“Because it’s possible he might have information about a blade we think is being used by Carla to force council members and others to obey her will and extract information.”
“Who told you this? Your father?”
“No, Beira, so if you get rid of our thief before we get our answers, she will not be happy. She’s already unhappy enough with me because apparently I am taking too long for her liking.”
He laughed softly. “Gods and patience are rarely companions.”
“Yeah, so I’m discovering.” I helped myself to more walnut cheese. It really was quite lovely. “How did Maehdon die?”
“Natural causes, according to the coroner’s report.”
“And you believe that?”
He hesitated. “Maehdon had been in good healthandgood spirits when I’d seen him the week before. While death can sneak up on any of us, I do not believe that was the case here.”
“Meaning you think someone might have bought off the coroner?”
He half smiled. “That’s generally a hard thing to do.”
“Speaking from experience, are we?”
The smile grew. “Not personal experience.”
Meaning he might not have tried, but someone close to him certainly had. “Were there any witnesses to make you believe it was something other than a twist of fate?”
“His grandson—who found the body—claimed to have seen a woman leaving the house as he arrived, but no one matching the description he gave has been found in either the IIT’s database or indeed in the Driver and Vehicle Licensing Agency records.”
I took a drink, eyeing him for a second. “Did Jarvil happen to have any dealings with Carla Wilson before she went to ground?”
“I honestly don’t know, but it is certainly an option, given what you said about the knife.”
“Well, she does appear to have her claws in multiple men.” I reached for another strawberry. “What about his sons?”
“What about them?”
“Well, could one of them be reacting to the IIT’s dismissal of the grandson’s story by playing lone wolf?”
“Unlikely. They are not the lone wolf type.”
“They’re Myrkálfar—it goes without saying that vengeance is built into their genes.”
“None of Maehdon’s sons are overly endowed with the vengeance gene.”
“And yet, you investigate them.”
“It is never wise to leave any stone unturned, however unlikely.”
“How many sons does he have?”
“Five.”
“Five?” My eyebrows rose. “The Maehdon line is a productive lot, obviously.”
Cynwrig grinned. “You forget that the Myrkálfar generally do not have the reproduction issues that plague the Ljósálfar, though we are, of course, nowhere near as fertile as humans or indeed pixies.”
“And how many little Cynwrigs are you planning to have tumbling around the feet of your throne?” I couldn’t help but ask.
He sliced the brie and ate it, his eyes not wavering from mine, his expression intent. Nerve janglingly so. “That is a decision that can only be decided after serious discussion with my wife-to-be.”
