A Murder of Mages (34 page)

“Baby, I’m sorry, I—” Satrine stammered out, but Rian’s cries drowned her out.

The door opened, Missus Abernand scowling at them both. “What are you ruckusing about?”

Rian pushed past Missus Abernand and ran inside the apartment.

“What was that about?” Missus Abernand asked.

“Nothing,” Satrine said. She stepped toward the door, but Missus Abernand didn’t move, and unlike Rian, she wasn’t small enough to easily push past the woman. “Can I get in my own home, please?”

“Maybe,” Missus Abernand said. “What happened there?”

“Foolishness,” Satrine said. “Rian’s and mine.” She flexed and relaxed her hand, the urge to strike still in her
muscles. If she had swung, it wouldn’t have been a simple slap.

“Hmm,” Missus Abernand said. “I need to go to the market, anyway.” She brushed past Satrine, letting the door swing shut behind her.

Satrine still didn’t have her key.

Chapter 21

R
ICH, MEATY SMELLS and raucous laughter greeted Minox and Nyla as they entered the house. Lamb, beef, and pork, to Minox’s nose. That was highly unusual. “Is something special happening tonight?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” Nyla said, hanging her coat.

Ferah came into the cloakroom, still wearing her Yellowshield vest. “Minox!” she said, her face bright and warm. “Your friend is so charming!”

“His friend?” Nyla asked.

“I’m at a loss,” Minox said.

“Charming, handsome, and no marriage bracelet,” Ferah said. Nyla’s interest perked up, and she brushed past Ferah to go to the sitting room. Ferah laughed, and looked at Minox again. “You look horrible. What happened?”

“Constabulary work,” Minox said. “What friend is this?”

“Joshea,” Ferah said. She raised an eyebrow. “He said you invited him here.”

Joshea was here? That was surprising. Though it was accurate, Minox had told him to come. He never expected he would call so early. “No, of course. It has been a trying day, is all.” He passed the newssheets to Ferah. “Leave those on the back stoop for me. I’ll bring them out to Evoy later.”

She took them, nodding. “Mother is a bit put out you didn’t see him yesterday.”

“I will rectify tonight,” Minox said. “Solemn promise.”

She led him to the sitting room, where Minox’s uncles and male cousins—save for Evoy—all howled with laughter while listening to Joshea, who held court in front of the fireplace, beer in hand.

“—and he didn’t even realize! He just stood there, proudly, sword in hand, while—Minox!”

“Joshea,” Minox said. “I see you’ve met just about everyone already.” He noticed Ferah, Nyla, and even Alma all standing in the archway to the dining room, looking more than a little lovestruck. It seemed almost ridiculous.

“Indeed,” Joshea said, crossing over to take Minox’s hand. “Your whole family has been quite welcoming.”

“I would expect nothing less of them,” Minox said.

“He’s been telling us old war stories,” Uncle Tal said.

“Army stories, Tal,” Joshea said jovially. “I may have been in a few skirmishes, but never a war.”

Uncle Timmothen shook his head. “If wearing the Gray is like the Red and Green, every day is a war.” The room at large nodded in agreement.

“You take a few to the chin, brother?” Oren asked. “Anyone check you out?”

“It’s nothing,” Minox said. “Though I should clean myself up.”

“Don’t be too long, son,” Uncle Cole said. “Your mother and aunts are cooking up quite the feast tonight.”

“Are they now?” Minox asked, looking at Joshea.

“I couldn’t possibly arrive empty-handed,” Joshea said. “I brought a large selection of meat.”

“And we can’t stay, Pop,” Colm said fiercely. “We’ve got to go check in.”

“We could come late, Colm,” Tal said. “Saints know the chief isn’t paying attention.”

The room launched into raucous jibes, as Minox’s various uncles, cousins, and brothers all admonished Tal for daring to say such a thing. “Duty first,” was the most commonly repeated phrase. Minox himself almost said it
out of habit. There was no need to add his voice to the chorus, though.

“All right, all right,” Tal said. “Forget I said it. But I better find some still left in the morning, hear?”

“Can’t promise that,” Edard said, patting his own father’s stomach. “It’s been a hungry day for all of us.”

Jace piped up, “And I bet Joshea can eat as much as Minox can!”

The room went quiet for a moment.

Colm broke the silence. “Really, Pop, we’ve got to move along.”

“Aye,” Tal said. “It’s been a pleasure, Mister Brondar.”

They brushed past Minox and left.

“You said something about cleaning up,” Joshea said quietly.

“Indeed,” Minox said. “If you’ll all excuse me.”

“If I may join you?” Joshea asked.

Minox nodded and went to the stairway, Joshea at his side. Regular conversation resumed in the sitting room.

“I’m terribly sorry if I’ve inconvenienced you,” Joshea said. “But you said—”

“It’s quite all right. I did tell you to look me up here. I was not expecting you to be so well received, though.”

Joshea gave a weak smile. “Arrive with full hands, be welcomed with open arms. That’s what my mother used to say.”

“Wise woman,” Minox said, leading Joshea over to the washroom. “I have to offer apologies of my own. Today’s work was . . . trying.”

“The . . . murder in the alley? You haven’t solved it?”

“Hardly. In fact, there have been two more deaths. I’m sure the newssheets are already printing the salacious details.” Minox stripped off his vest and shirt.

“There’s more to it than that, though,” Joshea said.

Minox glanced out the door to make sure no one was listening in. “Indeed. But I think we should discuss it at a later point, with more privacy.”

“Of course,” Joshea said. He gave his own glance while Minox pumped water into the basin. “Does your family know? About—”

“It’s not something anyone speaks of,” Minox said. Of course they knew. Most of the Inemar stationhouse knew, and that included Corrie and Nyla. The only way anyone in the family didn’t know was out of willful ignorance, which was not something he’d put past Uncle Timmothen or his sons. But there was the unspoken agreement throughout the house that no one brought it up.

Minox washed off his face. “How bad do I look?”

“Bit of bruising is all. If you were army, the Yellow would send you right back out.”

“Fair enough,” Minox said, drying off his face. He tossed the soiled clothes into Zura’s laundering hamper and went to his room to collect a fresh shirt. “Though I’m sure Aunt Beliah will say otherwise.”

“She’s the brown-haired one with the gray streaks?”

“Right.” Minox finished dressing. “Nurse at Ironheart, and she can be tireless in her fussing.”

“She seems sweet,” Joshea said. “The whole household does.”

“Who’s talking out there?” A sharp, crackling voice called from the back bedroom. Grandmother Jillian.

“Minox.”

“I know it’s you, rascal. I mean the other voice.” With slow stomps, Grandmother came out in the hallway, wrapped in a dressing gown. “Not many strange men come up here.”

Joshea saluted her with military crispness. “Ma’am. I had no intention of disturbing you.”

“Pff,” Grandmother said with a dismissive wave. “He’s not here from the asylum, is he?”

“No, Grandmother. He’s just a friend.”

“Good.” She looked Joshea over. “You’ve got army in you, don’t you?”

“Three years, ma’am,” Joshea said with a smile.

“We aren’t still mucking about in the islands, are we?”

“I spent one year out there, but we’re not engaging in direct action. That war has been over—”

“For fifteen years, I know. I’m not mad yet.” Grandmother smiled and approached, resting one hand on
Minox’s arm. “That war took up most of my life, you know. And what was the point of it?”

“My father would say ‘principle,’” Joshea offered.

“Hmm,” Grandmother said. “You lost people in that, didn’t you?”

“None I knew. But there’s a whole list. My father even says there was a Brondar among the Twenty at New Fencal.”

Grandmother laughed. “Everyone claims an ancestor among the Twenty. They must have sowed a lot of bastards before they shipped out.”

“Grandmother!” Minox said. He wasn’t entirely shocked; Corrie’s salty mouth didn’t come from nowhere.

“Oh, hush. He’s a soldier, they expect that sort of talk.”

“It’s quite all right, ma’am.”

“You call me Jill or I’ll box your ear,” she said. “Minox, dear, help me down. Supper at the table seems worth the effort tonight.”

After Satrine knocked several times, Caribet opened the door. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Satrine said, coming in. “Where’s your sister?” Satrine asked. Caribet pointed to their shared room. Rian had already closed herself inside. Satrine tried to open it, but Rian must have moved the beds to block the door. Satrine spoke as gently and calmly as she could manage. “Rian, let me in.”

“Go away, Mother!”

Satrine didn’t have any fight left. She turned back to her younger daughter. “Did you have a good day?”

“Fine,” Caribet said warily. “We worked on penmanship most of the day.”

“Good,” Satrine said. “Practical skill.”

“Are you all right, Mother?”

“Far from,” Satrine said. “I’m going to check on your father.”

“All right,” Caribet said.

Satrine went into the bedroom. Loren lay in the bed,
face a blank, as it had been for nearly a month. No change. Never a change.

“Is this what it was like every day, love?” Satrine asked. She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her boots off. “I don’t know how you managed to come home smiling most of the time.”

She touched his face. His eyes moved around, searching the room, never landing on any one thing for more than a moment. She leaned in close to him, cradling his face in her hands. His eyes still didn’t find hers.

She kissed him. His lips were soft, open, and unresponsive.

She pulled away, tears welling at her eyes. “I don’t have much to come home to, do I?”

She stood back up, taking off her coat and belt. “What choice do I really have, though? Second day, and I’m . . .” She didn’t let herself finish the sentence. She didn’t want to even think about what she was about to say. She took off the vest and held it in front of him.

“I never wanted to have this role, you know. I just wanted . . . I don’t even know. I want our girls to not have to worry about the things I had to. Have to.” She laughed despite herself. “Maybe I should let Rian run off with that rich boy. Most mothers would leap at the possibility of such an upward pairing. Though I doubt he has noble intentions toward her.”

Loren’s eyes weren’t darting anymore. They held locked and steady on her.

Not on her, no. On the vest.

She threw it down on the bed, and his eyes went lazy again.

“Is that it, Loren?” she snapped, not caring how loud she was being. “Is that what matters most? The vest? The work? Honor to the Green and Red?” That was what she had lost him to. That’s why he was in the state he was in, what he cared most about.

And now she was stuck in it too. No other choice.

She stormed out to the sitting room. She wanted to scream, to hit something. She wanted to be back in that church with that maniac five feet away from her so she
could get her hands around his throat and tear him down. She wanted to smash her fists into Idre Hoffer. She wanted to pound the smug look off that rich boy’s face.

She had been going through shelves, rifling through the sitting room, not even sure why. She opened up her old trunk, pulling out clothes and keepsakes that had been buried in there. She realized what she wanted.

“Mama?” Caribet asked. “What are you doing?”

“I have a book,” Satrine said. “A book I want to read.”

She got to the bottom of the trunk. No book.

“What book, Mama?”

“It—it should be here.” She felt around the clothes, thinking that it might be wrapped inside something. Nothing. She tilted the trunk over, dumping its contents on the floor.

“Mama?”

It wasn’t there. “Where is it?”