The Rostikov Legacy (Malykant Mysteries #1)

Chapter Six

Two sharpened rib bones now rested in Konrad’s inner coat pocket. He hoped fervently that he would not have to add a third.

   He had retired to The Malykt’s temple, as he often did when the leads on a mystery ran dry and he was unsure where to turn for answers. The peace in this place was soothing; it calmed the furious whirl of his thoughts and cleared his mind, the better to see the patterns that lay beneath the confused assortment of clues he had collected.

   Sometimes he felt The Malykt’s presence brush against his mind, as cold and merciless as winter itself. The Overlord had granted Konrad considerable privileges in exchange for his service, and he expected swift results. In his years as the Malykant, he had never yet failed his master. What the consequences of that might be he did not know, but the mere prospect was enough to set his heart beating quick and hard with fear.

   Such a rush of feeling was rare for him. Emotion was an impediment to the calm clarity of mind he needed in order to carry out his duties - all his duties. And so, when he had become the Malykant, his new master had taken it all. Konrad had felt some core part of his soul wrenched away and scattered to the winds, and since then, where his emotions should have been he felt only emptiness, and a faint echo of the feelings he might otherwise have had.

   The only exception was his reaction to the Spiritlord Himself. Determined to retain the loyal service of his chief disciple, The Malykt had left Konrad’s fear of Him intact. A pleasant gift, Konrad thought as his bound soul shivered under the eye of his master.

   He forced himself to take slow, deep breaths, drawing his usual calm around himself until his heartbeat slowed and his mind cleared. Think, Konrad. He had uncovered many pieces of this puzzle and they would fit together somehow.

   Lord Amrav Rostikov. Konrad had been inclining towards him as a suspect; after all, he stood to gain the most from Navdina’s death. But now he, too, lay dead and cold, and he had been prevented from speaking of his murder. Two Rostikovs… he discarded the idea that Navdina’s fate might have been intended for another. Might Irinanda’s poison-man hold some manner of grudge against the family? He knew of no particular crime the Rostikovs had committed, but perhaps something lay hidden behind their respectable facade.

    If that was the case, then Rostikov’s young wife might be in danger. Perhaps not; she had been in the house when her husband was killed, yet she had been spared. Did that mean she was exempted from whatever curse dogged the rest of her family, or had she been more directly involved?

   Then there was the nurse, Etraya Marodeva. Perhaps she knew something of it. Her manner was not as he would expect from a woman in her position. He would speak to her again, and today. If she had any information, she would tell him.

   His skin prickled with the awareness that he was being watched. Raising his head, he saw a dark figure sitting midway up the tiers across from him, a woman by her shape and posture. The brim of her hat shaded her face, but he could see her mouth. She was smirking at him.

   ‘Nanda,’ he said softly, knowing she would hear him. ‘You are following me.’

   She stood up and made her way around to his seat. ‘You are paranoid,’ she replied with a wicked smile. ‘I came to pay my respects to His Greatness and I find you, shivering with cold and fear under the eye of The Malykt. What can it mean?’

   Konrad snorted. ‘If you may pay your respects to His Greatness, why mayn’t I do so with equal innocence?’

   ‘And the reason for your fear?’

   ‘I was cold.’

   ‘Cold? I think not.’

   Konrad said nothing.