Page 63 of Horn of Winter

I dragged out my phone and took several shots of the inscription and the empty cradle on top, then swung the light around to see if there was anything else here. In one corner, almost invisible against the shadows that hunkered there, was a somewhat grimy-looking brown backpack.

Mathi walked over, picked it up, then opened it. “Purse, phone, keys, that sort of stuff from the look of it.” He paused and pulled out a small, almost empty vial of brown liquid. “There’s also this. The label says it’s Dearil.”

I googled it. “Apparently, it’s produced by distilling several psychoactive plants. When a minor amount is applied to the skin, it gives a long-term high without long-term effects. When injected, or large amounts are applied, it initially has a hallucinatory effect, but within twenty-four hours will shut down all bodily systems and kill.”

“Perhaps that’s how the two escaped,” he said. “They arranged medical help to be on hand, took enough of this stuff to die and break the magic, and then left after staging a fight.”

“If medical help was called in, there’d be some record of it.”

He returned the vial and put the pack down. “Not if it was unregistered medical, brought in out-of-hours and out of the sight of whoever was keeping a watch on the place.”

It made as much sense as anything else right now. “We should head back up top and ring Sgott. He can organize the local officers to come down and take over.”

“And also warn them not to detain us. We still have to check out Menlo, remember, and get back in time for our evening activities.”

“I daresay yours will be more pleasurable than mine, given mine is a stake-out.”

“Pleasure can still be had in a working environment.” He led the way back to the narrow stairs. “One just has to proceed a little more... cautiously.”

“Speaking from experience, are we?”

“I never mix business and pleasure in my office.”

“Which does not actually answer the question.”

He laughed. “I will not deny there have been occasions where mutual desires both contractually and physically were combined to the benefit of all.”

I rolled my eyes. “Only a light elf would describe hot monkey sex in such bland terms.”

Once we were out of the souterrain, I rang Sgott while Mathi contacted the owners to warn them their property was about to be invaded by the IIT. It took the local division half an hour to reach us, and it was another hour by the time they took our statements and photographed our footwear to account for our prints in the cavern. They were pleased we’d at least had the foresight to record our interference with the body, even if we both got a lecture about doing so. Once we were finally allowed to leave, we walked back to the car and jumped in. As Mathi did a U-turn, I punched the address into the GPS.

We stopped in Gort to grab hot drinks and a couple of pastries—the latter for me, not Mathi, who turned his nose up at the look of them—then continued on, arriving in Menlo just over an hour later. It couldn’t actually be described as a village, as itwas little more than a collection of single-story, modern-looking bungalows with pretty gardens fronted by waist-height stone fences. The actual village—Menlough—lay a few klicks farther along the main road.

Alys Tew lived in the second on the left. Mathi stopped a few houses farther down. “How do you want to play this?”

“Harper said Alys had retired, so she’s probably elderly. It’s better if I talk to her alone.”

He nodded and “I’ll wait here, then, but leave your phone on and open so I can hear the conversation.”

“An old woman is not going to overwhelm me.”

“No, but she might well set a swarm of bees on you if you piss her off badly enough—and let’s face it, you do have a proclivity for doing that.”

I laughed, grabbed my phone, and called his. Once he’d picked it up, I locked the screen on mine so I didn’t accidentally hang up on him then tucked it into my pocket. Then I climbed out, walked back to Alys’s, and followed the path through a row of neatly trimmed roses to a set of stairs and a glassed-in entrance. I rang the bell to the right of the door then stepped back, listening to the building’s song. It was a newer house, so its music was greener than what I was used to back in Deva, but it nevertheless spoke of a building well cared for.

The inner door opened, revealing a small woman with golden skin, silver-shot green hair that was tucked into a neat bun on top of her head, and earth-brown eyes. She squinted up at me for several seconds, then said, in a somewhat frail voice that did not match the robustness of her body, “Do I know you?”

“No, ma’am. My name is Bethany Aodhán and?—”

“You’re Riayn’s niece?”

I raised my eyebrows. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, this is a surprise. She used to speak about you when she dropped in for a cup of tea.”

“Not fondly, I would imagine.”

Alys cackled. “Not always, I’ll grant you that. Would you like to come in for a cuppa? I take it you’re here to ask some questions?”

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