“Coincidence,” I said. “But I'll take it.” I crouched and laid my hand on the boy's skull. “I will see you laid to rest properly, Kun-lo. And if any of your family still live, I will notify them myself. But I must ask you to wait a little longer for that. I have to save the living first.” I stood up, and when I turned to leave, I saw a Talon team waiting in the trees. There were only four of them, probably all the Chief could spare. But they were enough to collect the remains. I'd have to thank the Chief for his understanding. “Please be respectful when you collect the bones. Have them inspected for any residual magic or toxins, and then wrapped for burial.”
“We’re taking the remains back to the Hall of Talons?” one of the talons asked.
“Yes. For now. If anyone is available, have them look into Kun-lo's family. The Chief knows the case. I need to notify any surviving relatives that we found him at last. His parents are dead, but there may be other relatives. If no one is available to conduct the search, I'll handle it myself later.”
“Yes, sir.”
The team got to work, and so did I. The day, although it was now night, was far from over.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Did I care less that the explosion had happened in the prison? No. But I was a little relieved. Hallaxgral had already proven to be a heartless bastard, and not in the way people think I'm heartless. When I first heard the explosion, my thoughts went to hospitals and orphanages. He was just the sort to target the weak. Or so I'd thought.
I was rethinking his profile now. First, an unsolved murder was solved, and now, a bunch of dream dealers were brought to justice. Well, a type of justice. Maybe they wouldn't have faced execution for capturing a claw and torturing him. Maybe they would have even escaped punishment for what I called treason. There was no escape for them now.
Lying in pieces around me were the men and women who had abducted me—those who had survived the King's wrath. I glanced at him, where he stood against the wall, not because he wanted to but because it was the safest place in the courtyard, and his knights had insisted upon it. King Tor'rien stared at the remains with an odd expression. I couldn't tell if he was pleased or annoyed. Perhaps a little of both.
The Talon prison complex consisted of several tall stone buildings, all of which were impenetrable. Tiny windows, steel doors, that sort of thing. But the bomb—a complex device activated with an enchanted ignition—had been planted in theprison yard. This courtyard was in the center of the complex within an eighty-foot-high shaft. Even with such a height, the above access had to be secured. Winged prisoners needed to stretch their wings daily or their muscles would wither, and that was considered abuse of a prisoner. So the prison yard featured three steel grates, each grate set ten feet above the previous, with the first of these set thirty feet off the ground. This allowed for winged prisoners to fly and, should those winged prisoners get through the first barrier, there would be two more to deal with, giving the guards plenty of time to apprehend them.
The Eljaffna didn't need such allowances, but they did need to be segregated from the rest of the prison population because the King hadn't decided on their fate yet. Yes, the King. Because I had accused them of treason, King Tor'rien had the right to circumvent the courts and determine punishment himself. Of course, they were his laws. If he wished to, he could break them and determine punishment for every criminal. He didn't need me to give him an excuse.
All of that is to say that the Eljaffna had been alone in the courtyard when the bomb went off. Only two guards had been with them, but, as was policy, they stood to either side of the door. The bomber had planted the device across the courtyard, as far from the door as possible. As if he or she intended for the guards to live through the attack. Which they had.
The only ones killed were the Eljaffna.
Eljaffna who might have been tortured by the King had they lived. The possibility unwound in my mind, allowing me a glimpse into a thwarted future. Had King Tor'rien questioned the prisoners, they might have told him everything. Including the reason they believed I had influence over him. But that possibility had died along with them.
All of that became background noise in my mind as I stared at the King. He stared back. Steady, handsome, and noble. He looked perfect. Even the dirt was gone from his hands. I wondered what he saw. A tired man with feverish eyes standing beneath the curled remains of the lowest grate. Destroyed by the blast, the steel bars resembled claws now, curled down toward me. Claws reaching for a claw.
In my pocket, tucked in an evidence bag, was Greishen's button. The King had insisted on stopping by my apartment so I could change out of my bloody clothes. I had agreed because I wanted to secure Kun-lo's file and get my kit. While there, the King had washed up, looking massive in my little bathroom, his hands in my sink. Bloody, muddy water flowing down the drain. His men had brought him a change of clothes. So, the evidence of my violent rescue was gone. Well, not gone entirely, just from his person. I had packed our bloody clothing in bags, intending to bring them to the Hall of Talons to submit them into evidence. They were in the King's carriage, sitting on the floor beside Kun-lo's file.
And they were irrelevant now.
Out of all the people who Hallaxgral could have killed for my mistake, these troubled me the least. Not at all, in fact. But I knew this wasn't the way the game would continue. Hallaxgral had planted this bomb as a backup. His intended target had been Katai. Possibly Sir Vasren as well. So, which assumption about Hallaxgral was correct? Did he target criminals or innocents? Two out of five had been criminals—Greishen and the Eljaffna, who I considered a single target. Or was it five out of five? I would have to look into Hallaxgral's other victims.
Crouching to inspect the remains of the bomb that I had gathered, I considered Hallaxgral further. He had connectionsto some very smart criminals. The bomb wasn't something your average citizen could make or even purchase. So, he was cunning, perhaps a genius, and wealthy. The question was—what was this game truly about? Was he targeting me because he wanted me to bring criminals to justice? Did he feel that the King's laws were lacking? Or was he simply a criminal having fun while thinning the competition?
“Residue.” I flicked out my coattails and sat down cross-legged to then bend forward and smell the bomb fragments. “Kurline.”
“What's that?” The King started toward me, but his knights shot into his path. “Oh, for fuck's sake, get out of my way. A falling piece of metal won't hurt me.”
“It would if it pierced your heart, Your Majesty,” Sir Gilhu said.
“Or your neck,” the other knight added.
“The odds of that are low.” King Tor'rien sidestepped his knights and crouched beside me. “What have you found, Tekhan?”
“Kurline residue.”
“Kurline. Hmm. Not surprising. It's flammable and viscous.”
“It's also hard to get without a license. And there are only two distributors in Kochan.”
“Then we should pay them a visit.”
“Yes,” I murmured and stood up. “It's the only clue I've found. Here.”
The King stood with me. “Here? Why did you make that distinction?”
