The Elements of Sorcery (3 page)

"So you had no idea what this place was until you hurled me across the room?"

"Precisely." His lips split in a grimace that showed glittering white teeth. "Now, take me to the body."

"Do I at least get an introduction first?" I asked, regretting the words and their flippant tone the instant they passed my lips.

He brushed by me, the scent of stale musk and another, stranger odor that I could not immediately identify tickling my nose in the breeze of his wake. "My name is D'Arden Tal. You are Edar Moncrief. You are going to help me find a murderer."

Where else does one go when confronted with a mystery? We returned to the scene of the crime. Or, at least, the scene where I'd discovered the Arbiter's body – the dingy alley filled with the smell of filthy clothing, human sweat and offal.

Gaerton's body was not where I'd found it, of course, having been moved by the city guardsmen some hours earlier. It didn't take us long to find it, though. It hadn't gone far. Instead of lying in the middle of the street, it was now wedged in the narrow opening between two closely-built structures, along with a pile of refuse dating back weeks, and any number of odds and ends that had simply been disposed of. The reek was powerful, and I was forced to cover my nose with the neckline of my robe to filter out some of the stench. I was only marginally successful in my attempts to ease my breathing.

The Arbiter, Tal, seemed unfazed by the smell. He simply stared at the broken and discarded body of the man who'd been his friend, and there was a kind of melancholy around him. It didn't show on his face, or in his body language – both of those were stoic, impenetrable – but seemed almost to shimmer in the air surrounding him.

At last, he looked up, and gazed at me. "Was he wearing his sword when you found him?"

I shook my head. "The scabbard was empty."

"I see."

"Does that mean something?"

"Possibly."

There was a long pause, and both of us were silent.

At length, he spoke again. "Something is strange. It is… rare for any member of my Order to leave behind a corpse."

"That certainly explains why I've never seen a book regarding an Arbiter's autopsy," I said, the words tumbling blithely from my lips before I'd even realized they were there. He turned a stony gaze on me, and I went on hastily, "but what are the circumstances in which they do?"

Tal frowned, lines furrowing deep in his brow and around his eyes. At first glance, he looked to be about thirty years old, but in that moment, I got a sense of much greater age behind those glittering eyes. "I cannot think of any."

"You can heal yourselves, correct?" I asked. "That's why it's so rare for a corpse to be left behind. Enough damage would have to be done to overwhelm your ability to self-heal."

He nodded, a bit reluctantly, as though I were dragging diamonds from between his teeth.

I tapped my stubbled chin with two fingers as I considered. "Then something must have robbed him of his power before killing him. It's the only plausible explanation."

"Is there a manna font in this city?" he asked abruptly, casting a look at the alleys around us.

"Several, why?"

"I will need to consult with one."

My left eyebrow elevated. "Consult?"

"It's difficult to explain," he said. "Where is the nearest one?"

I pointed down another alley which led toward the city center. "That way, I believe, but as far as I know, they're all boarded up. You'll have a hell of a time getting inside the chapel."

He barely acknowledged me, but leapt into motion, purposeful strides carrying him down the side streets in the direction I'd pointed. It was all I could do to hike up my robes a bit above my ankles and hurry after him, trying desperately not to trip and fall on my face. I'm certain I looked quite the fool, scurrying down the filthy alleys, clutching my robes in my fingers like a noblewoman hurrying down a steep flight of stairs, but I couldn't afford to lose sight of him now.

There were few things in this world which could simply drain the life out of a normal person, much less suck an Arbiter dry. It would have to be something phenomenally bad. There were a few theories which sprang immediately to mind, but I was huffing so hard from the exertion that I couldn't actually raise my voice enough for Tal to hear me. Lab work isn't exactly the most aerobic vocation.

He drew to a halt outside a small, white stone building which looked entirely out of place among the angular, thatched-roof houses of the neighborhood we were in. This was one of the more populated sub-streets, and I could feel the eyes of the passersby on us as they slowed to gawk at the strange man in drab clothing and the silly sorcerer waddling along behind, trying not to trip over the hem of his robes. The peasants loved to gawk more than anything, except perhaps gossip. It was the little things that lightened up their dreary, desperate and ultimately fruitless lives. I was certain to be the talk of the town before nightfall, which would probably do good things for my business, if not my reputation.

The font chapel was indeed boarded up, and the Arbiter stared at the wooden planks nailed two deep across the entrance as though it were a venomous snake.

"You don't need to get inside, do you?" I asked hesitantly.

He glowered at the barrier. "No. I can see from here."

Inwardly, I sighed with relief. If he'd gone barreling through those wooden planks we'd have had much bigger problems, when the gathering crowd, exposed to the light of the manna, would have gone stark raving mad at best. Instead he just continued to stare at it, gazing through it, at what I couldn't be exactly sure. None but the Arbiters had ever truly laid eyes on a manna font, and those mortals who dared did not often have a story to tell afterward.

Something was nagging at me, and I paused a moment to consider, while the Arbiter was staring through the slats. The dead Arbiter, Daen, had been missing his sword. Who in their right mind would steal a crystal sword – something only carried by some of the deadliest men in the world – off a body? Where would it have ended up?

I didn't know the answer to the first, but the second question only had one answer.

Finally, he turned to me. "Whoever did this must be a visitor to this town. There is no trace of them in the flow."

"Then I suppose we'll have to do things the old-fashioned way," I said, allowing a grin to creep over my face. "Come with me. There's someone we should talk to."

We crossed town from one run-down district, through the center square, to another neighborhood worse than the first. Twilight had passed hours ago, and the streets were dark, save for the occasional lamplight shining from a doorway or the slats of a shuttered window.

The dead Arbiter had been missing his sword. An artifact like that, if it had been obtained by some enterprising citizen looking to make a few coins, would have made its way to just one person. There was only one person who'd dare to run in the circles that might buy something like a crystal sword.

And I knew where he lived.

Jahain Torthanas was a fence, and a particularly savvy one, at that. He'd had his hands on things most people had never heard of – I'd bought more than one book from his black market. He kept the city guard well supplied with rare vintages of wine and spirits, paid his bribes like any good citizen, and they mostly left him alone.

Even well after dark, there were still unsavory characters lingering in doorways and lurking in alleys as we passed through. Visiting Torthanas wasn't something I cared to do often, and once more I was glad to have the hulking form of the Arbiter close at my shoulder, despite what it might do to my reputation. I would probably pay for it later, but for now it made me feel somewhat less like I was going to get a knife in the back for my meager coins.

I turned down one alley after carefully counting the stones between one building and the next. Most buildings had six paving stones in the gaps between their outer walls, but this time I'd counted seven. This was where Torthanas made his home.

The outside of the buildings were rotten and looked as though they might collapse if someone were to sneeze on them. We approached a door that seemed to be hanging off its hinges, but I knew it to be sturdy enough. Dim orange light flickered from within, dancing around the edges of the frame. I lifted my hand and rapped twice, hard, and then once more.

"Who is it?" a rough, accented voice came from within.

"Why, Merilee, it's your cousin Jago, come back from the war," I said, my voice rising into a high falsetto.

The Arbiter arched an eyebrow at me. I shrugged.

"Jus' a minute." There was some rattling at the door, and then it opened. Large, bug-eyes above a bulbous nose and beneath a mop of dark hair peered out at me. "Oh, it's you, Eddy. Whaddaya want at this hour?"

My mouth opened so I could speak – even as I rolled my eyes at the hideous butchery of my given name – but Torthanas' gaze slid past me and landed on the Arbiter. He drew in a ragged breath that sounded like a fish trying to breathe smoke, and his eyes went round as saucers, showing the whites all around.

He tried to slam the door on me, but I'd managed to get my foot wedged into the frame. The wood crushed my foot and I sucked in a breath as pain flared, but he wasn't able to get it closed again, for which I was grateful.

"Come on now, Janny," I said, trying to keep my tone reasonable despite the fact that the bones in my foot felt as though they were about to be ground into dust. It took an enormous amount of effort, but I managed. "We just want to talk."

"Talk, my arse!" he squealed, trying again – unsuccessfully – to close the door on my foot. "That's a damned
Arbiter
out there! He gonna cut my heart out sure as the sun gonna come up tomorrow! They don' be askin' no questions!"

"Look, Janny, he doesn't care about your smuggling operations," I said. "That's not his job. We're just looking for something, and I knew you were the man to come to see. You're always the man to see when I'm looking for something, aren't you?"

The piggish man paused briefly in his frantic attempts to shut us out. "Yeah… yeah, I s'pose you're right..."

"I’d never dream of going anywhere else when I’m looking for something," I continued, my voice low and soothing, like I was trying to calm a spooked horse. "You’re always the guy to see. Nobody’s here to cut your heart out, Janny – you’ve got my word on that."

Fortunately, Jahain Torthanas was not what one might consider 'bright'. He squinted out at me for a long moment, and then pulled the door open slightly. "Well… c'mon in, then. I'll tell you whatever I can. Maybe find what you're looking for."

Trying not to limp on my aching foot, we entered the fence's house. He closed the door behind us after looking carefully in each direction.

Every time I visited Torthanas, the contrast between the inside of the building and the outside nearly took my breath away, and this time was no different. Behind that ramshackle exterior was one of the most lavish houses the Old Bitch kept within her walls. Exotic tapestries hung on the walls, there were tables made of solid oak and rich, black ebony. On many of those tables, countless assorted items were carefully laid out, from bottles to coins, leather goods and books, weaponry and even the occasional piece of armor, most of it outlandish and strangely-styled.

"Get ya a drink, Eddy?" he asked me; I gritted my teeth once again at the diminutive of my name.

"I'm fine, Janny… thanks," I said, waving a hand. "My friend here and I are just trying to find a particular item."

"I got all kinds," Torthanas said. "Whatcha lookin' for?"

"A crystal sword," I answered, keeping a conversational tone. "Seen anything like that?"

"You mean like the one your 'friend' 'ere keeps on 'is back?"

"That's the one."

The Arbiter had remained curiously silent throughout this exchange, and I snuck a glance at him. He seemed to be watching me with detached interest, the way I might watch a captive insect as it struggled to free itself. A little shudder ran down my spine, and I turned my attention back to the fence.

Torthanas was looking down at the floor, scuffing one foot like a scolded child. "I ain't seen nothin' like that come through here."

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"'Course I'm sure!" he expostulated. "Where would I 'ave gotten somethin' like that?"

I leaned down a bit in a conspiratorial fashion. As I suspected he would, the fence leaned in closer to listen, and I had to suppress a smile. "Someone
killed
an Arbiter," I whispered.

"Killed?" Torthanas gulped. "But… but that's…"

"Impossible," I confirmed with a serious nod. "I know. I saw it with my own eyes, Janny. I found the body in the street."

"That's… that's just…" the fence trailed off and wrung his hands together nervously. "Well, you wastin' yer time here anyway. Ain't seen nothin' like that through here. Sorry, Eddy."

"Oh." I looked down, feigning disappointment. The little rat was lying to me, I could feel it. "Do you mind if I take a quick look at your books while I'm here? Have you gotten in anything new?"

"Well, uh…" Torthanas squirmed some more, but I knew he couldn't turn down the possibility of a sale, no matter how nervous he was. "Yeah, but be quick about it. It's gettin' late."

I shot a glance at the Arbiter, who still wore that distantly-amused expression – I found it infuriating. With a false air of casualness, I began to browse the books that Torthanas had laid out on the table.

He kept a secret stash in the back room – I knew that he did, because he'd gotten something for me from it one day. If he had the crystal sword, it was almost certainly going to be back there, but I wasn't sure how to get it without alerting him to the fact that I knew he was lying. Barging through his house wasn't the best idea – I was going to need something from him, sooner or later, and I didn't want to burn any bridges.

Tal followed me as I perused Torthanas' goods – there wasn't anything I hadn't already seen and passed over, but I continued to feign interest, picking up one leather-bound tome and flipping through its yellow pages.

The fence seemed to get more and more nervous as time went by, but he didn't say anything more. At last, he took a nervous step toward us and said, "Uh… got to check on somethin' in the kitchen. Right back with ya… don't ya be stealin' anything now, Eddy…"

"Take your time, Janny," I answered, with a bored wave of my hand.

Once the fence was gone, I leaned over toward Tal. "He's lying. About the sword, I mean."

"Of course he's lying," he answered. "The question is: what are you going to do about it?"

I never got a chance to answer. Right about then, two huge men, both holding bared steel broadswords, stepped into the room from behind one of the many hanging curtains; it must have concealed a doorway. Torthanas had called in his muscle to get rid of the unwanted visitors.

With a sigh, I shook my head and folded my arms at the two men. "You here to see Janny?"

"Shut up, sorcerer," one of them, a broad-shouldered man with no hair and an ugly scar across his nose, said. "Torthanas wants you gone, and he wants you gone now."

"I'm one of his best customers," I protested, making an underhanded gesture toward the Arbiter, hoping that he would do something about this. "There might be something here I want to buy."

"He says you ain't buying nothin' tonight," the scarred man rumbled. "Get lost, or we get you lost."

"All right, all right." I held up my hands in mock surrender. "We'll go."

They lowered their swords, and in that instant, the Arbiter sprang into action. The sword on his back seemed to teleport into his hand as he leapt forward, swinging it in an arc before him with a dancer's grace. The two thugs brought up their blades in defense; the Arbiter's crystal sword struck one of them, sending it spinning across the room to land on the floor near the door to the outside. His foot snapped up as the other sword swung at him – a slow, clumsy movement that looked as though it were moving through molasses in comparison. The Arbiter's boot caught the hilt of the attacker's sword, jarring the hand beneath, and the second thug dropped his blade from numb fingers.

Two more swift, sharp movements incapacitated both thugs by twisting an arm up behind their backs in what looked like a most unpleasant fashion, and then the Arbiter smashed their ugly heads together with a deep, hollow sound. They collapsed to the floor together, eyes rolled back into their heads.

"Get the fence!" I hissed. "He'll try to make a break for it!"

The Arbiter didn't even glance my way, but instead sprinted through the doorway Torthanas had disappeared into. I started to follow, but only a few seconds later, he dragged the fat little man back into the main room kicking and screaming and hollering bloody murder. It was quite a sight, and I couldn't suppress a smile that time.

"The sword, Janny. Where is it?"

"I told you, I ain't seen no…" the fence trailed off as he found the glittering blue crystal of Tal's sword hovering beneath his throat. He swallowed hard, and I swear he pissed himself in that moment. "Okay… okay. It's in the back. I ain't sold it yet… nobody wants to buy a thing like that, but now I'm stuck with it. You take it, Eddy… no charge."

"Good man," I said.

It didn't take long for Torthanas to give me precise instructions for retrieving the crystal sword from the locked cabinet in his back room. As I pulled it free from the hooks on which it hung, I studied the semi-translucent blade. It seemed to be a single piece of crystal, unique in its formation, with odd angles and protrusions as it slowly narrowed to a razor-sharp point. The blade was attached to a modest hilt, which sported no quillons to guard the Arbiter's hands in combat, that was built around the thinnest part of the crystal. It was entirely dark, an inert blue color that showed no glimmer of power within it.

Wrapping the sword in a fold of my robe, I returned to the main room, where the Arbiter was amusing himself by waving his own glowing blade in front of the fence's eyes and watching the fat man's reactions. "Where'd you get the sword, Janny?"

He was reluctant, but it didn't take much convincing. "A few guys met me at the White Orchid four nights ago. They had it, wanted to sell it. I told 'em I'd buy it, but that's before I knew what it was."

The story sounded plausible enough. It was, at least, a lead to follow. "Good enough," I said. "Come on, Arbiter. Let's go."

Tal released the fence and we walked toward the outer door. Just as we were about to open it and head back into the night, Torthanas got up the guts to call out, "And don't you ever come back here, Edar Moncrief!"

I spun on my heel, glaring balefully at the little man. He shrank back slightly, but his face remained firm. That is, until I hissed, "I'll be back whenever I damn well feel like it, Jahain. If you try to stop me, the Arbiter here is going to have words with you. Understand?"

What little defiance remained in the fence melted away, and he nodded feebly. I turned away once more, sweeping out the door and into the street.

"I'll be moving on once this is solved," Tal murmured.

"I know," I answered, handing him the crystal blade. "But he doesn't."

He slid the sword beneath the baldric that circled his torso, crossing the other scabbard on his back. "We found Daen's manna sword, but that still doesn't answer the real question. Who killed him? You haven't gotten us any closer, sorcerer." The Arbiter's voice was low, but carried a note of danger in it enough to make me swallow hard.

"Give me time, give me time," I said. "He gave us something, at least. The White Orchid. I should have thought of that first."

"What's that?"

A grin played on my lips. "Quite the experience, actually. Come on."