Evidence bags extended to the closest talon. I said, “Take these along with the body back to the Hall of Talons. I want the ash analyzed for particulates, toxins, and magical remnants. Make sure to sweep up all the remains. I mean the ashes as well, Talon. His loved ones deserve to have as much of him as possible to bury.”
The talon took the evidence bags from me. “Him, sir?”
I grinned. I wasn't a claw who got annoyed with inquisitive talons. An inquisitive mind was a sharp one, and that meant this man had potential. “Yes. Come here. Let me show you.” I bent beside the body again, and the talon joined me. “You see his pelvis? It's robust and wide. Females have lighter pelvis bones adapted to childbirth. This is the case for every race on Serai. And look at the skull. That is a male jaw and brow. Angular and broad. You see?”
The talon nodded, his expression one of fascination. “Yes, sir.” He looked at me. “Thank you so much, sir.”
“What's your name?” I stood up again.
“I'm Talon Fren.”
“I'll remember you. That was a good question, Talon Fren. Keep asking questions. Don't let anyone deter you from seeking information and you'll go far in the force.”
“Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!”
Sergeant Trand cleared his throat.
I looked at him. Just looked. He looked away. I have a very penetrating gaze—the sort that startles children and makes grown men uncomfortable. I'm very proud of it.
“Talon Fren, I want you to check the reports of missing persons. Look for any Chelli man reported missing within the last two days.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Thank you.” I finished making notes in my claw book, tucked it in my coat pocket, then smoothed my lapels. “All right, Sergeant. Let us proceed to the castle.”
“Yes, sir.” The Sergeant went up the basement stairs.
I winked at the talon, who snickered, and then I followed the Sergeant. Yes, I was excited to go to the castle, but that Chelli man deserved my complete attention, and that young talon deserved to have his question answered to the best of my capabilities. The King could wait. Had he not specified that he wanted to see meafterI made my inspection? It sounded to me as if he would appreciate my thoroughness.
With that thought, an image of the King of Rushao popped into my mind. Tall, broad-shouldered, and with pin-straight raven hair that fell to his waist. He was a striking man who could not go unnoticed, even were he not the King. I'd only seen him a handful of times over my years in the crown cityof Kochan, but every instance left me feeling . . . I don't know. Disturbed and elated at the same time. Seeing the King always left a hollow in my chest. As if his visage reminded me I had nothing but my work to care for. No family, no lover, and very few friends. Normally, this didn't bother me. I liked my life. Even my boring work. Without clawing, I would have no release for my churning mind. I had no lovers and very little friends by choice. So why did simply gazing upon the King make me feel as if my life were lacking? Perhaps now, I'd solve that mystery.
I hurried after the Sergeant.
Chapter Two
I spent most of the ride to the royal castle peering out the window. But I don't need to look directly at someone to investigate them. I mean, er, pay attention to them.
Sergeant Trand stared out the open window of the carriage as well, but he wasn't as calm as I was. Oh, on the surface, he was the picture of a stoic soldier, but just beneath that, I saw the tells of a nervous man—the clenching of teeth, squeezing his knees with those big hands, and the twitching around his eyes. The man needed a distraction. It seemed the perfect opportunity to practice my craft.
“How old is your daughter, Sergeant?”
Sergeant Trand jerked his stare at me. “What?”
“Your daughter. I believe she had a birthday recently. You gave her a kitten?”
“Holy fuck,” he whispered. “Are you a sorcerer?”
“Sorcerers work with the dead, Sergeant. I think you mean seer. I am neither. Although, I do see a lot. I'm very observant.”
“What did you observe about me that told you all that?” Trand leaned forward, all tension gone—replaced by fascination.
And we know how much I love fascination.
I smiled. “You're covered in cat fur.” I waved at the pale, fine fur that clung to his cuffs.
He looked down, then back at me. “All right, that tells you I have a cat, not a kitten. Nor does it say anything about my daughter.”
“There is a trace of frosting caught in the lacing of your left boot.” I sniffed. “Butterwhip, judging by the scent. Butterwhip is reserved for birthday treats, usually for children. Thus, I determined there was a child's birthday recently.”
