Tales From the Crucible by Charlotte Llewelyn-Wells

Author:Charlotte Llewelyn-Wells [Llewelyn-Wells, Charlotte]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781839080241
Publisher: Aconyte
Published: 2020-08-31T23:00:00+00:00

Hub City prison was spare, but not horrifyingly grim. At least, the one run by the High Council itself. Some districts maintained their own, and a few of those were better not spoken of. Assuming the octogrix took you alive for violating their Eight Edicts, few would enjoy the “re-education” that followed. These cells were well maintained and clean, lit by high barred windows to let natural sunlight in.

They came in a wide variety, suited to the panoply of creatures they had to be able to contain. Sealed tanks for holding aquans, soil-floored pits to allow phylls to root, and even extra-large chambers for Brobnars who got even more out of hand than usual. The Logos had been persuaded to set up a monitor system to track them all, making sure there were no breaches in security and that no one ended up in too bad of a way.

Inspector Virdon was watching one of those screens with a frown. The figure of the elf thief, once called “The Slip” and now known to be Nalea Wysasandoral, was curled up on the bed of her cell. Her wounds had been treated, and she’d been fed and allowed to clean herself. Now she slept fitfully.

“You do not seem pleased, Inspector,” came that reedy voice from behind him.

Virdon glanced back with a sad smile. “Don’t get me wrong, Master Talus, I congratulate you on your success. You live up to your reputation. I’m just sad to see such a free spirit caged, I suppose. I wish she’d chosen a different path.” The human shook his head, dismissing the thoughts. “What brings you? I figured you would be off being feted, or on to your next case.”

The sylicate hmmed softly and nodded. “I see. Well, I must speak with the prisoner.”

“Why?” asked Virdon. “She was obviously the thief.”

“No, nothing like that,” replied Talus. “She has requested to speak to me, and I am curious what she could have to say.”

Virdon frowned and scratched his jaw, glancing to where the day guard sat.

“If you prefer, I could have Councilor Learmont arrange–”

“No,” said Virdon hastily. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll take you in to see her now. I’ll escort you myself.”

The sylicate smiled and nodded. “Thank you kindly, Inspector. Your presence will be reassuring.”

Virdon returned the smile and gathered the keys, guiding Talus within. They continued down the corridors past various other prisoners until they reached where the elf was being held.

The inspector tapped on the bars of the cell. “Wysasandoral, you have a visitor.” As she stirred, he stepped off to the side.

The elf rolled over and frowned blearily. “You–”

“Yes,” Talus interjected. “You wished to speak with me?”

The thief frowned and rose to her feet. “I suppose I did. I have questions.” She glanced uneasily towards Virdon.

“What makes you think I have any answers for you?” asked the sylicate scornfully.

The venom, however restrained, startled the inspector. It seemed to do the same to the elf. She withdrew a step.

“Who are you?”

“Talus. They call me the Thief-Taker.

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