Chapter 6

The Burdock was a modest but clean inn, nestled in a merchant district on the south side of Bela. After council hall of elites, this suited Leesil. Magiere had paid for two small rooms next to each other, the arrangement similar to the Sea Lion's upstairs. Each room held a narrow bed, a window, a tiny side table, plus a candle for an extra copper penny. Chap wandered about Magiere's room and poked his nose through the open chest. As Leesil stood in the doorway, watching Magiere unload her belongings, a strange isolation crept over him.

Indeed, they had their own rooms at the tavern, which was pure pleasure after years of sleeping on the ground. A warm, dry bed was a luxury that never wore off, but in this little inn a new change entered Leesil's awareness.

For years on the road, they'd kept together-Magiere, Chap, and himself. On rare occasions they'd rented a room or a farmer's barn loft. They huddled in the same space to save money and maintain a sense of sanctuary in a world into which neither of them had been welcomed. At the time, he hadn't given thought to Magiere as more than a close companion and partner.

There‘ d been so much fear, hers perhaps greater than his, as they slowly discovered what little they now knew of her dhampir nature. Perhaps more apprehension came from what she didn't know of her past. In the face of that, he'd found himself wanting more from her. And now, in spite of her penny-pinching…

Magiere had acquired separate rooms.

Pulling on her hauberk, she buckled her sword belt across it, checking that the blade slipped smoothly from its sheath. She removed a brush and an extra leather hair thong from her pack and placed them on the table. It was her way now to make any space hers. He'd never realized this out on the open road, nor how important a sense of home was to her. Perhaps she wasn't aware of it herself. For Leesil, home was wherever she and Chap happened to be.

"What are you thinking?" she asked.

"That we're in over our heads, and we can't back out," he replied. "That pack of wolves on the council might share traits with village elders you've dazzled, but there are differences. They're landed gentry and wealthy merchants. Did you see their faces when we walked in?"

"Yes." She stopped to pull the chest's lid closed. "But if I think like that, I won't be able to go on."

"Then we avoid the council." He nodded, white-blond hair waving as he leaned against the doorway, reluctant to enter the room. "We go to Lanjov's, and maybe Chap picks up a scent from the dead girl's clothes. Then we start hunting. We're in the largest city in the country, and this won't be simple. We aren't trackers, but we'll have to play the part and hope for luck." He lifted his head with a narrow-lipped smile. "Maybe if we blunder along, the bloodthirsty little monster will panic and try to kill one of us. That would get things out in the open."

"You're not funny," Magiere replied. "We've done this once. We can do it again."

Leesil wanted to believe her.

In spite of her attempted confidence, Magiere was overwhelmed as they stepped through the iron front gate at Lanjov's home. Constructed of finely masoned stone, the house was easily large enough for three families back in Miiska. When they climbed the three steps to the door, she grasped the large brass knocker, then paused and glanced at Leesil.

"You need that shirt fixed. Or better, buy a new one. You look like a beggar."

"I could pretend I'm in disguise."

She glared at him and rapped the knocker against the door.

Chap sniffed the front porch in some agitation. When Magiere looked to see what had captured his interest, she noticed that, unlike the clean stone in the walkway, the mortar between the left side porch stones was dark, as if stained.

A young maid opened the door and peered out, wearing a simple muslin dress covered by a clean apron, her hair tucked completely under a white linen cap. She looked at Magiere and then Leesil, and her eyes widened with fright.

"We have an appointment with Councilman Lanjov," Magiere said quickly. "He is expecting us."

The maid nodded, half hiding behind the door as she stepped aside to let them enter.

"H-he…" she stuttered, looking at Leesil, then quickly averting her nervous eyes, "he told me to have you wait in the lower study."

She seemed even more flustered when Chap entered behind them. Leesil flashed her a smile, which only caused her skin to pale as she turned to lead them down a hall and through an open archway.

"Please sit," she managed to say, motioning to a green velvet divan, and then she fled.

"Don't smile at the help," Magiere said, settling on the divan. "They aren't used to it."

Leesil rolled his eyes. Instead of taking a seat next to her, he peered about at luxurious knickknacks and bric-a-brac carefully placed about the room. A crystal vase and a silver inkwell held his attention for a short while, and then he stopped at an antique gold candleholder on the end table next to the divan.

"Do you suppose this is genuine?" Leesil asked.

"Stop it!" she warned.

Leesil returned an innocent stare. "What?"

"I know what you're doing."

"What am I doing? I'm admiring the man's taste."

"If anything comes up missing"-she grabbed for his arm, but he stepped out of reach-"I'll stuff you in our trunk and save them the trouble of arresting you."

Before Magiere could force him to sit, a deep voice interrupted.

"How kind. I see you can appreciate some of the finer things."

Lanjov stood in the study's archway. Though he was still as freshly dressed as this afternoon, his expression was tired and worn. He'd obviously had a long day.

"I'm sorry about the evening visit," Magiere replied. "But we need to know more of what happened. Your daughter was killed on the front porch? Who found the body?"

"I did," he answered with difficulty, staring at Leesil's torn shirt. He studied Magiere's partner for a moment, and a narrow-eyed expression passed over his face that she couldn't fathom. It was most certainly time to change Leesil's look, if they were to continue dealing with the councilman and his kind. Lanjov's gaze lifted to Leesil's face, or perhaps his hair, and Magiere grew more puzzled. The councilman's observation moved back downward to where Chap sniffed at the divan's legs.

"Then you weren't home?" Magiere asked. "Where were you?"

"At the Knight's House playing cards. I came home quite late and she…" His gaze grew unfocused, until he finally closed his eyes.

Magiere waited, allowing Lanjov to compose himself. "Was anyone else at home?"

He paused in thought. "Only my cook, who also serves as housekeeper. My coachman was with me. I was unaware that my maid and my houseboy were missing. When I questioned them later, I learned that Chesna had been giving them the same midweek night off for nearly a year. I always go to the Knight's House on the same evenings."

Leesil stepped away from the candlesticks and spoke to Lanjov for the first time.

"You leave the house on the same nights, and your daughter had a habit of letting the servants off for those evenings?"

Lanjov seemed disturbed at being addressed directly by Leesil, but he tightened his jaw and nodded. "Yes, but I did not find this out until after Chesna's death."

Leesil glanced at Magiere, and she knew his mind was now busy. That was what she needed. This one connection was easy to spot, but he often picked up on things she didn't.

"We'll need to speak with the servants," Magiere said quietly.

"Why?" Lanjov was back on his guard. "I've told you everything they told me. They feel guilty enough about then-betrayal. What possible reason is there for upsetting them further?"