at Seregil, the way the sight of Brader in disguise had.
On the table were a thick tallow candle in a cracked dish, a small workman’s box, sticks of green sealing wax, a basket of corks, and a waste bowl that held what looked like a few used seals made of the same green wax. Opening the
workman’s box, Seregil found a small collection of delicate tools and a worn copper stylus gone green with age, except for the tip, which glinted red where it had been recently sharpened.
“Hmm. There’s a bit of wax on the stylus.” He glanced over at the sealed bottles. Sure enough, they had some sort of writing in the wax and Thero appeared to be quite interested in them. “I wonder what these jeweler’s tools are for?”
Alec peered up over the edge of the table from whatever he’d been looking at under there. “Maybe for these?” He stood and triumphantly placed a large open casket on the table between them. Inside was a glistening collection of rings, earrings, necklaces, brooches, every piece of the finest quality and every one of them tagged with a slip of parchment tied on with a blue silk thread. Each slip bore a name in Atre’s elegant, precise handwriting. “He’s made it easy for us.”
“Illia’s ring must be in here!” Before Seregil could stop him, Micum upended the casket, spilling jewelry across the table and sorting frantically through it with help from Seregil and Alec.
Alec picked up a large ruby ring tagged with the name RYLIN and a silver brooch set with carnelian. This one was tagged EONA.
“Lord Rylin, most likely,” Seregil murmured, taking the ruby ring and weighing it in his palm. “I’m quite sure I’ve seen him wearing it. And this must be from Laneus’s widow, Eona.”
“Let me see it,” said Thero. He held the brooch a moment and nodded. “Yes, I can still sense her energy on it quite clearly. Her aunt gave it to her when she was eleven.” With that he turned back to his inspection of the racks.
“Here’s one from Selin,” said Alec, holding up a thin gold chain.
“Illia’s ring isn’t here!” Micum groaned when they’d inspected every piece.
“Or Elani’s brooch,” said Seregil.
“There’s another box down here.” Alec reached under the
table and brought up a plain wooden chest. This one was larger, and secured with nothing more than a crude hasp.
“This looks old.” Alec opened it, then hissed sharply through his teeth when he saw what was inside. Broken toys and carved nutshells. A necklace made of a single seashell on a bit of dirty string. A crudely cast tin ring. Maybe a hundred bits and pieces that one might find in a gutter or midden, and locks of hair held together with little dabs of wax. None of these were labeled, but one of the locks was a distinctive white-blond, and dirty.
“Kepi said he traded a lock of hair,” said Alec.
Thero touched it. “A sharp-faced little urchin.”
“That’s him.”
Micum emptied it out beside the jewels and pawed through them, looking for his daughter’s silver ring.
Thero turned to inspect the contents of the racks as the others sifted through the contents of the plain box.
“It’s not here, either!” Micum said at last.
“I think I know why,” Thero replied, holding up a sealed bottle. “All of these I’ve looked at so far contain things like those. Her ring could be in one of them.”
He held the bottle up to the light. The thick, crudely made glass looked old, and was full of striations and bubbles, but they could make out what looked like a small braid of hair floating inside. Seregil took another from the rack. The liquid in this one was milky, but he could see the outline of a hog’s tooth when he held it to the light.
He passed it to Alec. “Didn’t that boy you had the yellow stone from say he traded a hog’s tooth?”
“Yes!”
“So this is what they’re doing with them. We’ve got to find Illia’s ring,” said Micum. “We need to check every damn one of them.”
Beginning at the top of the left-hand rack, he took out one after another and held them up to his lightstone, like a poultry farmer candling eggs. Thero and the others did the same.
“Do you feel that same magic on them?” asked Seregil.
Thero nodded.
“And you didn’t feel this weird magic on any of the other actors except Brader?” asked Micum.
“I thought I felt something like it at Alec’s party that night,” the wizard replied.
“And only Atre was there, not Brader,” mused Seregil. “So whatever this is, it involves at least the two of them.”
“Atre said he and Brader were traveling together before they met the others up in the northlands,” said Alec. “Didn’t he say the two of them are related, Seregil?”
“Cousins, I think. So this might only be the two of them.”
Alec picked up from the table a ring marked OLIA. “Why is he marking only the expensive pieces?”
“I think because of this,” said Micum. He held out an empty bottle, showing them the small parchment label affixed to its side with a few drops of wax, with a name inscribed on it.
“Laneus!” Alec exclaimed, taking it from him. “But he didn’t show any sign of the sleeping death.”
“Unless his family hushed it up,” said Seregil. Pulling out another labeled phial, he sighed. “Or not. This one’s labeled ALAYA.” Seregil held it up for them to see. “And here’s one for Kyrin. Since they all died suddenly, perhaps the sleeping part isn’t always necessary.”
“And judging by these, then it may not need to be a trade,” mused Thero. “Just something freely given. That opens up some disturbing possibilities.”
“Look here,” said Micum, holding out another empty bottle, labeled KYLITH.
Seregil gave it a sorrowful look. “Kylith was going to end her patronage and he killed her. And Laneus insulted him, sending him to eat in the kitchen.”
Alec pulled out another of the empty ones and let out a groan. “Myrhichia. But why her?”
“And why Illia?” Micum asked bleakly, going back to his search. “Why would he want to hurt an innocent girl?”
“Probably the same reason he killed all those innocents in the Lower City,” Seregil replied. “What in Bilairy’s name is he doing with these?”
“Whatever it is, Seregil, Elani gave him gifts, too-that ring he always wears, and a brooch!” Alec reminded him.
Seregil nodded grimly, thinking,
“Hmm, the marks on these are different,” Thero said, peering at the seals on two bottles. “See this ring of symbols around the edge of the seal on this one with the marble in it, with a space in the center? This other one, with a lock of hair in it, is cloudy inside, and the center has been filled in with another symbol.”
“Two different magics?”
“Certainly there’s some difference, though the outer ring is the same on both.”
“What do you think will happen if you open them?” Alec asked.
“I must examine them more closely, and under better conditions than these.”
“And you’re sure it’s what you felt on Atre and Brader?”
“Yes.” Thero frowned. “One or both of them are the maker of these.”
“You’re sure it’s not necromancy or alchemy?” asked Alec. “Because it certainly looks like one or the other to me.”
“It doesn’t have that particular stench to it. The closest I can come to it is the shamanic magic of the hill people.”
“Your friend Miya suggested it was Zengati,” said Seregil.
“Not any that I’ve ever encountered. But it could mean that Atre or someone with that magic was in Zengat at some point.”
“That was four centuries ago!”
Thero shrugged.
