Three
Zidra
Something smelled wrong.
I lingered near an arch, the looming curve of mossy stone all that remained of the southern wall of Castle Grivolen. Jagged half-collapsed parapets, walls, and towers formed black silhouettes against the starry sky. It looked as dark and eerie as its cursed history. Meeting at the former seat of the Wyveri Kingdom would not have been my first choice, and the site reeked of illicit activities.
After circling the ruins as a wyvern and not seeing anyone, I’d landed. Even from the air, the smell had been offensive, and I’d shifted back to my di’ora in part to lessen my sense of smell. Traces of pipe smoke, strong drink, incense, mind-altering flowers and mushrooms, refuse, blood, and other pungent odors stung my nostrils. Humans, elves, and shifters had all been here within the last several days, as had fire-foxes and other animals.
With all those scents, it was impossible to determine if anyone was in the ruins. My hearing gave no clues, either. My mysterious contact could be inside alone, have failed to show up again, or be hiding in the shelter of a tree with a small contingent of attackers.
I hated going into a situation unprepared.
That had to be the cause of the tightness in my stomach. Right? Sure, something seemed off with the informant not appearing at the tavern and then asking to meet tonight of all nights at Grivolen of all places. But I couldn’t leave.
With Magistrate Malvoy’s lack of cooperation, this informant might be my last chance to find the truth. For all I knew, Malvoy himself was the murderer. Nevros deserved justice, and allowing a killer to roam free violated my vows to protect the empire. Worse, if I fled like a coward, I wouldn’t deserve the medallion stuffed in my pack back at the Haven.
The thought of the Merit and the humiliation of earning it only because Kyrundar had tangled our fortunes strengthened my resolve. I would prove I was worthy of the Merit and that I didn’t need anyone’s patronizing aid to be an esteemed rengir.
I shifted my eyes to their wyvern form. The darkness lightened, tinged with red. Rocks, shrubs, and discarded wineskins and pottery shards littered the grounds. A frown pulled at my mouth. The ruins had been left as a warning but had become a harbor for new wickedness and carelessness. This wouldn’t do. I’ll speak to the governor about this tomorrow .
For now, I had an informant to find.
I drew my sword, reassured by its heft in my grip. As a rengir, I was bound by my oath to never harm innocents, never attack first without reasonable cause, and never kill except in self-defense or when absolutely necessary, but that didn’t mean I shouldn’t be prepared. A few seconds wasted drawing a weapon could be the difference between life and death.
Grass rustled beneath my boots as I stepped through the archway. Every step slow and purposeful, I stalked through the skeletal ruins.
A scent tickled my nose, stronger now. A person—I didn’t know how to describe the subtle differences between a person and an animal, but I could tell. The scent was definitely a person. The source was too weak and my sense of smell too overwhelmed for me to pick out human, elf, or shifter, but someone was getting closer. The problem was, the scent was coming from outside the ruins.
Perhaps I’d beaten my informant here.
I backtracked to the arch and stood in the shadows.
The swishing scrape of ice accompanied the clear, clean scent of snow magic. An ice elf? My informant couldn’t be Kyrundar. That wouldn’t make any sense. Nor would Kyrundar be visiting Castle Grivolen alone when he could be reveling with a horde of adoring rengiri. Right?
Just outside the ruins, the ice elf skated to a stop in a swirl of tiny ice crystals, and my suspicions were realized.
Locking a growl behind my teeth, I stepped past the arch. “Ilifir. What under Iskyr’s great sky are you doing here? ”
“Good to see you, too,” he mumbled. “I was worried about you. You’re all right?”
“Of course I am! How did you find me, anyway?” He opened his mouth to answer, but I waved away his response. “Actually, it doesn’t matter. You need to go before—”
“Who are you meeting?”
“Someone who claims to have information on a murder.” Internally, I cringed. Why had I told him that much? I wanted to do this alone. “I was just going to look for them, and I won’t have you scaring them away. Shoo.”
“Why would they want to meet here? Now? Zee, I feel strongly unsettled in my spirit about this.”
That gave me pause. While I wouldn’t rank Kyrundar as the most pious person I knew, he was still devout, and everyone knew that when a member of a holy order felt a strong leading or premonition about something, you listened. Iskyr could guide and warn all people, but especially those who had dedicated their lives to his service. Between Kyrundar’s unease and my own, perhaps I should abandon this meeting.
Kyrundar stepped forward. Weak moonlight glinted on the hilts of the two swords strapped to his back and glittered on the aquamarines dangling from his ears. “Let me come with you.”
I huffed a dry laugh. “Oh, I see. You haven’t had a premonition. You just want to steal my victory again.”
He frowned. “I don’t steal your victories. I’ve never once claimed sole credit for anything we did together, and I’ve certainly never taken credit for anything you did on your own.”
“No, you just insist on attaching your name to mine every chance you get.” I bit back my theory that he was responsible for that awful Kyrmaris moniker. “I don’t have time for this. My informant has already missed one meeting.”
“And missing a meeting then calling another here isn’t suspicious?”
I hesitated, unwilling to confess I shared his misgivings. “Someone with political power might be behind the murder I’m investigating. Whoever this witness is, he or she is afraid of being seen. They’re skittish, and—”
“Then I’m definitely coming with you. I can help.” Kyrundar walked past me into the ruins, sending tendrils of ice ahead of him along the ground. The magic’s faint pale-blue glow illuminated his path.
Help, right. That’s what my mother had claimed every time she’d tried to force me into her perception of wyveri greatness or criticized my choices. I’m helping you. It’s for your own good.
A growl rumbled in my chest as my dragon fire stirred. I shoved it down and strode after him. “How, exactly?”
“I’m a more reassuring presence and better with people than you are.” He flashed a winsome smile as if he hadn’t just insulted me.
He was right, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t offended.
“Fine, but only because I’m done wasting time. Be quiet and stay out of my way for once. ”
“Oh please. When have I ever gotten in your way?”
No occasions jumped to mind, but I refused to admit that. “We don’t have time to make a list.”
Kyrundar chuckled. “You can’t think of any instances because we’re a great team.”
“Oh, hush.” I tromped past him, then realized I was making too much noise and softened my steps.
We slunk through the looming ruins, nothing but the occasional bird cry and the whisper of vegetation in the wind disrupting the silence.
My skin prickled, and I hated that I wasn’t sure if it was because of the irritating man at my side, the eeriness of Grivolen, or a premonition.
A new smell snagged my attention, and I held out my hand to halt the ice elf. A person…or people? The scent was weak amid the general stench. The whiff of elf might just be Kyrundar. I closed my eyes and took a deeper breath through my nose. Definitely at least one human, somewhere ahead of us. I concentrated on my hearing.
“Someone is ahead,” I murmured, my eyes still closed. “Possibly multiple people. Sounds of breathing are muffled, like they’re behind something.” If I shifted, I might be able to get a better reading, but the remaining walls were a little close for my di’yar. Besides, my sense of smell would improve with terrible consequences. I’d be trying to get the reek of this place out of my nose for days.
The soft rasp of steel against leather indicated Kyrundar drawing his swords.
I opened my eyes. “They might not be hostile. ”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Is that why you have your sword out?”
I didn’t dignify that with a response. “Just—”
“Stay out of your way?”
If I detected a little hurt in his tone, I ignored it. Following the scents and sounds, I padded around a mostly intact wall and proceeded toward a low, square barrier. At one point, it must have been a smaller outbuilding. The scents became stronger, and I definitely heard at least three breathing patterns, but I still couldn’t see anyone. That was impossible—
Something moved ahead, and I swung my sword up into guard. A figure emerged from the ground. The human woman wrung her hands and took a step closer.
“Zidra Eilmaris? Is that you? Who is with you?”
“I’m Zidra. Kyrundar Ilifir is with me.”
The woman stiffened and eased back a step. “We know we can trust you, but can we trust him?”
I could practically feel Kyrundar bristling like a porcupine at my side. “We’re Kyrmaris,” he protested. “Co-recipients of the Emperor’s Merit! If you trust her, you can trust me.”
There were so many aggravating things about that pronouncement, but I stifled my reaction and focused on the woman. “You’re not alone, either. Who is with you?”
“Other witnesses. We’re terrified for our lives.” She pointed behind her and down. “They’re in the old root cellar.”
Underground. The thick dirt explained why I struggled to smell or hear them. I resisted the urge to fidget. I couldn’t shift in a root cellar if this turned into a fight.
I turned to Kyrundar. “Keep watch up here. Don’t interrupt unless I call for you, all right?”
His expression soured, but he nodded.
“What’s your name?” I asked as I approached the woman.
“Jida. Are you going to sheathe your sword?”
My steps faltered. Sheathe my weapon and lose precious seconds if this was a trap? Or leave it out and risk panicking skittish informants into running, or worse, attacking?
“Right. Sorry. Rengir habit.” I slid the blade into the sheath with a twinge of regret and followed the woman through a black hole into the ground.