Way Out West (The Markhat Files Book 10) by Frank Tuttle

Author:Frank Tuttle [Tuttle, Frank]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Sizzling Lizard Press
Published: 2016-09-10T04:00:00+00:00

One by one, my charges drifted off to bed.

Mrs. Krait was the last to go, delayed perhaps by composing the litany of insults she delivered on the way to her new compartment. My response—a cheery, “With bells on, I’m sure!”—garnered me a fierce glare that probably sent many a headwaiter scurrying, but we finders are made of sterner stuff.

With the last of the passengers abed, Evis sidled over and sat down beside me.

“Anybody aboard named Crutcher?” he asked in a whisper.

I shook my head no. “I assume you found something?”

“Crate with that name on it. Stuffed with these.” He pulled a folded waybill from his pocket and spread it open on the table.

TIDE TURNS AGAINST KINGDOM, it read. TROLL VICTORY BY YULE!

The date was more than a decade ago, during the grim mid-point of the War.

“There were hundreds in there, all from around the same time,” he said. “Somebody used them as packing for the box inside the box.”

“Which contains?”

“No idea,” he said. “Opening it would be tantamount to suicide. It’s a Triplett chest. A genuine Triplett chest.”

“Pretend for a moment I’ve never heard of a Triplett chest,” I said. “Elaborate.”

He smiled. “The House uses them extensively, to store our own valuables. They are sorcerous in nature. Intended to guard items of great value. As such, they can only be obtained at great expense. Whatever is inside this particular chest is no ordinary sack of ill-gotten gold.”

“But we can’t open it.”

He nodded. “Each chest carries a protective spellwork,” he replied. “Most often in the form of a virulent curse. Unless the chest’s spellwork is disengaged as the chest is opened, the curse is activated. Have you ever heard of Sellwith Hill?”

I rubbed my eyes. “No. Should I?”

“It is now called Sellwith Lake,” he said. “A century ago, a careless sorcerer in Avalante’s employ attempted to open a Triplett chest without the proper keys. The lake is said to be bottomless. That may in fact be true.”

“So we leave it where it is,” I said. A tiny seed of suspicion sprouted and began to grow. “Anything special about these Triplett keys?”

“Nothing visible. But this is a small chest. The lock is fitted with three small keyholes. I expect the keys themselves will be small as well.”

I fished in my pocket, removed the key I’d found on the dead man. “This small?”

Evis regarded it carefully. “Just so,” he said. “Although we’d have to put it in the lock to be sure. And since we lack the other two keys required, and we don’t know the order in which they must be inserted and turned, that would be inadvisable.”

I put the key away. “War-time waybills. A fancy sorcerer’s chest. A couple of dead bodies.”

“It has been an eventful day,” Evis agreed. “I sealed the larger crate, put it back where it sat. I cannot say whether or not my intrusion will escape the notice of the owner, if they are indeed a sorcerer.”

“I’d bet money they are. Three keys. Two bodies. The math is disturbing, especially if you subtract the dead Watchman.

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