The Gold in the Dark

Chapter Thirty-One

Murder and the ensuing chase—Thurie knew the two well, knew them as a pair that went hand in hand, never deviating from that order. And he hated it, hated that he couldn't peer through a window into the future and prevent the killing instead. Sometimes he wondered if a donation at one of Jopha's shrines would allow him to do just that; there was a reason why the goddess of dream's priests never lacked for funds. Yet though some people talked of receiving Jopha-sent visions, something told him it was all pig swill. Why would a goddess, on high in some mystical, unknown place, deign to guide the dreams of the local butcher or baker or retired guard's mute son?

So here they were again, running toward the screams. Maybe the city guard would catch the killer; maybe it would even be Thurie's drawing that led to his capture. The murderer would be clamped in shackles and given a proper death torturous enough to satisfy all of Hygot's fury.

But Thurie knew it wouldn't do anything to bring back those slain dancers.

He clutched tight to his father's coat as Dunna fought his way through the roiling, fleeing sea of people. Was it simply his father's old, ingrained gut reaction to catastrophe? Was it a need to show the men who had come calling that night long ago that he was still relevant, still fighting?

But it didn't really matter what the reason was. Dunna continued his slow, adamant progress through the panicked crowd, and Thurie's only choice was to follow in his father's slipstream, much as he longed to run in the opposite direction. They were a team, him and his father, and he would not leave him.

They had watched the dance and subsequent massacre from the back of the square, so by the time they arrived at the stage it was near-deserted, save for a few stragglers: a dancer vomiting in front of the stage while a friend held her hair, and a handful of gawking courtiers, too high-ranking to be sent away by the guards who'd swarmed the scene.

Thurie's attention jumped back to the sick dancer and her friend. He blinked. It was Tia Inkman and... her sister, by the look of it. She must be Pelas-blessed; that was the second close call with death she'd avoided.

Her fellow dancers had not been so lucky. Bodies littered the stage. A blackened corpse sprawled at the front was still smoking—the dancer who had caught her dress on fire and tripped off the stage in her panic. A scrap of blue silk, charred at the edges, flapped on a nail head; she'd torn her dress when she'd fallen off. Had she died when the flames raced over her body? Or had she still been alive when the bombs detonated, killed by a piece of shrapnel?

"Gery!" his father called, his booming voice drawing everyone's attention.

"Dunna," replied the captain, sighing as he stood up from his squat over one of the bodies on stage. He jumped down and closed the distance between them. "It's not the right time. We'll send for you. I have a manhunt going on throughout the city, a furious king and queen—both unhurt, praise the gods."

"Nonsense—we won't get in anyone's way. Just have a witness or two meet us in the station. The time to get this done is right now, while the bastard's face is fresh in everyone's memory."

The captain drew in a long breath, held it a second. "There's something to that reasoning." He drew closer, voice dropping to a murmur. "Gods willing, we'll catch him soon and have no use for the sketch. I shouldn't be telling you this... but I'm sure the news will be on everyone's lips before long. They found the killer's dagger at the scene. Both that and the knife he threw look like they're of Corimian make."

Thurie shuddered, though it wasn't from the cold. He huddled in closer to his father's cloak.

"Corimian?! A sympathizer? A spy?"

"Gods only know. We're living in strange times." The captain spat on the ground.

Dunna jerked his head toward the lingering courtiers, who were talking animatedly amongst themselves despite the corpses not twenty paces away. "They must have been close to the stage. Could they sit down with us for a chat?"