Magic Lost, Trouble Found

Chapter 16

No doubt Ocnus had always wanted to be popular. Now I wanted to talk to him. So did Sarad Nukpana. But somehow, I didn’t think that was the kind of popularity Ocnus had in mind.

Tracking the goblin snitch was simple enough. From time to time, Ocnus found it prudent not to be among his own people. Nothing like having a deal go sour to compel you to make yourself scarce. When the Goblin District was the last place he wanted to be, Ocnus had three favorite places to drown his sorrows: the Blind Bandit, the Sly Fox, and the Sleeping Giant. The Blind Bandit had burnt to the ground last month, the owner of the Sly Fox wanted to get his hands on Ocnus almost as much as Sarad Nukpana did, so that left the Sleeping Giant. Sure enough, Ocnus was in residence at the bar with his two hobgoblin bodyguards in tow.

Bodyguard work came easily to hobgoblins. When you’re huge, furry, fanged, and yellow-eyed, you don’t need much else as a deterrent. Ocnus’s muscle-bound bookends were good at one thing—being big. To their credit, they did it very well. But speed, either of thought or action, wasn’t a burden either one carried.

The Sleeping Giant was a dockside dive located on Cutthroat Alley. I know what it sounds like, but the locals liked the name. In fact, they thought they were being downright civic-minded by calling it what it really was. It told the nonlocal what was likely to happen to them if they dawdled there. If a nonlocal chose to ignore the warning that was their business, or life.

Phaelan was waiting for Ocnus with two of his crew and a pair of Guardians in an alley off the aforementioned alley that ran beside the tavern. Tam was back at Sirens. He had a business to take care of. I told him I would take care of Ocnus.

Mychael Eiliesor was taking care of me.

There was no way the Guardian was going to let me out of his sight. I guess I should have been grateful he didn’t take the hardline security solution of locking me up somewhere. I was sure he still considered that an option, but since there was no way he could get the Saghred by himself, it was in his best interests to stay on my good side. And that’s exactly where he was. Really close. While Eiliesor’s proximity was rather nice, it wasn’t very practical. If I needed to draw a blade, I’d have to knock him out of the way first. And considering his size in relation to mine, I knew that wasn’t physically possible.

I’d join Phaelan in a minute, but I wanted to talk to Eiliesor now. I had some questions. Nagging questions of the life-and-death variety. Eiliesor and I were behind some crates around the corner from Cutthroat Alley. Phaelan would let me know when Ocnus put in an appearance. I wanted the first hands around Ocnus’s throat to be mine.

Eiliesor stood an arm’s length away, utterly still, his hands relaxed—and where they could immediately draw either sword or dagger. Always the Guardian, always on duty, always ready for anything. I wondered if he even knew how to relax. Not that I wanted him to start now, but I did wonder what a playful Mychael Eiliesor would be like.

He must have felt me watching him. He looked down at me, his dark eyes unreadable in the alley’s faint light.

“What are you thinking?” His voice was a husky whisper. Raising your voice in this part of the waterfront was never a good idea. Maybe he knew that. Or maybe it was just for me. Either way, it was a very nice whisper.

“Nothing,” I lied.

“You were smiling.”

“Was not.”

One corner of his mouth turned upward. “Yes, you were. What is it?”

“I was wondering if you’re ever off duty.”

“I am.”

“Do you ever act like it?”

His blue eyes shone in the half-light. “I’ve been known to. Is that what prompted the smile?”

“It was. I just can’t imagine you being anything other than a Guardian.”

“I don’t know what you may have heard about me,” he began.

“By the book and all business.”

The smile broadened slightly. “I do hold myself and my men to a higher level of accountability than some of my predecessors. It’s earned me a reputation that has its uses. Sometimes it makes my job, and the jobs of my men, a little easier.” The smile faded. “I take my position—and my responsibilities—very seriously. You’re in danger because of an object that is my responsibility, something I’m asking you to help us find.”

I shifted uncomfortably. “My reasons for agreeing to help aren’t exactly honorable, you know. I’m one big bull’s-eye for a lot of bad people until I can get this thing off of me, so I have a vested interest in helping you get what you want.”

“That doesn’t lessen the danger you’ll be in over the next few days, nor does it lessen my appreciation for your help—and my admiration of you.” The Guardian paused awkwardly. “Mistress Benares?” His voice was oddly formal.

“Yes?”

“I would like it very much if you would call me Mychael.”

I felt a smile coming on. I didn’t try to stop it. “I think I can do that.”

If the light had been better, I would have sworn he had blushed. I felt a little warm myself.

Now for the question of the night. “Do you have a plan?” I asked, my voice small and quiet even to me.

Mychael seemed genuinely puzzled. “Pardon me?”

“A plan. Say Ocnus actually knows where the Saghred is, and we get him to cough it up. Do you have a plan that’s going to get this thing off my neck while leaving my head attached to my shoulders?”

“I do, but the details depend on where the Saghred is.”

Now for the question I really didn’t want to ask. “What if the weasel’s lying? What if he doesn’t know a thing, and he just tried to con the wrong people? It wouldn’t be the first time. What then?”

Mychael was silent for a little too long.

“You are a seeker—and your father’s daughter.”

I thought it’d be something like that.

He moved a step closer to me. I didn’t move, and I didn’t mind.

His voice was low. “If there is the possibility, however remote, that Ocnus Rancil knows where the Saghred is, I would prefer to get that information from him and then confirm it through more mundane means.”

I swallowed. “Because the Saghred’s dangerous.”

“That’s one reason.” Mychael paused uncomfortably. “No doubt you are a fine seeker, but your father had the beacon created to his skill level. He was an exceptionally gifted mage, one of the best our order has ever produced. He knew how to use the beacon to keep track of the Saghred. Unfortunately, that information vanished with him. But I am knowledgeable of how a beacon such as yours works—”

“So you can walk me through it, if necessary.”

He smiled slightly. “If necessary. Hopefully it won’t be.”

“What are the chances that Eamaliel Anguis is my father?” I finally asked. “Really.”

“From the beacon’s reaction to you, almost a certainty.”

I was quiet for a longer moment, for an entirely different reason.

“A nine-hundred-year-old elven Guardian is my father.” I said it as much to myself as to the much younger elven Guardian standing in front of me. Like saying it would make it more believable. Or less terrifying.

“He was connected to the Saghred,” I said. “I’m connected to the Saghred. He’s nine-hundred-years old and still alive. I’m going to be…?”

“Just fine,” Mychael assured me.

“How do you know that?”

“Eamaliel had nearly continuous, daily contact with the Saghred for almost two years before he ever had the beacon made. And he wore the beacon for nearly a decade before anyone noticed he didn’t seem to be aging. You’ve never touched the Saghred, and you’ve only worn the beacon for two days. We’re going to find the Saghred, get the beacon off of you, and you’re going to be just fine.”

“No magical leftovers?”

Mychael was silent.

“You’ve been reassuring until now,” I said. “More of the same would be nice.”

“There could be some residuals.”

“Residuals?”

“When Eamaliel keyed himself to the beacon, he essentially keyed himself to the Saghred. The beacon acted as a conduit, and transferred some of the Saghred’s power to him. You experienced a taste of that last night with the Magh’Sceadu. With beacons and objects of power, any link is usually severed when the beacon is removed.”

“Usually.”

“With something as powerful as the Saghred, the residuals can be significantly more than mere magical leftovers.”

“So some of what I can do now could stay with me?”

“It’s possible that all of what you can do now will stay with you.”

“Great. Every couple of hours I’m finding something new I can do.” I had a thought, and it made me faintly queasy. “Would Sarad Nukpana know this?”

“He is a leading Saghred scholar,” Mychael said. “Yes, he would know.”

I didn’t need to know that.

Phaelan’s low whistle came from the alley. Show time.

I slipped into the alley next to Phaelan. Mychael stayed around the corner. I’d told him before we’d left Sirens that I wanted a shot at Ocnus first. I was the one he had set up; I was the one with the beacon stuck around my neck. I felt that earned me certain rights and privileges. Before tonight, I’d never thought of strangling Ocnus as a right or privilege, but the past few days had been full of firsts.

I looked around. No Ocnus. “Where is he?”

Phaelan’s smile flashed in the dim light. “He’s finishing off his last pint now. I had Norleen giving him free ale. He’ll have to stop here before he leaves.”

“Here?” Understanding dawned, and it didn’t smell good.

Phaelan grinned. “Yeah, right here.”

“Am I standing in…?” I looked down at my boots in disgust.

His grin grew to wolfish proportions and he tapped his own boot in something wet. “Highly likely. Payback is hell, cousin. From Nigel’s stinking alley to Ocnus’s.”

Now I remembered why I avoided alleys in this part of the waterfront. I was glad it was a cool night. In high summer, the smell would have been unbearable.

Never think a night can’t get any worse. There’s all kinds of worse.

“Who’s Norleen?” I asked, trying in vain to keep my mind off my feet.

“The brew mistress here. I knew her when she worked at the Beggar’s Back. Brews fine ale, but the dwarf who owns this place is too cheap to sell the lady’s nectar at full strength. He thinks he can make more profit if he waters it down. But I understand you can get it full strength if you slip Norleen a little extra.”

“Ocnus is no use to us drunk,” I reminded him.

“No problem. Norleen made sure he filled his bladder before his brain. He’ll be just relaxed enough to make him receptive to questioning.” He grinned. “Or you could always speed things up and do a mind link.”

My expression and accompanying gesture let him know what I thought of that. Doing a mind link on someone like Ocnus was akin to turning over a rock and finding squishy things underneath. With Ocnus, finding something squishy was always guaranteed.

Phaelan nodded toward the shadows Mychael had blended into. Literally blended into. Eerie. Phaelan’s look wasn’t entirely approving. “What do you think about that one? I don’t trust him.”

The two Guardians from Tam’s place were standing not five feet away. Phaelan didn’t seem to care. If his goal for the evening was to have the blond Guardian’s ax embedded in his skull, he was off to a fine start.

“I don’t expect you will,” I told him. “His job is to uphold the law. Yours isn’t. If I want to get rid of this thing, I’m going to need some help. He’s my top candidate.” I looked at the tavern’s door. “Are Ocnus’s pet goons still with him?”

“Never three feet from his side,” Phaelan said. “It’s enough to make me claustrophobic. He must be nervous tonight.”

I snorted. “I wonder why. I hope Norleen gave them free ale, too. The less sober people we have to deal with, the better.”

“Full strength to one, but the other’s not drinking. She tried, but no dice.”

“Not a problem,” the blond Guardian rumbled.

I jumped. I’d almost forgotten they were there.

The Guardian grinned down at me. “Not to worry. We’ll entertain those two while you and the captain talk to Master Rancil.”

He sounded only too happy to help. I could develop a soft spot for the ax wielder.

Phaelan was right. Ocnus, and his bladder, had more than their fill of Norleen’s brew. We slipped farther into the alley. Apparently there were only so many places Ocnus’s twin mountains of muscle would go with him. Alleys that doubled as public urinals didn’t make the cut. Maybe they weren’t as dumb as they looked. The two Guardians drifted silently to either side of the alley entrance, and literally blended into the shadows like their commander. It was spooky. Ocnus came into the alley. His guards didn’t. I heard their boot scuffs. Then I didn’t. Like I said, spooky.

Phaelan had done this sort of thing before and deemed it prudent to wait until Ocnus had finished doing what he came to do before apprehending him. Something to do with the possibility of accidents. Unlike most of Phaelan’s plans, I didn’t question the wisdom of this one.

Once Ocnus was actually in the alley, I found a simply fascinating spot on the wall that warranted my complete and undivided attention. Phaelan would handle the more physical aspects of securing Ocnus. I was here in case Ocnus was still capable of defense of the magical variety.

I heard a thump followed by a strangled squeal. So much for Ocnus being capable.

Phaelan had him neatly pinned to the alley wall. “Hello, Ocnus.”

“Captain Benares,” the sorcerer squeaked.

I stepped out of the shadows, my most serious I’m-going-to-hurt-you-now look on my face. I was hoping Ocnus would buy my bluff and I wouldn’t actually have to do anything. Especially anything that involved touching him. From the widening of Ocnus’s eyes, I guessed I was the last person he expected to come face-to-face with tonight. Then again, Ocnus’s bulging eyes may have been due to Phaelan’s forearm on his throat. I told myself it was me. It helped keep the evil glint in my eye.

Ocnus was still alive and walking around the city because certain people found him useful. Like now. Those same people had also allowed him to live because it would be difficult to explain to the city watch that they’d killed Ocnus just because he was annoying. While the watch all knew Ocnus and would understand the reason, the law wouldn’t let them approve of it.

“Spending the Mal’Salin gold you earned last night?” I asked.

“Last night was just business, nothing personal.”

“Piaras Rivalin was beaten and we were both kidnapped.” I stepped in closer to Ocnus than I wanted to be. For people like him, intimidation and proximity went hand in hand. It was crude, but it worked. “Last night was everything personal.”

Ocnus managed to shake his head. “You don’t understand.”

“I think I do. Word has it that Sarad Nukpana is looking for you.”

Ocnus tried a smile, but it just came off looking queasy. “He gave me the night off.”

Phaelan sighed regretfully, though I knew he didn’t regret one thing he was prepared to do. “Ocnus, you really need to work on your lying. You’ve been here less than an hour, and you’ve finished off five pints all by yourself. Even one of your guard dogs was hard pressed to keep pace.”

The pudgy sorcerer looked around wildly.

“They found something else to do,” I told him. “You might see them later.”

“I think you’re having a bad night,” Phaelan surmised, “and you’re trying to drink yourself into a better one. It doesn’t work that way. Trust me, I know.”

“I don’t think you have the night off,” I told Ocnus. “I think you’ve run away from home.”

Phaelan adjusted his grip. “You running away from home, Ocnus?”

The sorcerer squirmed a little and squeaked.

“I think that’s a ‘yes’,” I said.

“Your Mal’Salin friends wouldn’t get within a mile of this dump,” Phaelan said. “We think that’s why you’re here. You must have done something extra naughty to put an entire city between you. Care to share with us?”

I leaned in close. “I’ll settle for where the Saghred is. Since Chigaru Mal’Salin already paid you the fifty tenari you were going to charge me, I’ll just take the information.”

Ocnus’s eyes flickered to my chest. He suspected the beacon was there, at least that’s what I told myself. If I let myself think otherwise, Ocnus wouldn’t be in any condition to tell me anything. One of my fists flexed involuntarily. Then again he didn’t need all his teeth to talk.

“The Saghred has always belonged to the Mal’Salins,” Ocnus managed. Phaelan hadn’t lightened the pressure on his neck, but I could hear a faint note of smugness. The smugness of someone pleased with a job well done.

“Which one? King Sathrik or Prince Chigaru?”

Ocnus squirmed some more.

“Yeah, I thought so. That has to be a problem for you, especially considering that the king brought Sarad Nukpana along on his little goodwill trip. Psychos don’t have much of a sense of humor when it comes to being double-crossed.”

“Professionally speaking, there’s nothing wrong with having two clients vying for the same prize,” Phaelan noted. “But it’s risky, and takes a certain level of skill to get away with their money and your life. Ocnus here just isn’t that gifted.”

I narrowed my eyes and twisted the corner of my mouth into what I’d been told was a smile that promised many bad things. Considering the anger I had bubbling just beneath the surface, I didn’t have to try very hard to look mean. I slowly drew my favorite dagger for good measure. It was thin and slightly curved. Ocnus had heard what I had done with it last year. Little of it was actually true. When it came to maintaining a reputation, facts were fleeting, but you could ride a rumor for years. It wasn’t facts that had Ocnus shaking in his puddle.

“And I don’t think you’re much of a risk taker,” I said, fighting back several violent urges. Phaelan looked similarly challenged. “I think you know where the Saghred is. So does Sarad Nukpana. You can tell us here, or we can go somewhere quiet and we’ll ask you again, and we’ll keep asking until you tell us. It’s entirely up to you.”

“Nukpana won’t allow this,” Ocnus squeaked around Phaelan’s arm.

Phaelan chuckled. “You actually want him to know? You’re crazier than he is. If you don’t tell her everything, either I’ll kill you, or she can put that filleting knife of hers to good use. And as long as we have you, Nukpana will think you talked. Either way, your night’s going to go from bad to worse unless you tell us where the Saghred is.”

Ocnus’s ferret eyes darted to me. There was a crack in his bravado, but I could tell it wasn’t ready to open. Not yet. I was tired of standing in a stinking alley, and I knew just the thing to turn that crack into a chasm.

I had no intention of using the knife, so I put it away. But I kept the smile. I knew just the thing to get Ocnus into a conversational mood. Ocnus worked for the Mal’Salin family, but he also feared them, with plenty of good reasons. The royal family’s closets were packed with skeletons, but one skeleton in particular pushed Ocnus’s panic button.

My grin broadened. Not all Mal’Salins were in the Goblin District tonight, and one of them owed me big time.

“Ocnus, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

Tam just looked at me. “Tell me you’re joking.”

“Sarad Nukpana wants the Saghred. I want my life back. Ocnus knows where the Saghred is. Need I say more?”

We were in the storeroom at Sirens. Phaelan was back on the Fortune. After delivering Ocnus into Tam’s clutches, he considered his work with me for the evening done. Chivalry wasn’t dead, but sometimes when it got around Phaelan it took a nap.

Mychael Eiliesor was in the next room. Since the plan was to let Ocnus go after we had the information we wanted, the Guardian chose to lie low. Ocnus hadn’t seen him, and Eiliesor wanted to keep it that way. Mainly he didn’t want Ocnus running around with the knowledge that at this moment, Mermeia was positively teaming with Guardians who were after the same thing as the Mal’Salin family and Sarad Nukpana.

I knew Tam kept a spell around the storeroom to make it soundproof. I suspected it was used as an interrogation room almost as often as it stored glasses and tablecloths, but I really didn’t want to know the details. Ocnus was inside the room and couldn’t hear us.

“You set me up,” Tam accused.

There was a lot of that going around.

“Turnabout’s fair play,” I told him.

“You’re not going to let me forget about Rahimat, are you?”

“Should I? Your nephew’s up to his pointy ears in dumping me and Piaras at Chigaru Mal’Salin’s feet, and you tell me I should let it go?”

“I didn’t have a thing to do with that, and you know it.” He smiled slowly. “Besides, you like me too much to stay mad.”

There wasn’t much by means of contrition in that smile, but this was Tam we were talking about. Besides, it was true. I did believe him, and Tam was way too charming to stay mad at for long. Since he was right, I did the only thing I could do. I changed the subject.

“Markus’s dockside safehouses are all occupied at the moment, so this was the most convenient place to bring him. Will you help me or not?”

Tam glanced at Ocnus through a gap left intentionally in the door boards. He opened his mouth to say something, then stopped. He shook his head and laughed softly.

“I don’t have to say how much you’ll owe me for this.”

“I owe you nothing. You owe me for last night.”

“It wasn’t my fault.”

“It was your house. You didn’t have to let A’Zahra Nuru and her princeling stay there with his closest, most heavily armed friends.”

Tam almost looked sheepish. “Actually, I did. Refusal would have been, how shall I say, difficult for me.”

Tam obviously didn’t want to expound on that, not to mention, I didn’t have the time.

“Help me get Ocnus to talk and I’ll set you up with the best spirits distributor in Greypoint.”

The goblin’s dark eyes flickered in interest.

“She keeps Markus Sevelien’s cellar stocked.”

That got Tam’s attention.

“We’ll discuss the details later,” I added. “Ocnus first. Fine wines later.”

Tam glanced at the little sorcerer and took a deep breath. I didn’t blame him. I wouldn’t want to breathe Ocnus’s air either.

“The things I do for my customers.”

I smiled, stood on tiptoe, and gave him a light kiss on the cheek. “And your friends.”

“Them, too,” he whispered. His breath was warm against my cheek—and his hands even warmer on my waist.

His lips found the tip of my ear, then his tongue made the discovery. I discovered I only had one breath, and it wasn’t going anywhere. And neither was I. One of Tam’s hands encircled my waist, pulling me tight against him. I tried unsuccessfully to remember why I was here. The question flittered around my head in search of an answer. Oh yeah, Ocnus. If that didn’t dampen Tam’s ardor, nothing would.

“Ocnus.” It came out on what little breath I could spare.

“Mmmm?” Tam’s lips were busy working their way south, and his free hand was doing likewise.

I tried to point to the interrogation room, but my fingers had somehow tangled themselves in Tam’s hair. Traitors.

“Ocnus.” I said with only slightly more insistence.

“Let him get his own girl,” Tam murmured. Then he kissed me, a devastating meeting of lips and warm breath, topped off with just a nibble of fang, all guaranteed to liquefy the knees of any woman. I didn’t need the Saghred’s help to know what Tam wanted to do next.

With Mychael Eiliesor in the next room.

I found my breath, inhaled half of Tam’s, and pushed myself away.

“Mychael’s in the next room,” I managed.

His hold tightened. “He can get his own girl, too.”

I raised a warning finger. “That’s not what we’re here for.” I swallowed and tried for more air. It just came out as a gasp.

Tam slid smooth fingers beneath my chin, tilting my face up to his. “Plans can change.” The sly grin on his lips had worked its way north to his dark eyes, eyes that had somehow gotten even darker.

“Perhaps.” I swallowed again, hard. “Later.”

Tam reluctantly released me, but took his sweet time doing it. I stepped back and straightened my shirt—and tried to do the same to my thoughts. Prying and kicking them all out of the gutter they’d fallen into wasn’t easy, but I managed.

Tam and I stepped into the storeroom. From Ocnus’s expression when he saw Tam, I knew this was going to be easy and a little enjoyable. I felt a twinge of guilt about the last part, but the thought of Piaras’s bruised face, along with fire pixies, giant leeches, and Magh’Sceadu—and that Ocnus had played a direct role in causing it all—was enough to make it go away.

“Since you don’t want to speak to me, I thought you might like to talk to Primaru Nathrach.” I paused meaningfully. “You’re aware of his relation to the Mal’Salin family, in addition to his previous position as the late queen’s chief shaman.” I didn’t ask it as a question. Ocnus knew who Tam used to be even better than I did—or wanted to.

Ocnus’s nod was punctuated by a squeak. So much for confirmation of Tam’s past activities, or at least his reputation.

“He’s also a good friend of mine.”

“A very good friend,” Tam added, his voice low and smooth—and completely devoid of mercy. It spoke volumes about what he would be willing to do, and it promised torments beyond Ocnus’s feeble imagination. It gave me the creeps. I could only imagine what it was doing to Ocnus.

I turned to leave the room. “Just let me know if you need anything,” I told Tam cheerfully.

The goblin nodded slowly, his face expressionless. I fought back a shiver. Could I pick my friends, or what?

Ocnus’s worst fear about the Mal’Salin family centered squarely on what they did to servants who had displeased them. They ate them. Of course this wasn’t true. Well, at least not anymore. But when it came to maintaining prejudice, or a reputation, a little rumor went a long way. Especially if the rumor involved rotisserie cooking. The rumored antics of the Mal’Salin family multiplied those fears a hundred fold.

“Wait!” Ocnus’s voice was thin, shrill, and appropriately terrified.

Now we were getting somewhere.

Once Ocnus started talking, there was no shutting him up. His double-dealings had multiplied into a veritable web of intrigue. I knew greed could make you stupid, and I thought I’d seen and heard it all, but Ocnus’s antics appalled even me.

Sarad Nukpana wanted the beacon, and an expendable human thief to get it for him. Ocnus had never liked Quentin, so he topped Ocnus’s list of expendables. Once Chigaru got wind of what his brother and Nukpana were after, he wanted in, too. At this point, things got sticky for Ocnus. He couldn’t refuse Sarad Nukpana’s order without exposing his dealings with Chigaru Mal’Salin. Ocnus knew the double fee he stood to collect wouldn’t do him much good if he were dead, and he was desperate to shift the blame. He told Sarad Nukpana that Quentin was going to double-cross him and fence the beacon through Simon Stocken. It sounded like Stocken hadn’t died quietly, naming Ocnus as the main source of Nukpana’s inconvenience. Then there was last night. Ocnus had been watching Piaras and told Chigaru’s retainers exactly where to find him. Then he sent the letter to me at Sirens. So the entire evening in which Piaras and I were nearly killed on numerous occasions had been orchestrated by the quivering mass of goblin seated not five feet from my clenched and eager fists. I heard a growl. I think it was me.

“Raine.” Tam’s voice was low and warning. “Even Sarad Nukpana would be challenged to extract information from a corpse.”

I unclenched my fists and my jaw. “That’s fascinating, Ocnus. And I can put all that information to good use, but it still doesn’t tell me where the Saghred is.”

“I can’t tell you!” he wailed. “He’ll kill me!”

“Who?”

Ocnus’s lips quivered with muffled sobs. I found it increasingly difficult to keep my rage at a respectable level. It would be a lot easier if Ocnus weren’t so pathetic.

“Nukpana,” he snuffled. “The king, the prince. It doesn’t matter, I’m just as dead.”

Even if I could put my decency on a shelf, I didn’t have the stomach for torture, or the patience for a long interrogation. Good thing I didn’t have to make a living as an inquisitor. I’d starve. Tam sensed my frustration and stepped in, bless him.

“Very well, if you refuse to be useful to my elven friend, you can still be useful to me. You are from Mipor, are you not?”

Ocnus paused, then nodded cautiously, seeing no harm in the question.

“Good. I don’t know if you are aware, but Miporian flesh is a delicacy in our family.” Tam popped the button off of Ocnus’s shirt cuff with a sharp snap, and slid the dirty linen above his elbow. He glanced distastefully at the grime. “Naturally, you’ll have to be washed first,” he muttered under his breath.

Ocnus looked to me in wide-eyed panic.

I made no move to stop Tam. “Where’s the Saghred?”

When Ocnus didn’t answer, Tam lifted one of the little sorcerer’s arms speculatively. “Probably a bit stringy beneath the fat, but an overnight marinade should take care of that.” His dark eyes became dreamy as he ran a fingertip smoothly down the pasty underside of Ocnus’s arm. “Grandmother had the most delectable recipe,” he breathed. “The meat all but fell off the bone.”

“The goblin embassy,” Ocnus squeaked. “The mausoleum.”

“How do you know this?” Tam half pulled Ocnus from his chair, the sorcerer’s arm clutched tightly in his fist.

“A year ago there was an elf who wanted to get onto the embassy grounds.”

“Describe him,” came Mychael’s steady voice from the now open doorway.

Ocnus swallowed and looked from me to Tam.

“Do it,” I growled.

The goblin sorcerer licked his lips. “Gray eyes, gray hair, but he wasn’t old. He had more than enough gold, so I didn’t ask questions.”

Ocnus was panting. Just my luck he’d hyperventilate and pass out.

He took a deep, shuddering breath. “I brought him onto the grounds through The Ruins. He went into the mausoleum. He never came back out. I went in to look. He wasn’t there. There’s only one way in and I was watching it the whole time.”

I looked at Tam. “Mausoleum?”

“There’s a mausoleum on the property from the previous owners.”

“How do you know he carried the Saghred?” Mychael asked.

I felt the pull of a spellsinger in his words, compelling Ocnus to tell the truth. He need not have bothered. Ocnus was telling the truth, or at least what he thought was the truth. I think the beacon was helping things along. Once again, I was grateful.

“He had a small box made of white stone,” Ocnus said. “Like the box Nukpana had me hire Quentin to steal. Only this one was larger and square.” He held his hands about four inches apart, no easy task considering Tam still had one of those hands.

“How do you know there was anything inside?”

“Something was glowing, like a big firefly. Red, flickering.”

Mychael put a box of translucent white stone on the table in front of Ocnus. “Anything like this?”

Ocnus licked his lips again. “Exactly.”

“And Nukpana doesn’t know?”

Ocnus swallowed and shook his head.

Tam released Ocnus, but didn’t move away, instead looming ominously over the goblin snitch.

“I find it difficult to believe that you found a way to get even more gold out of Sarad Nukpana and yet you passed up the opportunity.”

Ocnus seemed to shrink in his chair. “Not at first. I overheard why he needed the beacon. You know, what he hoped to find with it. That’s when I remembered the elf and the stone box.” A twitching had taken up residence in Ocnus’s left eyelid. “So I set up another meeting with him. To make him an offer. That’s when I heard he knew about my deals with the prince. I didn’t go to the meeting.”

“Smart move,” I muttered.

“I was leaving town.”

“Even smarter.”

“My ship wasn’t leaving until the morning tide, so I went to the Sleeping Giant.” Ocnus tried his trademark oily grin on for size, but it just came off looking sick. “I’ve told you what you wanted to know. How about just letting me go? My ship leaves within the hour. I’ll be on it, I swear.” He looked from me to Tam, then to Mychael in growing desperation. “If I stay here, he’ll kill me.”

“If you’re lucky,” Tam told him.

Mychael looked into Ocnus’s eyes. The goblin snitch couldn’t look away. Mychael held the gaze for nearly a minute, until beads of sweat formed on Ocnus’s forehead. “I think he tells the truth. Raine?”

The beacon vibrated beneath my shirt, if I hadn’t known better I’d say someone was excited. I nodded and put my hand over the beacon. “It seems we agree.”

“You could go to the mausoleum now,” Ocnus told me eagerly. “Nukpana’s not in the embassy tonight.”

“Where is he?”

Ocnus’s eagerness changed to confusion. “I heard he was going nightingale hunting.”