Dragon Precinct by Keith R. A. Decandido

Author:Keith R. A. Decandido [Decandido, Keith R. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: General, Fantasy, Fiction, Media Tie-In
ISBN: 9780743467704
Google: opOGHFVaoAAC
Amazon: 0743467701
Publisher: Pocket Star
Published: 2004-07-27T06:00:00+00:00

“Thanks very much for your assistance,” Torin told the elderly man for the third time.

“Eh? What?” The man blinked. “What was that, again? My what?”

Torin sighed. “Thank you, sir.”

“Oh, right, very good. Yes. You’re welcome.” Then the old man frowned. “For what, exactly?”

Again, Torin sighed. “Your assistance in our investigation.”

“Oh, right. Yes. Indeed.” The old man looked around. “I don’t know this place.”

“You’re in Jorbin’s Way,” Torin said helpfully.

The old man shook his head and started wandering off.

Shaking his head, Torin turned to Danthres and Boneen, who were walking up behind him. They stood in the center of Jorbin’s Way, right next to a dried-meat stand owned by an old woman who, if Torin recalled correctly, tended to mislabel her jerky. Boneen absently grabbed a sliver of something that was advertised as being from the finest breed of cattle in Velessa, but which Torin knew was in fact from the local goat population.

“Who was that?” Danthres asked.

“Witness. He said he saw the halflings drop dead while talking to a pair of gnomes. At least, he said that eventually. Poor old man’s half-addled, but he did say that the female gnome had dirt on her left cheek.”

Danthres nodded. “That more or less tracks with Hobart’s mole. We’ve already got some guards looking for them.”

“Good. And I’m glad we have Hobart for a witness—I’d rather not subject that old man to the magistrate if we can avoid it. It took him half an hour simply to remember what a gnome was. He’s even worse than—” Torin cut himself off.

“What is it?” Danthres prompted.

“I just realized that the man I just talked to bore a striking resemblance to two other witnesses. Not the same man, obviously—he’s about twenty years older than the second one and fifty years older than the first—but it is odd. That’s three different people who have similar physical appearances.”

“If you’re quite finished with these irrelevancies,” Boneen said irritably while chewing on his dried goat meat, “I thought you might like to know what I found.”

Torin grinned. “Let me guess—absolutely nothing?”

Scowling, Boneen said, “Yes. Same as Brightblade and lothSirhans. First one, then the other fell down without any outside agency helping them along. No evidence of magic of any kind.”

“You should examine these bodies carefully then,” Torin said. “I’ve never known a grifter who didn’t have some kind of magic on them. It’s almost part of the job description.”

“Definitely,” Danthres said. “Hobart said they were moderately talented, which means they were probably very good and he just wouldn’t admit it.”

“Oh, that’s just what I need, more work.” Boneen took another bite of jerky. “Bad enough that Albin and Meerka keep sending their flunkies to hound me, now you want me examining halfling remains.”

“If you’re fishing for sympathy, you’ll get nothing from us,” Danthres said. “Those flunkies are tap-dancing on our spleens as well.”

“The next one gets turned into a newt, I can tell you that. Hurry up and solve this damned case, will you? I haven’t had a proper nap in days.

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