“Come on, Three Horses is this way,” Kard told him. “It’s the second-best inn in town, where we’d have stayed if Anristo’s had been full. I’ve stayed there before.”
They continued down the street in silence, their distinctive gray coats and visible quickshooters buying them a bit of space. Carlon was sufficiently frontier that most folks were armed—but also so that there was enough space to leave armed people alone.
The inn was easy to pick out. It had a large hand-painted sign hanging over the door with three differently colored horses on it. An armed Wardwatch was sitting on the steps, watching the people coming and going but not interrupting anyone.
“We’re here to check on the crime scene,” Kard told the man. “Any trouble with that?”
“Nah.” The Watch produced a key and handed it to Teer. “We locked the door. You’ll need this.”
They exchanged nods with the man and stepped into the common room. Unlike Anristo’s, the space was empty of customers. People seemed to be rushing to reach their rooms or leave the inn, not stopping for breakfast.
Two women were standing behind the bar. One’s hands were holding something under the wood—and Teer could smell the gun oil from there.
“She’s armed,” he murmured to Kard.
“I’d be too.”
They approached the women.
“We’re Hunters with a Writ of Seizure for Lora,” Kard told the two workers. “The Wardkeeper authorized us to check on the crime scene and investigate. May we ask you some questions?”
“Do we gets a choice?” the woman with her hands on the gun asked.
“Can’t make you answer,” Kard said. “We just want to see justice done.”
The two women exchanged a glance, then one shrugged.
“May’s well,” she said. “What you want to know?”
“What happened?” he asked. “That you know?”
Teer adopted the easy waiting position any herdsman was familiar with. He could stand like that for hours, and his only real part in this chunk of the job was to learn.
“Carind sleep two nights here,” the younger woman said. “Slept alone first night. Lora went with him second.” She shook her head. “Not sure why.”
“Oh?” Kard asked, his tone neutral.
“Lora’s not one of the working girls,” the woman told him. “Sheela or I”—she gestured to the older woman—“we’s for rent. Lora’s the owner’s daughter. She’s not.”
“But she went willingly?” Kard asked carefully.
“So far as we know,” Sheela said flatly. “Enough folks in the inn she wouldn’t gone by force. But…Carind is Marked of House Ilit.”
The room was suddenly cold and silent, and Teer shivered. The Marked of a Spehari House were under that House’s protection, guarded from many of the actions a Spehari could normally take against a Unity citizen without punishment.
They were the favored merchants and supporters of the demigods who ruled the Unity. That put a very different tone on the Writ Teer and Kard had taken on.
Kard didn’t show any of that in his voice as he continued.
“Ah. And who found Carind?” he asked.
“I did,” Sheela insisted.
She was lying, Teer realized. He wasn’t sure how he knew that or why she was lying, but she was. That was interesting, though he wasn’t sure what it meant.
“And what did you find?” Kard asked gently.
“Door was broke. Room was a mess. Carind was on the floor, bleeding out. Called the Wardwatches.”
“I see,” Kard allowed. “We have the key to the room. May we see it?”
“If you must.” Sheela gestured them up the stairs at the back of the room. “Room six.”
“Thank you.”
There was a moment of quiet as Kard led the way toward the stairs, then the younger woman spoke from behind them.
“Don’t believe it,” the woman snapped. “Lora’s no killer. That ba—”
“Shut it,” Sheela barked. “Sorry, Hunter. Lora is one of us. We…don’t trust all we hear.”
“Then trust in the Unity’s justice,” Kard said levelly. “Our job is just to bring her back.”
3
The stairs led up to a wood-floored hallway lined with unevenly spaced doors. Each door had an ornamental number painted on it in a delicate hand, turning a practical necessity into surprisingly gorgeous decoration.
Room six was one of the two at the end of the hall—and notable for having several planks across it, the boards reinforcing the door where someone had broken it open. The lock was a rough replacement that contrasted with the locks on the other rooms and matched the key the Wardwatch had given Kard.
“Open it,” the El-Spehari ordered Teer, passing him the key.
Shrugging, the Merik youth obeyed. Something told him to be careful and he dropped a hand to the grip of his quickshooter as he pushed the door open, the scent of blood clear to his nose.
Kard was similarly ready as they moved into the room, sweeping for threats they didn’t find.
“Nice room,” Teer murmured. The rooms Kard had rented at Anristo’s were stunning luxury to him, but this was something else again. It was at least half again the size of any bedroom he’d ever been in, with a four-poster bed against one wall and a seating area of comfortable-looking stuffed chairs.
Several delicately carved crystal lamps were scattered around the room, their magical light easily controlled to provide steady light—but requiring regular recharging by a Spehari or replacement crystals that had been charged by a Spehari.
Keeping crystal lamps running wasn’t cheap, but these ones continued to emit their warm red light despite the daylight leaking through the half-open shutters.
Teer carefully crossed the room and opened the shutters to let the daylight in, making everything clearly visible.
“What do you see?” Kard asked, the El-Spehari still standing by the door with his hands on his guns.
Teer turned around to survey the room in the fresh light.
“Pricey room,” he said. “I’d guess only a handful like this in town. Carind’s rich.”
Real rich, too. Not the “rich” of men like Teer’s mother’s new husband, who ran a successful ranch and saw a lot of money flow through his hands and books…but never really had that much to spend after the costs of the business.
“He’s Marked,” Kard replied. “That doesn’t get given for nothing. He’s important to one of the Houses.”
Teer nodded, sweeping his gaze across the room. There was the blood. It started on the blankets, then trailed across the floor to a large stain on the edge of the rug around the bed. The bed coverings were a mess, though Teer didn’t see anything in them to really speak of struggle.
“Fight started on the bed,” he guessed. “Carind hit the floor; she followed. Kept hitting him. With one of the lamps?”
“Why the lamps?” Kard asked.
Teer pointed at the fragments he had just noticed reflecting in the sunlight.
“Somethin’ made of redcrystal broke while they were fightin’,” he said. “Fragments everywhere.”