I walked the two blocks down Pasquine, keeping to the side of the street opposite Nigel’s house. I spotted Janek talking to someone who looked like he might be one of Nigel’s wealthy merchant neighbors. Janek saw me about the same time.
Chief Watcher Janek Tawl was human, Brenirian by birth, and a watcher by natural talent. People trusted Janek, even people who weren’t particularly trustworthy themselves. His knack for getting results had put him on the fast track to second in command of the watch in the Sorcerers District. That was as far as he wanted to go. Janek liked being on the streets with the people. He looked like a watcher. It wasn’t just that he was built like a soldier, all ropy muscle—it was an attitude. An attitude that said “Don’t even think about trying that in my District.”
Janek had helped me in the past, and I had given him more than a few leads. He was probably hoping for one or two more this morning, but I didn’t see myself being helpful, at least not yet. Janek could toss me in jail for where I had been last night, what I had done, what I was wearing around my neck, and how it had gotten there.
I crossed the street. One of the watchers charged with keeping the curious away moved to head me off. I pushed back my hood just enough for him to see my face, and he waved me through. Sometimes it’s nice to be recognized.
More than a few seekers found their way onto the city watch. Logical enough, I guess, since things and people manage to get themselves lost on a daily basis. The money seekers made on the watch wasn’t good, but it was steady. I’d admit to being tempted from time to time, but never any more than that. I’ve always had problems with orders—especially the taking and following part.
From what I could overhear, Nigel’s neighbor didn’t realize what had happened until this morning. Janek took a few notes, thanked the man for his time, and strolled over to me, shaking his head in amazement.
“Goblins demolish the bedroom, break most of the windows on the back of the house, and have a full-scale battle in the garden, and Master Owen doesn’t hear a thing.”
It was my turn to be amazed. “He was home?”
“Yes. He said he slept through the whole thing.”
“You believe him?”
“No one could sleep through that. Though from what we found in the garden and canal out back, part of me can’t blame him for wanting to turn a blind eye.”
“That bad?”
Janek tucked a small notebook into his belt. “Pretty grim. No one liked Nigel, but more than a few powerful people are suddenly interested in his well-being now that he’s missing.”
“Nigel’s missing?” That was news.
The watcher nodded. “And when powerful people are interested, the commissioner’s interested. Which means I’m supposed to find Nigel, and fast.”
“Easier said than done this week.”
“Yeah, he picked a hell of a time to make himself vanish,” Janek said. “The city’s crawling with foreign nobles, so it’s not like we don’t already have our hands full. Everyone’s working overtime, and the local criminals are the only ones who don’t mind.” He chuckled. “To add insult to injury, they’re making more money at it than we are. First time to the big city for a lot of the nobles, and they don’t have the sense to keep their purses and jewels to themselves. Our locals just can’t resist that much temptation.”
I could attest to the craziness. Alix had been run ragged for the past month with costume fittings for Mermeian social climbers invited to the goblin king’s masked ball. Costumes weren’t her normal business, but most of the better robe designers had expanded their services to meet the sudden demand. It was the only chance some would get to rub elbows with goblin royalty, and they weren’t about to miss the opportunity. It was the aura of danger even more than the prestige that drew many of them to the ball, but they’d be better off—and a lot safer—if they just stayed at home.
“Where was Nigel last night?” I asked.
“He was scheduled to do a séance for the Marquis of Timur. The marquis’ gondola arrived at Nigel’s dock at nine bells last night. Nigel got in, the gondola pulled away. Neither he, the boatman, nor the gondola have been seen since.”
“What did the marquis have to say?”
“All he could do is complain that he was missing his best gondola and boatman. I think he was more upset by losing the gondola.”
“Kidnapping?”
“That’s my guess. I’ve got men out looking for Nigel, the boatman, and the gondola, but so far we’ve come up empty on all counts. When I got here this morning, I found my men busier keeping people out than gathering evidence.”
“The curiosity factor’s bound to be high,” I said.
A grin spread across Janek’s unshaven face. “I wouldn’t call these people curious. Desperate is more like it. Riggs said they were doing a pathetic job of covering it up. A couple of them turned out to be servants of some rather highborn ladies—and a few highborn gentlemen. If Riggs was the bribe-taking type, he could have earned his retirement this morning.”
I remembered the viewing screen concealed in Nigel’s bedroom wall. I was willing to bet Janek’s men were going to find all sorts of interesting evidence, and most of it probably wouldn’t have a thing to do with last night. Good for me. Bad for the local aristocracy.
“You heard what happened?” Janek asked.
“Everyone’s heard.”
I didn’t give anything away with that. One good thing about lack of sleep, you only had one expression—tired. Janek was wearing the same one.
“Nigel’s not too popular with the locals, goblins included,” the watcher continued. “There are probably more than a few people waiting to help him into permanent retirement.”
“You think the goblins expected Nigel to be at home?”
Janek shook his head. “I’d say the break-in was for robbery, but with Nigel missing, there’s no way to find out for sure just what was stolen, if anything. One hell of a fight is about the only thing we can say for sure happened.”
He’d get no argument from me on that one.
“That and a Gate ripped into Nigel’s upstairs front hall. Messy one, too. Rush job, and they didn’t stay around to clean up the residuals.”
I knew it. “Any idea who made it?”
“The Khrynsani are in town, so they’re definitely suspect. But they’re not the only ones in Mermeia capable of creating a Gate.”
“Any mages or sorcerers missing lately?” I asked. “Besides Nigel?”
Janek knew where I was going with that. The person killed to fuel a Gate’s creation didn’t have to be magically talented, but it made for a stronger and more stable Gate if they were. If Sarad Nukpana had gotten his hands on a magic user, punching a hole into Nigel’s townhouse would have been a lot easier. The pickings were plentiful in Mermeia. Retired Conclave mages, sorcerers, seekers, healers, mediums, exorcists, conjurors—the list went on and on, from truly gifted individuals making an honest living, to the mediocre only looking to part the gullible from their coin. In Mermeia, there were ample customers for both—and both offered ample victims if a goblin grand shaman was out gathering Gate fuel.
Janek’s expression darkened. “Nigel’s the sixth to vanish this week.”
I blinked. “The sixth?”
“A medium vanished two days ago and a healer was reported missing just this morning. The other three were street magicians, simple folk the watch know.” Janek’s jaw clenched. “Regardless of who they are and what they do, they’re my people, my responsibility, and all the paper pushers downtown care about is making a good impression on the dignitaries in town for the week. I get pressured to solve the cases, and do it quick, but stay quiet while I do it.”
Anything could have happened to any of them, but this week Sarad Nukpana had come to town.
In addition to being one of Mermeia’s best watchers, Janek Tawl was a respectable, and respected, sorcerer. It was one of the reasons he worked in the District. Crimes involving sorcerers were best investigated by someone with more than a passing knowledge of magic, and compassion for its practitioners. Janek had both.