of her.

Primari
A’Zahra Nuru had a direct connection to, and the ear of, the Mal’Salin family.

The
primari, or shamaness of the royal blood, had taught the goblin queen mother,
as well as the late queen. She had also been Tam’s teacher and mentor. When
Sathrik, the queen’s eldest son, took the throne after his mother’s sudden
death, he encouraged Primari Nuru to retire. He provided her with a modest
house and annual income in Mermeia, far removed from the goblin court. It
seemed the new king didn’t want his dead mother’s tutor underfoot. Hardly
unexpected considering A’Zahra Nuru’s rumored abilities and Sathrik’s recent
activities, most notably the questionable circumstances of his mother’s death.

Primari
A’Zahra Nuru was hardly retired. According to Markus, she was Prince Chigaru
Mal’Salin’s most trusted advisor. And now here she was visiting Tam. Chigaru’s
retainers had taken on King Sathrik’s Khrynsani guards in Nigel’s garden last
night. A’Zahra Nuru drops in on her former student this morning. The odds were
against a coincidence. If I wanted answers, it looked like I had come to the
right place.

The
diminutive goblin wore a simple gown of pale mauve silk, and her silvery white
hair was elaborately styled and held in place with tiny, jeweled pins. More
pale gems glittered on the lobes of her upswept ears. As with Tarsilia, the
years had been kind to A’Zahra Nuru. Her pale gray skin was still smooth over
high cheekbones and fine features.

The
primari must have wanted to see Tam very badly to be out on a bright, sunny
morning. Goblins were mainly nocturnal, by preference bordering on necessity.
They could be out during the day, but their dark eyes were painfully sensitive
to sunlight, and most chose to just remain inside. Shops and businesses in the
Goblin District were open during the day, but kept extended hours in the evening
for the convenience and comfort of their clientele. During the day, the windows
were kept shuttered and the interiors dimly lit. Any human or elven customers
had to make do the best they could. If goblins ventured out during the day,
they wore dark-lensed spectacles. A’Zahra Nuru wore a stylish pair of these
perched on the bridge of her patrician nose.

The
amulet tingled in the center of my chest, and I had the sensation that someone
had just woken up from a long nap. It knew something I didn’t, and I suspected
the goblin primari had everything to do with it. She hadn’t hesitated in her
progress down Heron Row, but I knew that she had sensed me, the amulet, or
both. My hand instinctively went to the disk, and I pulled farther back into
the shadows of a side street. What she was using weren’t shields. It was a
searching spell, completely silent and more complex than anything I could have
attempted, let alone pulled off. It spread toward me like surface ripples on a
pool.

Sensing
something that subtle was another first for me.

I
didn’t try to stop it. I knew better. A block or deflection would have
announced my presence like slamming a door in Nuru’s patrician face. My stomach
fluttered as the spell flowed through me. The primari hesitated a fraction of a
second, then continued on her way. I continued breathing again. The amulet was
proving to be as good a watchdog as it was a nuisance. But just because it
growled at strangers didn’t mean I was going to trust it with my own neck.

I
waited until the primari was well down Heron Row before crossing the street to
Sirens’ front door.

Tam’s
bouncers weren’t on duty, but Tam’s wards certainly were. And they were at full
power. Tam’s wards at half-strength were something to behold, full power would
take care of anything short of a magical tidal wave. It looked like a certain
goblin primaru was feeling a little insecure this morning, and I was willing to
bet that insecurity started last night and intensified with his mentor’s visit
this morning.