Verci came up to the table. “When Tarvis saw him, he made a sound like . . . I’ve never heard a person make that sound.”
“So what’s going to happen to him, once he’s recovered?” Delmin asked. “There’s orphanages, or the church, or—”
“He won’t take any of that,” Verci said. “I mean, his instinct is to escape. That’s probably why he got away from whoever took him. He’s ready for you all.”
Veranix finished the strikers—which were quite good, he had to admit—and followed Verci upstairs to the room. The little boy—and saints, he was tiny—was lying on the bed, pale as a Poasian, while a woman sat next to him holding a damp cloth to his head. Asti said this boy was six years old? He looked like he was four.
“Hey, Tarvis,” Asti said. “How are you?”
“Angry,” Tarvis said. “I rutted up and lost Telly.”
“Who’s Telly?” Veranix asked.
“Who are these ninces?” Tarvis asked.
“We’re here to find out what happened to you, stop the people who did it,” Veranix said.
“You ninces?” Tarvis asked. “You ain’t got nothing that can handle these rutters.”
“That guy’s the Thorn,” Asti said. “He’s in disguise.”
Tarvis peered at him. “I don’t see it.”
Veranix remembered this kid now. He was with the other kids who had helped him and Mila. So was Telly. “Telly got taken, too?”
“Got taken. Couldn’t get him out. Him or any of the others.” Tarvis whimpered a little. “He told me to run, so I ran. Shouldn’t have left him. But that guy, that giant, I couldn’t kill him. Couldn’t even hurt him.”
Veranix sat down next to him on the bed. “What do you mean?”
“I stabbed him,” Tarvis said. “My knife didn’t even go through his skin.”
“Wait, was this a person?” Veranix asked.
“Didn’t seem like one. Barely spoke like one.”
“He spoke?” Verci asked.
“Yeah. ‘Gurond take children. Take them for the Brotherhood.’”
“The who?” Asti asked. His face looked like it was ready for violence.
“You heard me,” Tarvis said.
“All right,” Veranix said. “And he was the one who grabbed you and Telly? Where? And where did he take you?”
“We were by the abandoned factory, across the creek,” Tarvis said. Veranix glanced to Asti and got a small nod—he knew where it was. “The bastard just came out of nowhere, grabbed us both, and took us into a tunnel to the sewers. Kept going, deeper.”
“How deep?” Asti asked.
“I don’t rutting know, deep,” Tarvis snapped.
“When you came up, did you go up a slope, steps, a ladder?” Asti asked.
“All of ’em,” Tarvis said. “Like I said, deep. I don’t even know all of how I got up. It was a blur. I just knew I had to—”
He paused and looked at Asti.
“You found me, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, in the alley.”
“Dumbest thing,” Tarvis said. “I was down there, hungry, dying, blind in the dark. Lost. But I knew I had to get out to find you.” He growled a little. “I don’t even like you, Rynax.”
“You remember where you came out?” Verci asked.
Tarvis shook his head. “Nothing. I was down in the dark, and it’s a blur ’til I woke up here.” Another growl, this one more aimed at Veranix. “I’m tired. Get out. Let me sleep.”
Veranix got up off the bed and went to the door, everyone else following behind him, none of them speaking until they returned to the taproom.
“So what’s the plan?” Delmin asked when they sat down.
“What does he bring to this?” Asti asked, pointing to Delmin.
“He’s the best damn magical tracker in the city,” Veranix said. “If any of this involves magic at all, Delmin can sense it.”
Delmin shrugged. “I mean, maybe. Is the idea we go to this factory, find this sewer entrance, and . . . see where it takes us?”
“Sewers and tunnels under this part of town are extensive,” Asti said. “I mean, the city has got all sorts of catacombs and quarry digs, and . . . around here, some of the old street bosses built all sorts of tunnels and passageways using them. Nobody knows it all.”
Verci nodded. “He’s done a bit of mapping.”
“I know enough to know there’s a lot I don’t know,” Asti said.
“Right,” Veranix said. “But I know one thing: Telly and who knows how many other kids are still down there. I’m going to try to find them. The question is, am I doing it alone?”
Delmin grabbed Veranix’s arm and squeezed. “No, you stupid fool.”
“I’m with you,” Asti said. He had clearly been stewing on something Tarvis said, either Gurond or the Brotherhood. He glanced at Verci and his wife. “You stay up here, though. I’ll mark our path on the way down and if we’re gone too long, you get everyone you can for a rescue party.”
“That’s a good plan,” Verci’s wife said.
“That’s what I’m good for, right?” Asti said.
Veranix stood up, feeling flushed with the same serenity he had received from the cloistress’s prayer. This felt right, and now was the time to move. “Let’s get to work, then.”
Satrine couldn’t think at her desk, partly because Kellman was tapping his stylus while he read over the report on one of the murder cases they had caught yesterday. It had been a straightforward investigation. The victims had been identified, and with a few choice questions to the folks in their lives, it had been simple to ascertain the guilty party: one victim’s husband. The husband had tried to run when they confronted him, so Satrine had to tackle and restrain him. That was engaging.
“Yeah, I think this is good,” Kellman said. “I think Protector Hilsom will agree it’s a solid case.”
“Of course it is,” Satrine said. “What’s next?”
“There’s the Landorick murder,” he said, holding out the file folder. The other murder from yesterday.
She scowled as she took it from him. “I don’t think there’s anything there. It looks like he was stabbed by a purse thief. I mean, tragic, but there’s nothing to work with.”
“Commissioner’s office asked that someone here look into it.”
“That’s just because Landorick used to be an
