Eberron: The Lanternlight Files, Book 02 - When Night Falls by Parker DeWolf

Author:Parker DeWolf [DeWolf, Parker]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-7869-4792-8
Publisher: Fanversion Publishing
Published: 2017-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

The girl joined him at the doorway that led to the long pier on which they had both arrived at Cannith Tower. The same two guards as before were standing, and both bowed respectfully as Whitsun and Arianna passed through. A skycoach stood waiting at the far end of the pier.

“Where are we going now?” Whitsun growled. He stayed a step or two behind the girl.

“My offices. The Chronicle,” she threw back over her shoulder as she climbed into the coach. She had an air of triumph about her, one that clearly grated on Whitsun from the set of his face. “I need to give them notes on this murder. They’re expecting something juicy.”

Whitsun entered the coach more slowly, and it peeled away from the pier and circled, preparing to drop down between the spires of the upper city. He sat in silence, hands slowly working, his forehead wrinkled in thought. The girl beside him was also quiet. Finally, she said, “Poor Laspeera. You’d think she was the one being taken away from the Tower, the way “she howled when I left. Too bad. It would do her good to be tossed into a tavern in Firelight. I wonder what they’d make of her there.”

Whitsun looked at her. “What did they make of Mesharra Cannith the first time you walked into a tavern?”

“Don’t—” She bit it off. “Don’t use that name.”

He chuckled without mirth. “As you wish. But seriously, what was the reaction when you came down to the Chronicle and said, ‘Hello, I’m one of House Cannith. I’d like to try being a chronicler, please?’ ”

“They don’t know who I am. And it’s going to stay that way. I’ve told them that I was raised in Tavick’s Landing.”

“And they believed that?” Whitsun hooted. “The Chronicle’s even more unreliable than I would have thought. Your accent’s not even close.”

She looked embarrassed. “I don’t know what they believed. The point is, they gave me a job and didn’t ask too many questions.”

Whitsun nodded. “And so now you’re investigating… what? The murders? The agitation in the city’s lower classes? Or do they send you out to do stories about bones and stones houses?”

“Oh, shut it!” She turned away from him and stared furiously at the passing buildings. Finally, she turned back. “What about you? Whitsun. I never heard that name, but my uncle seems to know it. Why is that?”

Whitsun looked at the scenery. “We’ve done some business in the past.”

“What kind of business?”

“The kind that you don’t talk about afterward. And you’re not going to get more out of me about it, so don’t try.” His tone was final.

She was silent for a bit, then asked, “Is Whitsun really your name? Or did you make that up, like Porllas?”

“It’s the name you can call me. I happen to disagree with your uncle about names. Names are like clothes. Choose the one that fits you best in the morning, and if you don’t like it in the afternoon, put on another. Whitsun will do fine for now as far as you’re concerned.

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