James Davis: Circle of Skulls

"The rorden thinks you may be of use somehow, though I cannot imagine why." Dregg stared down his nose at the deva. "Perhaps he is more desperate than I thought."

Jinn clenched his fists and half turned back to the gate, determined not to fall prey to the man's baiting. Should he strike an officer under Allek's command in full view of a Watch patrol, he would find his task in Sea Ward doubly difficult to accomplish. Collecting himself, he raised his hand again to the gate, assuming their conversation to be at an end.

"Careful," Dregg said. "They'll not just let any stray from off the street darken their doorstep."

"Indeed," Jinn replied and quickly traced a sigil over the gate latch, the iron glowing softly where he touched it before producing an audible click. As the gate swung inward, Jinn stepped inside, turning to close it behind him and adding, "I trust I'll not see you within, Swordcaptain Dregg."

He left the human glowering at his back as he calmly made his way through the wizards' well-tended courtyard, measuring his stride beneath the tall towers of the House of Wonder. Dregg joined his patrol at length and disappeared down the street. Jinn stared after him, composing himself before entering the house and wondering when he might encounter the swordcaptain again.

He had a feeling that no matter when it occurred, it would be far too soon.

The tall, ornate doors of the House of Wonder opened with a welcoming rush of warm air but left Jinn standing alone in the shadowed entrance hall. Though it was late, enchanted candles still flickered in sconces along the walls, scents of jasmine and sandalwood drifted on the air, and voices echoed softly nearby in whispered conversation. The distinct hiss of turning pages drew his eye to an archway at the far end of the hall, the main library, where he might begin his search for the origins of the sigils that had been carved on Alma's stomach, but he stood still, not venturing beyond the dark, patterned carpet within the front doors. The House of Wonder was not without its guardians.

In moments the air before him thickened, wavering as a misty shape coalesced an arm's length away. White eyes stared at him from a nearly featureless face, though he could see, through the specter's haze, the fading details of a once-proud wizard in long, flowing robes. An unnatural chill surrounded the ghostly figure as it regarded him blankly.

He repeated the sigil he had traced on the gates, drawing it in the air.

The specter nodded and faded away. As it did, the whole of the hallway shimmered, an illusion giving way to reality. The arching doorways changed places on the walls, and the length of the hallway doubled, revealing yet more doors and a tall, winding staircase at the end. Jinn smiled at the old magic, putting his meeting with Swordcaptain Dregg to the back of his mind, and made his way to the library's familiar arch, on the opposite wall from where it had appeared earlier and more brightly lit than before.

Several figures sat huddled over old tomes, their faces lit by the house's seemingly endless supply of enchanted candles. No one looked up at his arrival, too engrossed in their studies or quiet conversations to bother themselves with guests. He turned to the tall windows in the southern wall. Where one might have expected to find a view of the surrounding gardens, the high wall, and the city skyline beyond, the windows showed only rolling fields of waving grass beneath a brilliant, moonlit sky full of stars. A familiar figure in simple, dark blue robes stood before the easternmost window, twisting a long braid of dark red hair through her fingers as she gazed upon the false stars, her moon elf skin almost glowing in the illusory light.

Jinn took a deep breath, and though he approached her quietly, she turned almost as if she were expecting him. Her pale blue eyes regarded him without the least bit of surprise.

"I had not thought to see you so soon, Jinnaoth," she said, "though the stars have, of late, told me otherwise."

"Quessahn," Jinn said quietly. "I am sorry to disturb you, but-"

"No, you are not," she said sharply with a tight smile. "You are a single-minded bastard with little thought for anyone or anything that gets in your way."

Jinn noticed several nearby students look up, eyeing the pair before returning to their studies. He bit back a curse and wondered if he had made a mistake. It would not be the first time where Quessahn was involved.

"Then I pray you forgive my futile attempt at formality," he replied.

"No, it suits you, despite all." Quessahn turned and motioned him toward the hallway where they could speak without disturbing the others. "What brings you here?"

"Murder," he said, measuring his words and seeing no need to mention Sathariel or the Vigilant Order just yet. "A series of them."

"All in the last month or so," she added. "Yes, the Watch keeps many secrets at times, but this is one they've been hard pressed to maintain."

"How many others know?" Jinn asked, already imagining doubled Watch patrols, curfews, wealthy families abandoning their manors for other homes while adventurous sightseers sneaked through the streets hoping to glimpse the murderer, all the things that might make his job that much more difficult.

"Know? Only myself that I'm aware of," Quessahn answered, leading him farther down the hallway, where a smaller extension of the library lay empty. "But rumors spread, about missing people-kidnappings, ambitious sons and daughters unwilling to wait for inheritances, and the like."

"And how do you know they are anything more than just rumor?" he asked.

"I saw," she said plainly. "Three of the bodies, recently, but only at a distance. The Watch had already arrived with dark sheets and sawdust to clean the blood. It seemed as though they had things under control, so I never bothered to ask. I doubt they would have wanted my help anyway."

Relief trickled into his thoughts, though he had suspected the wizards had known about the murders all along, as he had almost hoped they knew of Sathariel. He paced to the window, plotting how he might catch a killer that could be anyone-and wondering if the effort would only be a waste of time. There was no assurance the angel or the order were involved at all.

"I expect that if you are here, there is more than just blood on the ground," Quessahn said, pulling him from his thoughts. The unspoken question sparkled in her eyes, but there was also accusation in their sky blue depths. She'd worn a similar expression before, shortly after they'd met a few years earlier, but Jinn was never sure where her suspicion had come from nor her strange familiarity with him. She spoke to him as if she'd known him all his life. He never asked why, and she never offered explanations.

He pulled the sketches from his coat and handed them to her wordlessly, unwilling to lie but not yet ready to divulge the full truth. She turned the pages slowly with a troubled expression, tracing the symbols.

"They are old," she said. "Older than me. Arcane to be sure, but something else taints the way they are rendered, markings where there should be none, almost like two languages overlapped."

"Also, what do you know of a circle of skulls?" he asked.

"What?" she said. "The skulls?"

"Quessahn."

Jinn turned, finding a bearded man in dark robes standing in the doorway, dark eyes glowering at the elf under bushy, black eyebrows. A young man stood at the wizard's back, sneering over his shoulder at the startled pair.

"Archmage Tallus," Quessahn replied as she turned, hiding the sketches behind her back.

Tallus strode into the room, calmly looking Jinn up and down as he tapped a gnarled wooden staff on the floor with each step. Turning to Quessahn, he stopped, glancing between her and the deva.