Brand of Light by Ronie Kendig

Author:Ronie Kendig [Kendig, Ronie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Christian, Science Fiction, Space Opera
ISBN: 9781621840947
Publisher: Enclave Publishing
Published: 2019-12-03T06:00:00+00:00

23

ZLARES, CENON

Some smells Marco couldn’t ignore no matter how hard he tried. They demanded action, honor, justice. Such was the scent of murder. It clung to the perpetrator like no other.

Yet what was he to do when that scent led him to someone who could upend the very tenuous peace keeping the quadrants in check?

Tucked in the shadows of a bar, Marco knuckled his mouth, watching the man drinking to excess. He believed he’d gotten away with his crime. There was truth in that—Ares was dead. And as of this minute, the murderer was not in custody.

Nor would Marco take him in. He could not. A thin loophole of the Kynigos Code. There was a reason for the Codes and hunting only by Decree. A hunter delivering his own justice could destroy the system that had been in place since space flight first came to Kynig.

Yet the death of Ares had to be connected to what happened on Drosero. A medora and two powerful leaders, all set against Droseran colonization, died within months of each other. And the girl—was she a casualty or a contributor? The Iereans, who were even less politically inclined than Kynigos, were adamant of her innocence.

With a belch, the killer stumbled out of the bar and into the busyness of the city.

Marco exited and went in the opposite direction. Turned left and sprinted to the end of the street. He tic-tacked up the corners of two buildings, gripped the ledge, and hauled himself onto the rooftop. Hustling across, he ran in a crouch. He slunk along the edge and spotted the killer trudging up the winding road to a well-lit café, where he bought a pint of warmed cordi. Marco used the moment to capture a vid. With that shiny piece clearly visible on his shoulder. The man downed the drink then headed to a small building attached to the chancellor’s residence.

Well, well. What was this?

Marco’s mind ran a dozen different courses, most leading to one conclusion: the chancellor was in bed with Symmachia. But these days, who wasn’t? Except Drosero. Though, he’d wager his living someone on Drosero had bedded them. It would explain much.

He again grabbed a capture, then waited until the man went inside before skipping across rooftops to the historical district, a quiet neighborhood populated by ergatis, the working class. Perched on a turret, he peered across the alley to a hostel and the upper-level flat. The Droserans sat on the rooftop terrace, talking.

Their voices were quiet but there was no mistaking their angry scents. Silver-haired Ixion was talking to the eldest son of the murdered Xanthus, who no doubt would assume leadership of the clan. An argument rose and escalated, though Ixion sought to quell the rising tempers. A quarter hour later, the Xanthus left and Ixion alone remained on the terrace.

What drove this man? How could he—

“Did you have need to speak with us or do you just like to watch?”

Marco felt a grin. “The view from here is better.” He must give care not to be overheard regarding this endeavor.

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