“Driver?” Enys cocked a brow. “What do you know?”
“You don’t expect a lady of her station to walk to the temple.”
“Hmm…” Enys rubbed his chin, fingers rasping on copper stubble. “I’ll dispatch an inquisitor to her home. You think her death might be murder?”
“Possibly.” Though not easily explainable without Martin saying too much. “I have a friend at the temple who might know more.”
“Go. See your friend as the temple is closer than the docks. Then ask about the boys. Most of the other cases can wait.”
Martin didn’t share Enys’s opinion. When someone went missing, the faster the guards investigated, the greater the chance of finding them alive. But Martin couldn’t argue with his superior.
“I’ll go home and change. It’s time I paid a visit to the temple anyway.” He stood, placing the parchment on the desk. Though he’d love to be wrong, the death of the missing countess might be easily solved. But what if demons had gotten her instead?
“Shall I have the stable boy bring around your usual mount?”
“No.” Martin shook his head. Riding on horseback meant official business and notice. Better not to draw too much attention, though simple dress stood out more than a uniform in the case of the temple.
On a stone bench in the Lady’s courtyard, Martin found Cere, midday sun glinting down and shimmering off the fountain’s water at the center. A statue of three maidens poured urns into the basin below, the falling water tinkling like laughter. The immaculate gardens perfumed the air with jasmine, gardenia, and herb scents.
Flowers that didn’t grow in any other part of the city this season. Just the temple grounds.
Doves hooted from the treetops, and a guinea fowl wandered past, seven chirping keets in her wake. Here, even the fowl remained unaffected by the cooling temperatures outside the garden wall. As much as he hated everything the temple represented, Martin loved the gardens, particularly at this time of day when most initiates were about their studies. He could take a few moments’ enjoyment before returning to his duties if not for worry over the two boys.
Martin needed to finish here and be on his way.
What would Peter think of this serene place, used to the busy city as he was? What was he doing now? Cooking for the night’s dinner, tending bar for early arrivals? Without a doubt, Peter wasn’t sitting idly in a courtyard contemplating life.
Would he smile at the clumsy guinea keets? Would he put a gardenia blossom to his nose and take a sniff? Would he even recognize Martin, dressed in royal blue satin trousers with an elaborately embroidered jacket? Anyone taking a quick look might mistake him for a wealthy patron. When new, Martin’s well-oiled boots likely cost more than Peter saw in a sevenday. Bought secondhand and embellished with Martin’s newfound skills, they looked quite nice indeed but not nice enough to draw too much attention.
Alone. For a few moments, amid a bustling city, Martin was alone—save for Cere.
As a child, he had often climbed the highest mountain peaks, allowing him to stare down on the world from a lofty vantage point. Vast open spaces unfolded beneath his feet. No people. Here, people mingled everywhere. Rare was a moment of solitude.
At the time, he’d never heard the ocean waves, never seen a ship at port.
Had Peter ever seen the mountains? Ever breathed in the early morn mists or trudged through hip-high snow in winter? What would he make of Martin’s homeland?
And why did Martin want so badly to take him there?
Cere rose from his bench and grinned. “Martin! I’d hoped to see you today.” He paused and studied Martin’s face. “Whoa ho! It looks like someone lost sleep last night. Good hunting, I take it?”
Martin hid a wince, though he knew the temple novice meant a different type of hunting.
Cere sat and patted a spot on the bench beside him. Martin sat. He’d never admit to watching Cere dancing, then turning those dance moves into fighting skills.
It wasn’t an outright lie to make creative use of the truth. “Good hunting, indeed, Cere.” Let him think Martin captured a lover during the hunt.
Would he have if he hadn’t been interrupted?
A bit of the light left Cere’s eyes. What? Part of temple life meant pleasure with other novices. This particular novice likely never lacked partners, spending his days in luxury. In contrast, Martin spent his days practicing with other guards, patrolling the city, managing the men under his authority, and consulting with his commander. Then he spent most of his eves practicing fighting moves, using those skills while demon hunting, and reading ancient tomes, trying to learn all he could about the mysterious mages.
Dmitri had shared something without demanding Martin’s confidence. Still, there had to be reasons the symbols protecting the city weren’t common knowledge.
Or why they’d begun to fail, allowing demons through.
“You must tell me all about it.”
Martin detected a hint of jealousy in Cere’s tone.
