The Ambassador's Mission: Book One of th - By Trudi Canavan Page 0,89

I’ll probably have to tell the Guild and leave the hunt to them.”

“No!” he protested. “They’ll just bungle it like they did with you.”

“Or they’ll take what they learned from that experience and tackle this case differently.”

He scowled. “A lot differently, I hope.”

“Are you willing to work with them?” she asked, meeting and holding his gaze.

He grimaced, then sighed. “Maybe. Yes. I guess I have to. Don’t have much choice, do I?”

“Not really. Tell me how they can contact you.”

Cery sighed. “Could you … sleep on it before telling anyone?”

She smiled. “All right. I’ll decide before tonight’s shift. Either you’ll hear from me or the Guild will come knocking at your door.”

The kitchen slave’s eyes had gone round the moment he’d entered the room and spotted the corpse, and had remained wide through all Dannyl’s questions. Yet he answered calmly and without hesitation.

“When did you last see Tyvara?” Dannyl asked.

“Last night. I passed her in the corridor. She was heading for these rooms.”

“Did she say anything?”

“No.”

“Look any different to usual? Nervous, perhaps?”

“No.” The slave paused. “She looked angry, I think. It was dark.”

Dannyl nodded and noted the small detail. He had quite a list of them now, but then, he had been interviewing slaves for several hours.

“You said she and Riva knew each other. Did you ever see them arguing? Any odd behaviour?”

“They argued, yes. Tyvara told Riva what to do a lot. Riva didn’t like it. Tyvara had no right to. But,” the man shrugged, “it happens.”

“That some slaves order around others?”

The man nodded. “Yes.”

“Did you see them arguing any time yesterday, or hear of them arguing?”

The man opened his mouth to reply, but paused at a soft sound from the doorway. Dannyl looked up to see the door slave hovering nervously in the entrance. The man threw himself to the floor.

“You may rise. What did you come to tell me?” Dannyl asked.

“Ashaki Achati has arrived.” The slave was wringing his hands, as he had every time Dannyl had seen him since arriving home.

Dannyl turned to the kitchen slave he was interviewing. “You may go.”

Both slaves scurried away as Dannyl rose and tucked his notebook into his robes. He looked around Lorkin’s rooms, then strode out of them and made his way to the Master’s Room. He arrived just in time to meet Achati.

“Welcome, Ashaki Achati,” he said.

“Ambassador Dannyl,” Achati replied. “I’m afraid it took some time for your slave to track me down. What has happened? All he would tell me was that it was urgent.”

Dannyl beckoned. “Come and I’ll show you.”

The Sachakan followed Dannyl through the Guild House silently, to Dannyl’s relief. The late hour and constant questioning of slaves had begun to take their toll. But there is still much to do. I won’t be sleeping for a while. He drew a little magic and used it to soothe away the tiredness. I’ll be doing that a few more times in the coming days, I suspect.

They arrived at Lorkin’s rooms. Dannyl led Achati in and to the door of the bedroom. Lamps had burned low, but the body was still clear and shocking to behold.

“A dead slave,” Achati said, moving inside and peering at her. “I see why you are concerned.”

“To put it lightly.”

“Did your … ?” Achati’s gesture took in the rooms.

“No. The body is empty of energy. Whoever killed her used bl— … higher magic, which Lorkin has not been taught.”

Achati glanced at him, then frowned and touched the dead woman’s arm. While the Guild did not want the Sachakans knowing how few Kyralian magicians could use black magic, it didn’t require Dannyl to pretend that they all did either. It would seem plausible that Lorkin, as a low-status magician, would not yet have been taught it. It’ll be stranger to them that I do not know it.

“So she has,” Achati said, withdrawing his hand with a grimace of distaste. “But this means whoever did kill her had been taught it.”

“One of the other slaves, a woman named Tyvara, is missing. I have questioned most of the slaves here and she looks the most likely culprit.”

Instead of expressing surprise, as Dannyl expected, Achati looked worried. “You read their minds?”

“No. Guild magicians are not allowed to read minds without the permission of the Higher Magicians.”

Achati’s eyebrows rose. “Then how do you know they are telling the truth?”

“The slaves were expecting to have their minds read, so they would not have come up with a false story or planned answers before I started questioning them. I