Part 18 (2/2)
”Preserved?”
”More or less. Tiamaris has done some time with the Hawks, and he's the one running the morgue. He doesn't have a staff of consulting mages, though.”
”That's probably an advantage,” was the curt reply. Red began to pack his things, and Kaylin obligingly carried the bag into which he was dropping them. ”I won't have much time,” he said as he slid scalpels of varying widths into their leather cases.
”You're expecting a corpse here?”
”If they can find him, yes. Some people are holding out hope that if we do, he won't be a corpse.”
”Who?”
”I don't know his name,” was the serious and quiet reply. ”But he is-or was-a key witness in the Exchequer investigation.”
”Any reason you're betting on a corpse?”
”Yeah. What was left of his home wasn't pretty. It was magically demolished, but the trace was contaminated.”
”How?”
”He was a mage, of sorts. Most of the strong signatures are his.”
”He didn't destroy his own home.”
”He could have. Doesn't seem sane or likely. But, well. Mage.”
”And if I ask how a mage was involved in the investigation as a witness-”
”Don't. Let's just say he was a junior Arcanist and leave it at that. You can bother Ironjaw if you're feeling suicidal, but it's not going to get you any answers. Until he calls you in-and I think we could have used you for the on-site investigation of the wreckage-it's locked down.” He finished his cursory inspection of his traveling gear, and nodded. ”You'll be here in the morning?”
”On time, even. Promise.”
”Good. I'd bet on it, but at the moment, the office betting pools are being neglected. Anything else?”
”No.”
”Yes,” Severn said. ”Not a corpse.”
”Good. A little variety never hurt anyone. What is it?”
Reaching into his pouch, Severn pulled out the swatches of cloth he'd cut from six of the dresses; the seventh piece was in the Imperial Library under the Arkon's ferocious glare. Red frowned and held out a hand. ”These are from what?”
”Dresses. Seven identical dresses, or as near to identical as they could be, given external factors.”
”This is silk,” Red said. ”But the color-”
Severn nodded as Red fished out a jeweler's gla.s.s. He barked a single word and the lights in the room brightened. ”You want me to figure out how it's dyed?”
”Yes. That might tell us where it was dyed; I don't think the color is all that common.”
”I'll see what I can do-I'm not sure I'll have what you need for tomorrow; it depends on what happens for the rest of the day. Or night.”
”Night?” Kaylin's voice rose slightly.
”I'm on call.”
”Since when?”
Red looked down at her. ”Since the investigation into the Exchequer was blown by your theoretical fraud on Elani. It's gotten uglier by the minute, and I'm not sure the Halls are going to drag themselves out of this mess smelling like roses. But at the moment, I'm free. You want to watch?”
Kaylin did. But she also wanted to sleep. ”I did say I would get here first thing in the morning, and on time.”
He chuckled. It was a weary chuckle but it would do.
Severn volunteered to walk Kaylin home. In and of itself, that wasn't unusual. She expected him to bring up Nightshade, but he was kind. He didn't. He didn't speak much at all, but it wasn't a cold or hostile silence. When they reached her room, she crawled under the bed and retrieved the egg crate.
He watched, leaning against the wall nearest the door, a comfortable shadow in the moonlight.
”Can you check my mirror?”
”It's gray.”
”Good.” She was busy unwinding the sc.r.a.ps of fabric that she hoped kept the egg warm in her absence. Having done that, she carefully pulled the egg out of its temporary home. ”Do you-do you want to stay?”
”I don't think there's enough room in the bed for you, me, and a fragile egg,” he replied. He was smiling; she could hear it in the words, even if she couldn't see it. ”How is the egg?”
”It's-I think it's harder. Or rougher. I'm not sure.”
”You should take it to Evanton.”
”In my copious free time, I'll be sure to do that.” She began to peel off clothing; the night was cool. Tonight, because Severn was standing there, she actually folded it as neatly as she could in the dark and left it in a small standing pile near the foot of the bed. Then she curled up on her side around the egg, wrapping her arms across it just before she pulled the blankets up beneath her chin.
”I'll come by in the morning,” he said. ”With food.”
”Bracer?”
”If it's come home by now, I'll leave it. I'm tired of water stains on my furniture.”
”I promise I'll stop throwing the d.a.m.n thing into the Ablayne.”
”Don't make promises you can't keep. I'll see you in the morning.”
She drifted off even before she heard the click of the door's lock.
CHAPTER 11.
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