I headed for the kitchen, hoping Hallaxgral had left me another clue.
Chapter Eleven
I kept searching the kitchen. If this was a game to Hallaxgral, he'd want me to play. He would have left me a clue about the next murder. Otherwise, how would I be able to figure it out? Unless he intended to kill someone else to leave me the clue. Whatever his plans, I had to keep looking. Because if he had left me something, and I missed it, I would never forgive myself.
And the game would be over.
“Claw Shinkai.”
I stood back and took it all in—the kitchen held the remnants of a meal but other than that, it was tidy. My vision panned out. Art on the walls, all from the Ke-len tribe. Why were these people chosen? What was their connection to Halaxgral? Or to the King? No, wait. Not the King. That had been a feint.
In my mind, I saw Wuten again, lips bloody, breathless, and pointing at me.
This was about me. As inexplicable as that was, I had to view the case considering that. Of the thousands of criminals I had apprehended during my time with the Talons, any of them could be Halaxgral or someone important to him. That would give him cause to play this morbid game with me. But that seemed like a weak reason. I sensed there was more to it.
“Tekhan!” The King shook my shoulder.
“What is it?!” I snarled, turning toward him.
The King didn't flinch or growl back. Instead, he said, “That's enough for tonight. Your eyes are shaking.”
I lifted a hand to my temples. “I'm merely scanning the . . .” I trailed off as something registered as wrong. “One moment, Your Majesty,” I murmured and headed for the discrepancy.
It was a child's toy. Just a little one—a wooden soldier, one of the King's Horns. It stood on a shelf, half hidden behind a stack of dishes, as if it were spying on us. I picked it up and examined it.
“What is that?” The King was suddenly beside me, peering down at the soldier.
“A clue.” I turned it over in my hand. “This will lead me to the next victim. Hopefully, before Hallaxgral murders them.”
“How do you know that's the clue?”
“They had no children.”
“Maybe the child is grown, and the mother is sentimental.”
“And she keeps the toy in the kitchen? I don't think so.” I glanced at the doorway. “I'll make sure the coroner checks to see if she's ever born a child. Until then, I will assume this is my clue.”
“What could a toy tell you?”
“Look at it. What does it tellyou?”
The King shrugged. “It's just a toy soldier.”
“No, it isn't.” I took it back and held it up. “Look at the craftsmanship. It's excellent. The painting is detailed. You can even see the expression on the soldier's face. This is not a toy for a tanner's child. This was intended for the son of a merchant or a noble. A family with means.”
The King lifted a brow, his lips turning up at a corner. “Go on.”
I smelled the toy. Turned it over. “There's a maker's mark. I believe this is from Sei-Sei's Toys. From the grain, this appears to be marhon wood. I can still smell the varnish, so this isn't an old piece. Despite that, its condition tells me it has been played with. This isn't a prop that the murderer bought and planted here. He took it . . . oh, fuck.” I swayed.
King Tor'rien steadied me. “Tek?”
I looked at him, my hand lowering with the soldier gripped tightly within it. “He took this from a child. That's our next victim. He's going after a little boy.”
“The fucking bastard!”
The King's knights shot into the kitchen, stares searching for a target before settling on the King.
He waved them off, shaking his head. “The murderer is targeting a child next.”
