"Where's the body?"

"Caleb took her into the kitchen," Leesil answered. "I didn't have the heart to tell him no."

"Why don't you ask them what happened," Brenden said, his arms crossed, "before you start looking for 'clues' for something you know nothing about."

"What's he doing here?" Ellinwood demanded.

"I invited him," Leesil answered in a half-truth.

Up to this point, Magiere had drifted closer to the fireplace and simply stood by watching and listening. Now she turned away from all three men.

Leesil experienced a wave of pity followed by concern. He had many unanswered questions regarding Magiere, but those could wait until a better time. She was dealing with too much already in too short a space of time. They all were, for that matter. And as much as he wanted answers, he didn't want to see her pushed over the edge any further.

"You start, Leesil," she said softly. "Just tell him what you saw."

Leesil began recounting everything as clearly as possible. For the most part, it sounded like little more than a vicious thief interrupted during a botched robbery-except for the quarrel the beggar boy had pulled out of his own forehead. Strangely enough, Ellinwood did not react to this with more than a raised eyebrow. Then Leesil reached the part where Beth-rae ran in from the kitchen.

"She threw a bucket of water all over him, and he began to smoke."

"Smoke?" Ellinwood said, shifting his heavy weight to one foot. "What do you mean?"

"His skin turned black and began to smoke."

"Garlic water," Brenden interrupted. "It's poison to vampires."

The constable ignored him.

Leesil grew more suspicious. He still didn't accept the idea of vampires, and hadn't actually said or implied any such thing, yet the details were there. Ellinwood did not appear even slightly shocked, neither denying nor accepting Brenden's implied conclusion. Leesil held that thought to himself for the moment.

"Then what happened?" Ellinwood asked.

"He rushed her, struck her, tearing her throat with his fingernails, and breaking her neck," Leesil continued. "Then he escaped through the back door in the kitchen."

A few more questions and answers followed, all of a similar matter-of-fact and what-happened-next nature, each of which led to no further real exchange of useful information. The constable was casual, almost bored, and always slow to ask his next question. Somewhere along the way, Leesil noted that Ellinwood had not asked about any motivation for the intrusion. The concept of burglary or theft had not even come up. Not that it should have, since it was obviously not a burglary, but the constable hadn't even tried to pass it off as such. When Leesil described the intruder, he did note that Ellinwood fidgeted slightly before resettling into complacency.

It was then Leesil decided he would keep the issue of the dagger to himself. Ellinwood's disinterest was obvious. He was playing his role and giving lip service to his duties-and he was hiding something. Why this was so, Leesil couldn't yet tell, but the dagger might be more useful in his possession than handed over to be stowed away and forgotten.

The constable turned to Magiere.

"And while all this was going on, you were attacked upstairs?" he asked.

"Yes," she managed to answer. She turned and looked directly at Ellinwood as she spoke. "He was very tall and striking, with dark hair close cropped and nearly clear eyes with a tint of blue. He was dressed as a nobleman in a deep blue tunic, cloak, and high boots. And he carried a long sword, which he used as if trained and experienced in combat."

Magiere continued, trying hard to remember more details of her assailant. His expressions and manner of superiority, the way he moved, the way he spoke. Slowly, the constable appeared less bored. His complexion shifted and began turning paler, until his flesh had a sickly white cast to it. Brenden, however, added more wrinkles to his brow, eyes narrowing as if he were trying to focus Magiere's description in his mind and recognition was beginning to settle upon him.

Leesil began to see that Magiere, as well, had caught the fact that Ellinwood had lost his disinterest. And now he looked openly nervous. Magiere grew more intent, turning to questions instead of answers.

"How many men in this town can that describe?" she asked. "I don't know why that didn't occur to me until now. You must know everyone here, yes? This one was dressed too well for a common ruffian looking for some quick coins in his pocket."

"He owns Miiska's largest warehouse," Brenden answered softly. "I don't know his name, but I've seen-"

"Quiet!" Ellinwood shouted at the blacksmith in a voice that squeaked with strain, surprising them all. "Keep your foolish conclusions to yourself. There are hundreds of tall, dark-haired men in this town and new ones come in port every day."

"Hundreds?" Leesil asked, mockingly.

Ellinwood ignored the goad, focusing on Brenden.

"I'll not accuse a respected businessman just to please you!"

"You're a coward," Brenden said, more in resignation than anger. "I can't believe what a coward you are."

"Quiet, both of you!" Magiere snapped, looking more like the caustic tiger Leesil remembered as she stepped between the constable and the blacksmith. Ellinwood backed away, scowling, trying to maintain an air of righteous indignation, but Magiere didn't even notice.

"I'm not reporting this because I expect or desire any help," she said to him. "I'm only behaving like a law-abiding citizen. If you want no part of this, you're free to go back to your guardhouse or breakfast or whatever else you do with your mornings." She turned to Brenden. "And no one asked for your counsel, blacksmith."

Ellinwood made no move to continue his investigation, neither inspecting the room nor making any pretense to go survey the body or the second level of the inn. Leesil began to think it was likely that the constable didn't need to do any of those things. The repulsive man probably knew much more than anyone else in this room. Beating the truth out of him was somewhat tempting, but would only add to their troubles. At least for now.

The constable puffed his cheeks out, attempting to gain control of the situation.

"I'll have my men do a sweep of the town, looking for anyone matching the descriptions you've provided. You'll be informed if anything is discovered."

"Yes, you do that," Magiere said in dismissal.

After the constable left, the three remaining occupants in the room stood looking at each other.

"I seriously doubt we'll hear anything," Leesil said. "Or at least we won't be the first."

Brenden merely grunted in agreement.

Several tables lay in broken heaps around them, and Leesil remembered they would have to replace Magiere's bedroom door and window. For the time being, he would settle her in his own room, and then bed down himself on the bar or by the fireplace.

"It's not over. We have to hunt them down ourselves," Brenden said to Magiere. "You know that, don't you?"

Oh, by everything holy, was he mad? Annoyance, possibly more than annoyance, hit Leesil for the first time.

"Just leave that alone!" Leesil half shouted before controlling himself. "She's had enough already for one day."

"I know," Magiere answered in a whisper, ignoring Leesil's outburst. "I know."

Ratboy believed that vampires fell dormant during the day, like inverted plants or flowers. Of course, he kept this opinion to himself, and would never relate such a fanciful thought in front of Rashed or Teesha.

As the sun rose, he always collapsed into dreamless sleep. But not today. Today.

How long since he'd even considered a term with the word "day" in it? He could not remember. Lying in his coffin, in the dirt of his homeland, deep in the tunnels under the warehouse, he could not sleep. His body still burned from the garlic water, even though Teesha had fed him, and his spirit burned from Rashed's harsh words.