Trial by Flame

Chapter 35

It worked out better than he expected.

Trelisti and Tellik waited at the corner of the street, standing absently under a palm while keeping an eye on the jeweler. A guard showed up alone only a minute or two after they left—and through a rare stroke of luck, it was Snake-Ring.

Once again, though, Trelisti doubted luck had anything to do with it. Snake-Ring was the closest guard in the area, and the attack happening during his shift wasn't coincidence. Trelisti could already hear the lie formulating, that the assailant escaped before he arrived. Nobody else knew about the rope.

Trelisti sighed and headed for the building after him. Catching him in the act would be good enough reason to kill, but he'd have to find a shirt to swap for the walk back. Nothing said 'bloody murderer' like clothes covered in the stuff.

"Hold on," Tellik said as Trelisti walked away, one hand on his shoulder to stop him. "You need me to translate, don't you?"

"What I'm doing won't require words," he answered, pushing his arm off. "Wait here."

Tellik's face darkened with understanding. He shook his head.

"Let me come with you. We'll see if we can talk it out first." His voice got closer, but quieted once they were close to the shop.

Trelisti sent him a silent glare, not to stop him, but as a warning. Don't get in the way.

Tellik either didn't see it or pretended not to, sticking close behind. Trelisti paused at the bottom of the staircase.

A gruff voice said something, and though he couldn't understand the words, he knew the tone. Confusion, anger, alarm. The railing creaked against his struggled movements, the sound of him trying to pull his arms apart without success.

The response was hushed, cool, and short, followed by the sound of something cracking. The creaking slowed, then stopped, and a blade slit through the rope. Snake-Ring pocketed its remains before starting down the staircase.

Trelisti pushed Tellik over a few feet, then ducked both of them behind the counter. He waited until the room was clear of footsteps before emerging, then rushed to the top of the stairs. The attacker was still up there, limp on the ground and untied. Trelisti pressed two fingers to his throat.

There was no pulse.

* * *

It didn't make sense.

The sounds of the city irked him as he stared from the balcony of their room, watching merchants coerce the passersby beneath colorful tarps and wooden stalls. Behind, the door clasped shut, the sound of Tellik returning from the main floor.

"I brought you a cup, too," he said, placing a pale drink next to him. They were both sitting on the ground, using the shade of the next floor to protect from midday's drastic heat. "Not poisoned, I promise."

"I'd hope not. A dead bodyguard's not a very good one," Trelisti commented, then offered a nod of thanks. Thoughts were spinning around his head, and he couldn't seem to focus.

Trelisti took a sip of the drink, hoping somehow, it could help him focus. The top was frothy and spiced, the bottom sweet and fruity, and overall, it was a little extra. Something more fitting of Tellik than him, but he appreciated the effort.

"What've you got so far?" Tellik asked after, voice crawling with apprehension. He was shaken, and it showed since the moment they stumbled in on a dead man.

"Nothing I'm confident in," he replied. A group of pale birds flew overhead. "I've got concerns, and maybe a few theories, but I don't want to assume I'm right about anything."