Read Online The Inquisitives [4] The Darkwood Mask by Jeff LaSala - Free Book Online Page B

papers, but the other woman waved the document away. “Either you’re the killer come again—in which case there’s obviously little we could do to stop you entering—or you’re the inquisitive they sent in.”
    “I … Yes.”
    “Three good men lost their lives defending your precious ambassador, so do me a favor, Brelander. Just name the killer so we can do
our
job.”
    “I aim to,” Soneste answered with a nod, deciding this was not the time to correct the name for her countrymen:
Brelish
. Korth’s garrison seemed as dour as its citizenry, but after dealing with silver-tongued Aundairians and self-righteous Thranes back home, Karrns were refreshingly incisive. They seemed to say precisely what they were thinking.
    “If you need us,” the Lion said with a dismissive gesture, “just shout.”
    The key the concierge had given her unlocked the door with a metallic
click
without her needing to turn it at all. It suppressed the magic wards that locked and guarded the door. The killer no doubt had the means to subvert such wards.
    When Soneste pushed open the door, an unnatural cold washed over her from the dimness within. Even if every window within had been left open, it should not have been this frigid. Clearly this was the preservative magic of which Hyran spoke.
    The coppery stench of blood tainted the air, muted only sleightly by the cold. She’d inspected too many murder scenes to be fazed by such unpleasantness, but the lingering threat of the unknown killer kept her senses sharp, despite the presence of the guards. Killers often returned to the scene of the crime, either to remove evidence or kill again.
    Soneste shut the door behind her then drew out her crysteel dagger and a silvery headband. The latter was a watch lamp, created for the Sharn Watch, but the many favors owed to Thuranne had secured several for her agency’s use. Soneste slipped the mithral circlet around her head and with a thought summoned a globe of white light into the air. It floated just over her shoulder, illuminating the space around her as brightly as a torch.
    The dwelling was a study in luxurious amenities. Easily five times larger than her own apartment back in Sharn, it was carpeted and filled with a variety of elegant furniture and magewrought conveniences. Beyond the foyer, she could see two bedrooms, a privy, and a dining room all connected by a lavish—though blood-spattered—common room.
    Bracing herself against the severe cold, she opened the leather folder Hyran had provided. According to the death report within, a total of ten had been slain.
    The first three were the White Lions of which the guard had spoken, allegedly the first to respond to the massacre only to become victims themselves. They lay upon the hardwood of the foyer in dried pools of blood. The wounds were very precise, made in the grooves and joints of the half-plate armor by a slender, piercing blade. Such injuries were undoubtedly meant to slow them down until an opening presented itself, which it had—each man had a bloody stab wound in his neck, clear through to the other side.
    “Khyber,” she whispered, breath clouding in the freezing air. The killer was a professional.
    The death report stated that the soldiers’ bodies would soon be relocated to the Necropolis of the Valiant, the city’s morgue. An addendum stated that the seven remaining dead, the bodies of the Brelish ambassador and his party, were not subject to seizure by the state.
    Soneste scowled. The fact that every Karrnathi citizen could be claimed by the royal corpse collectors upon death sickened her. Despite the war’s end two years ago, this decree had endured, allowing the remains of Karrnath’s citizens to be raised again to serve the state should the need ever arise. Was she really surprised? Karrnath was still under martial law. Here the draconian Code of Kaius prevailed over the more civilized Code of Galifar.
    According to the
Korranberg Chronicle
, Karrnath’s