off.”
“She took her kids?”
“Yeah.”
Something in the way he said that raised my suspicions. “There must have been some reason you can think of. You were paying her and letting her live with you, right? So why would she leave without good reason?”
Garst du Wöllyr fell silent, and before I could goad him, Kindin spoke. “We were doing so well, Garst. Let’s not stop now. I’d like to refrain from hurting you anymore and escort you to a hygienist so we can all breathe peace again. Please answer Master Dervan.”
He sighed, coughed, and spat blood. “I didn’t mean to do it. I said I was sorry. But I hit her kid. Tamöd.”
“You disgusting pink skink—”
“Master Dervan!” The priest’s eyes flashed at me, and I pulled up short. “Put down the knife. We will have peace here.”
I looked down, surprised to find the knife in my hand. I couldn’t recall picking it up even though I must have just done so. I let it clatter on the table and took a deep breath. “You’re right. Thank you.” I returned to my seat and said, “Garst, thank you for telling the truth. I will tell you the truth also. I do work with the bard but have no idea where he is. He sleeps in a different place every night, and I’m not told where. Basic security measure. I can’t reveal what I don’t know. Now, do you have any ideas about where we might find Elynea?”
“None. I’m sorry.”
“Then I would like you to lead me to your house—it’s only fair since you know where I live—and I’ll begin my search for her there.”
“And what then?”
“And then we let you go. As the priest said, no harm was done here.”
“I don’t know, man; I’m feeling pretty harmed.”
“I’m not sympathetic. You might wish to consider how your pain and powerlessness is exactly what Tamöd felt when you hit him. I’d say that’s justice.”
He agreed to lead us to his home, and while I got prepared to go out, Kindin spoke softly about how he should behave and the impossibility of outrunning a Priest of the Gale.
I blew out the candles, Kindin allowed him to rise, and Garst du Wöllyr exited ahead of us. I kept his knife. We wound through the dimly lit streets to the northeastern slums, passing the Randy Goat Inn at one point. Garst’s dwelling was even more structurally decrepit, though the space above his workshop was more expansive than mine. It was dirty, though. Elynea wasn’t there or her kids or any sign of their belongings. We searched the workshop, too, and found nothing of interest—not even my stolen furniture. There wasn’t a lot of lumber or other pieces lying around either; if Garst was as successful as Elynea claimed at first, I would have expected to see more.
“All right,” I told him. “I’ll leave your knife with the baker across the street.” I’d seen lights through his windows; he was baking the morning’s loaves.
“Live in peace,” Kindin told him, though one could tell he sort of doubted it was possible, and we left him there to find a hygienist on his own. We went to the baker’s first and asked if perhaps he’d seen Elynea or the kids before leaving Garst’s knife with him. No luck. We bought a pastry from his first batch and some tea while we waited for the sun to rise and the people of Pelemyn with it. Then we continued to ask after Elynea everywhere up and down the street and for blocks and blocks around. Some people had seen her but not for the last couple of days. It made me worry that perhaps something truly awful had happened to her. If we didn’t find her soon, I’d be revisiting Garst du Wöllyr with the constable. But eventually we had to leave off because I had to go meet Fintan.
Kindin Ladd gave me a tired smile and hugged me. “May you find your friend and breathe peace from this day on,” he said.
“Thank you. For everything. Especially the part where you stopped him from putting a knife to my throat while I slept. I owe you a legendary gift basket. I’ll send it to the embassy.”
He smiled. “I’ll look forward to it.” He was familiar enough with Brynts to know that when they said you were going to get a gift basket, you were pretty much doomed to receive one and there was no use protesting that it wasn’t necessary. It was a