of the alley to find help — but if he wasn’t there, how would they find him? If there was no sign he had been there, would that mean he had recovered, or that Kelder had lied?
Then the tinder caught, and he opened the lantern and carefully held the spark to the wick within. It caught, and light flared up.
Emmis lifted the lantern high, and peered into the alley.
Zhol was there, lying face-down in the dirt — and in a pool of dried blood.
There was no question at all — he was dead.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“You really killed him,” Emmis said, as he approached Zhol’s body with the lantern held high. “You bloody, pox-ridden fool, you killed him!”
“I told you,” Kelder mumbled from behind. His voice sounded weak and strained, presumably from the pain of his injury, but Emmis suspected that was exaggerated. Broken arm or not, Emmis was sure the murderous fool was looking for a chance to escape, and probably hoped to lull the guardsman into carelessness. He had undoubtedly retraced his steps, rather than coming here directly, to give himself more time to find a way to slip away — or to give his allies more time to find and free him.
And he had probably shown them where the body was as a distraction or delaying tactic, as well. He must have known Zhol was dead.
Emmis had hoped to find Zhol still with a spark of life in him, but surely no one could lose that much blood and live — and that was ignoring the visible, ragged, no-longer-bleeding hole in the back of Zhol’s neck, and the general appearance of the corpse. Zhol looked far more definitely dead than did the petrified Lar, back in Ithinia’s parlor.
For one thing, Emmis was fairly sure that some of the marks on Zhol’s outflung hand were rat bites — rat bites that hadn’t bled, meaning they were inflicted after death.
That was not a happy thought. His mouth tightened.
“You did that?” the live guardsman demanded.
“I told you,” Kelder repeated feebly.
“Then you’re a dead man. Come on, we’ll find a magistrate.”
“At this hour? Couldn’t I... go home, for tonight, and you...”
“Come on!” the guard insisted. “And you, too, as witness!”
Emmis turned, startled. “Me? But I need to get back to Lower Street! Lord Ildirin and Guildmaster Ithinia are waiting for me!” As he turned, the lantern-light sparkled momentarily off something; Emmis paused, and tried to locate the source of the glitter.
The lantern’s light was dim and uneven, but he spotted it quickly — a glass jar lay on the ground, half- hidden by a pile of weathered rubbish. Emmis stooped.
“Lord Ildirin?” the guardsman said. “What are you doing there?”
“I was helping Lord Ildirin negotiate with the Vondish ambassador,” Emmis said.
“No, I mean what are you... what do you have there?”
Emmis picked up the jar; it was cracked, but had only leaked a little, and still held at least half a pint of thick golden liquid.
“He bought that in Southmarket,” Kelder wheezed. “We thought it might be... I don’t know, something else, even though we saw him buy it, but it’s just honey. I wanted to keep it anyway, but Tithi threw it against the wall and cracked the bottle, so I left it.”
“Honey,” Emmis said bitterly. “Zhol died for this.” He held up the jar and said, “Assassin, here’s the honey I promised you.”
“Honey!” The jar was snatched from his hand, the brass lid ripped off it, and for a moment it hung in the air, glittering in the lantern’s light. Then the honey vanished with a loud sucking noise, and the empty jar fell to the alley floor and shattered.
“Was that enough?” Emmis asked.
Nothing answered.
Well, he told himself, either it was enough, or the creature was being difficult — perhaps its mouth was full. Either way, there wasn’t much he could do about it.
“We need to get you to a magistrate,” the guard said.
“What about the body?” Emmis asked.
“We’ll come back for it.”
That wasn’t right, Emmis knew it wasn’t right, he was utterly unwilling to leave Zhol’s remains lying there, but it took him a second to think of what he should say to explain this to the guard.
Then it came to him. “There are rats here,” Emmis pointed out.
The guardsman hesitated.
“You don’t need a witness,” Emmis said. “You heard him admit he killed him. He led us to the body. And if there’s any doubt, the magistrate can ask a witch, can’t he?”
“Witches cost money,” the guardsman replied doubtfully. “The magistrates don’t like spending money. But — you want to stay here?”
“No,” Emmis said. “I want to take the body back to Lower Street with me. Lord Ildirin is waiting for us; Zhol was one of his personal escort. Lord Ildirin and Ahan and Shakoph will want to know what happened to him, and they’ll know who to tell that he’s dead.”
That was all true — and it occurred to Emmis that they might want to talk to Zhol’s killer, as well. After all, he had been hired by the Lumethans; he might know something useful.
“I don’t know,” the guardsman said.
“He’s trying to trick you,” Kelder said weakly. “He wants to steal this man’s body.”
“Why would he want to do that?” the guard asked, puzzled.
“To sell the parts to wizards, probably,” Kelder suggested. “Don’t they use soldier’s hearts in some of their spells? Or a hand that’s held a sword?”
“Not that I ever heard of,” Emmis said. “Look, it’s really late — wouldn’t you need to wake up the magistrate, once you found him?”
“Yes, but that’s... it’s part of the job.”
“But it’s not as if anyone’s waiting for you to bring this killer in,” Emmis said. “Why don’t we all go talk to Lord Ildirin?”
“Don’t listen to him! What if there isn’t any Lord Ildirin? It could all be a trap...”
Emmis stared at Kelder. “What kind of a fool are you?” he asked. “If he takes you to a magistrate you’ll be hanged tomorrow. If you come with me, Lord Ildirin may keep you alive much longer than that, for questioning. He might even make you a deal for your life.”
Kelder’s mouth opened, then closed again, and he twisted his head to look at his captor.
The guardsman was clearly thinking hard.
“I can’t keep my hold on him and help carry the body,” he said.
“I’ll carry the body,” Emmis said. “I’m a dockworker, I’m good at carrying things.”
“To Lower Street? That’s all the way on the far side of New City Hill.”
Emmis sighed. “I know,” he said. “Maybe we’ll meet someone on the way who can help.”
The guardsman nodded. “All right, then,” he said. “That’s what we’ll do.”
“Just take me to the magistrate and get it over with,” Kelder muttered.
Emmis stared at him, and a realization struck — he had thought about it before, but had been too intent on finding Zhol to really think about it. “His partner,” he said. “That man Tithi. He’s trying to get you alone, away from me and the invisible monster, so his partner can ambush you and set him free. Or if not his partner, maybe the Lumethans who hired them.”
The guardsman gave Kelder a sideways glance. “You think so?”
“I do!”
