“He made such a ruckus coming through the warehouse, so everyone was alerted. It was a godssend in a way, as everyone got out fast. We’ve had some smoke inhalation and some minor burns, but no serious casualties.”
“Thank all the gods for that,” James breathed.
I half fell, half slid off Titan’s back, heading for Captain Rowan. I wanted the person responsible caught, and the knights were the ones for the job.
“Captain Rowan, someone set fire here deliberately and ran off. An employee of the warehouse chased after him. Can you send someone to assist?”
He nodded and brusquely ordered, “Osbourne! Take Pedan and go after him!”
“Sir!” Osbourne saluted.
“Rhody, describe him as best you can,” I said. “So they know who to chase.”
“I didn’t see more than a bird’s-eye view of the man, but—” She cast about, found someone, and called, “Harris! Get over here, describe to the knights the asshat who did this.”
Harris turned out to be a skinny, freckled redhead perhaps in his late teens. He immediately jogged over and fell into giving a description to the two knights. Osbourne actually mounted Harris up on his horse before taking off in pursuit, which was honestly the most sensible solution. Harris would recognize the man.
There wasn’t anything I could really do to help, so I mostly stayed at James’s side as he dealt with the situation. It was a relief when the mages came, for they made quick work of thefire, calling upon earth and water to bury the flames. Thanks to them and the efforts of everyone around, the fire didn’t spread to the surrounding buildings.
That was, unfortunately, the only good news. The King’s Paper warehouse was nothing more than a skeletal ruin now. The smoke still trailed up in eerie wisps, the stench of ash prevalent in the air. It wasn’t even safe to take a step inside, but I could see in through the windows busted by heat and water.
It would likely need to be completely gutted and revamped, which was an expensive prospect, both in time and money. People would be out of jobs for the duration. How long would it take to rebuild? Six months? A year?
What could have possibly been the justification to dothis?
Thirty-nine
Edwin
James was not, needless to say, in a good mood.
No one blamed him.
The damage reports for yesterday’s fire had come in late this afternoon, along with a report from Captain Rowan, which was good news—if it could be considered that.
James sat in the little garden off his office, brooding into a cup of wine he stared at more than drank. He wasn’t the type to bury himself in his cups, fortunately, but it left him restless as a result.
I approached on soft feet, touching his shoulder gently. “James?”
“Sorry, I know I’m being a dramatic brat right now,” he muttered, still staring into the wine. “My inner child is very upset. That factory was my dream, my pride and joy.”
“You’re neither dramatic nor a brat. Someone hurt something precious to you. You’ve every right to be upset about it.”
Turning, he buried his head against my stomach.
I wished I possessed the magic to wave my hand and make it all go away. Sadly, I did not. I stroked his hair, feeling the silky locks slide against my fingers, hoping it would ease him somewhat. He liked it when I carded my fingers through his hair.
“Captain Rowan is here with a report. Would you like to hear it?”
“A good report?”
“He says so. He found the arsonist and his reason.”
At that, James lifted his head, a fierce smile taking over. “Oh, revenge will make me feel better.”
I snorted. “Somehow, I’m not surprised. A moment.”
Turning, I went and fetched Captain Rowan, bringing him back out to where James sat. Captain Rowan seemed quite pleased with himself, as he should be. I knew the knights had worked hard to track down the perpetrator and wring out key information during the interrogation.
