As always, thanks very much for reading!
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I looked up the flight of marble steps at Farrahd’s home. The mansion was even grander than the Coltranes’, which was no great shock. They’d been in business for a longer time. What did surprise me was the dingy paint job and the unkempt flowerbeds. Either his gardener was hitting the bottle or the cash flow was beginning to dry up.
“You got the stuff?” I asked out of the corner of my mouth.
Imoen winked at me. “Of course I do. Stole it from his pocket the last time we met.”
“Good. Be careful in there. I don’t want to have to rescue you.”
“Puh-leeze. I can take care of myself. I’m an archmage, you know.”
I marched up the chipped steps while Imoen headed around back. After a few moments to let her make her move, I pounded on the door.
A brick hithouse of a man answered. He looked down his nose at me. “Yes?” he barked.
I could see I’d have to be careful with this one. He was packing heat, two wicked looking wands jammed in his belt. So I played it straight. “I’m here to see Yusef Farrahd.”
The man looked me up and down with a quick flick of his tiny dark eyes. “My master is a very busy man. Why should he see you?”
“Why don’t you give him my name and find out? It’s Sar…”
“I know who you are.” He took a step forward and thrust his face into mine. “And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll go while the going’s good.”
I laughed in his face. “That’s real good. Did you think that up all by yourself?”
He wasn’t impressed. “A wise guy, eh? Beat it. Now.”
“I’m not going anywhere. Now run along and let your master know I want to see him. I haven’t got all day.”
He swore and went for his wands, but I got there first. I grabbed his wrist and twisted. The wand fell from his nerveless fingers and I caught it with my other hand. He tried to point the other wand at me, but I caught his forearm and wrenched it back. He screamed as I spun him around and slammed him into the wall. Hard. I did it a few more times, enough to knock him silly. Imoen wanted a distraction, not a bloodbath.
Keeping a tight hold on his arms, I shoved the butler through the open door and into the hall. Two guards came out of a room at the end of the hall. They drew their blades, and I pointed the wands at them with my free hand. The butler, whey-faced and sweating, barked something at them. They froze and let us enter the parlor.
Farrahd sat in a leather armchair before the blazing fireplace. He was huddled in a mass of thick blankets, but was still shivering. He jumped to his feet as we entered.
“Hello, Farrahd,” I said, giving his butler an extra shove. The man stumbled forward, landing on his knees with a gasp. “Nice doorman you got here. You ought to trade up. It would be a real shame if anything happened to your place.”
The butler opened his mouth to make a smart comment. Farrahd jerked his head in the direction of the door, and the butler closed his mouth and went. Farrahd then turned his dark gaze on me. He’d lost weight over the past year. He looked like a walking skeleton.
“What are you doing here, Sarevok?” he asked. “Why do you invade my home in this uncouth fashion?”
“I think you know why.” I handed him the wands, business end first.
He had a good poker face. “I thought we were friends.”
“Don’t give me that. You needed some chump to find your wife and I needed a meal ticket.”
His eyes glittered. “Perhaps we could sit down and discuss this matter like civilized men.”
I shrugged. “You’re the boss.”
While he rustled up some drinks, I glanced around the room. It was a lot more to my taste than Mirielle’s pink parlor. The walls were lined with dark wood and expensive art, and the leather chairs begged me to sit down and have a smoke. So I sat down and did just that. A movement in the corner nearly startled me into a cough, but it was just Imoen settling behind a fancy screen. She winked at me before nudging the screen between us.
Farrahd brought me a glass of expensive wine, which I appreciated. At least he wasn’t cheap with his booze.
“To business,” he said, raising his glass.
“To business.”
We clinked glasses and drank. The wine slid down my throat like red silk. I didn’t say no to another.
“I see you like my wine.”
The second glass disappeared as quickly as the first. “You have good taste, Farrahd. Though I didn’t know you collected paintings. I thought you collected corpses.”
Farrahd raised an eyebrow. He was a cool customer. “What an interesting choice of conversation, Sarevok. You must shine at parties.”
“Can it, Farrahd. You know why I’m here.”
“Perhaps I do,” he admitted.
“That’s nice. I like it when that happens. Now spill it.”
He shook his head. “I have nothing to say. I am sorry, of course, that such a worthy competitor has passed on, but I had nothing to do with it. And I resent the implications that one such as I would deign to perform this lowly deed.”
“That’s your story, is it?” I kept my eyes peeled for the faint shimmer of magical energy.
“Do you have a better one?”
“I think maybe you had an idea to whack the competition. That’s what I think.”
He looked at me like I'd grown a second head. “You are insane, Sarevok. Completely insane.”
There it was. A golden mist hung in the air above Farrahd’s head. “Did you do it, Farrahd? Did you kill Kelsey Coltrane?”
Farrahd opened his mouth and froze. There was panic in his eyes as he said, “Yes.”
I waited a moment for his trembling to subside. It was too soon for him to break free. Imoen’s Interrogation Spell was useful, but fragile. If Farrahd struggled hard enough, he could shake it off before I got what I wanted to know.
“You were the one who shot him? Or did you hire someone?”
“No, no, I couldn’t trust a servant with the job.” Farrahd was sweating more than an ice sculpture on a sunny day. “Delegation has its place, but when you want something done right, you must do it yourself.”
I stood up and went to the bar. Pouring another glass of wine, I asked, “Why did you do it?”
“Because she ruined me, Mirielle and that unnatural sorcerous husband of hers! Business was…not so good since my father and sister died, and I had to try to keep it going. After years of struggle I was finally on top again, and then the Coltranes came and took it all away from me! I had to do something! And it was a chance to avenge them…”
“Avenge who?”
Farrahd struggled to his feet, his face ashen. “She did it…she told me…she…she…”
A drop of sweat beaded on his forehead, and the fog of magic began to dissipate. Damn, Imoen was losing him. The broken threads of energy above Yusef’s head were my warning.
“Tell me! Quickly!”
There was a squawk from behind the screen. We both turned to see Imoen lifted into view by unseen hands. I glared at the door. The butler stood there, smirking at me. It looked like he’d found a friend. A sinister looking mage with a nice manicure and a nose ring. I guessed he was the one responsible for Imoen’s discovery.
I moved towards them, but my knees buckled halfway. I fell onto the plush carpet. Damn. The wine. Never drink a suspect’s wine. Imoen was right. The booze was going to kill me after all.
Heavy footsteps sounded all around me. I looked up into a ring of swords. The guards’ faces were grim, and I could see nothing good in store for Imoen or myself.
Farrahd smiled, cold and cruel. “Get him out of here, and don’t forget the scrawny witch. I have nothing more to say to either of them.” He began to laugh. It was the last thing I heard as something hit me hard on the back of the skull and the world faded to black.
