Novel (in progress – sample coming soon)

“Silver, silver, silver everything she was dressing in was silver because magic failed against silver. Hence the nickname for those involved in her profession, ‘silvers’.”

…

Cache stumbled into the One-Eyed Gryphon and Bordy followed her. Typhon, the naga behind the bar waved them over indicating two seats. “Well Silvers, what’ll it be? Looks like it’s taken more out of you than usual. Were you the two that had to deal with Penwryk Lane?” For a man/snake behind a bar, Typhon seemed to know just about everything going on in Lianarck. Of course, according to him everyone told their bartender everything, so it only seemed apropos. He dropped two full tankards on the bar top and leaned over conspiratorially, “Tell me everything.”

“And then she found this bit of crystal of some kind and that was it. Suddenly, the constables showed up in force, boarded up the whole place and then kicked us out. We spent the rest of the afternoon trying to get all of our equipment clean again after that disaster.” Bordy looked up from his latest drunken task which was connecting all of the circles of beer on the countertop with his wetted finger. “Your bar tastes funny.”

“Come on Typhon, you know he’s a light weight, stop giving him so much.” Cache leaned forward onto her palms; elbows planted on the bar top. She’d already worked her way through four tankards and maybe it was starting to affect her judgment. Pulling away her right hand she fumbled at her belt and then drew forth the silver cannister. Realizing she’d need both hands, she leaned back and then opened the container and shook its contents onto the bar top. Typhon and Bordy both stared at the curved piece of crystal.

“You took-“

“What the hell is that?”

“Doesn’t it look like an eggshell?”

“—that from the room we cleaned up?”

“I think I see what you mean, the way it’s shaped.”

“But what the hell has a crystal eggshell?”

“You are in so much trouble!”

Both Cache and Typhon turned to Bordy, “Shut up.”

The fine scales on Typhon’s nose wrinkled as he concentrated. “I think the problem here is when does the egg look like this.”

“Hunh?” Cache asked.

Typhon held up a finger and slithered to the other end of the bar, ducked under the pass through built for him and continued to the far corner of the bar where he leaned over the table. Cache could see his blonde head bobbing up and down in conversation with one of the occupants.

Bordy pointed a wavering finger in her general direction and stated, “You are going to regret this.”

In response, Cache tapped the top of her tankard on his. “You are going to regret that. I guarantee it.”

At the end of the exchange, Typhon slid over with a tall gangly man in a leather coat. “Have a look at this Meecer. He’s good at,” Typhon hesitated for a moment, “identifying things. What do you make of that?”

Unsure of how to respond to that introduction, Cache looked at Typhon with a raised eyebrow. The stranger made a grab for the shell and Cache caught his hand before he touched it. “Barkeep said look. Didn’t say touch.”

Meecer scowled at her but bent closer instead to consider the crystal piece. He brought his hand up to his face covering his mouth. His dark eyes went back and forth between Typhon and Cache. Bordy he ignored. Finally, he dropped his hand. “What you have here,” he stated, “Is something you never find. This is a phoenix egg shard. Not just any phoenix egg bit though, but one that was broken right before birth and yet still didn’t burn away into ash in the conflagration of the phoenix’s birth. That should be impossible.” His gaze once again shifted between Cache and Typhon. “This is worth a truly stupid amount of gold—” Then he spied the silver cannister at the edge of the table and took a swift step backward, “Unless, of course this is contaminated, then it’s a crime for you to even have it out of that cannister if you knew what it was.”

Cache slapped the shard back into the container and slid it off the table. “That was never here.”

Meecer looked at her and chewed on his lip. He wanted the shard, wanted it bad. But since it was contaminated, the only way he could sell it was with the knowledge and Cache would make it known that there was a polluted piece out there. Then Meecer put it all together, “Silvers. Unholy Conuntada, are you that stupid or that drunk? Shit, I can’t even be here. Typhon if you have any mind left, turn them out. Get them out of here. That’s a nightmare right here in your bar if anyone hears about what they have.” With that, Meecer turned and ran out of the bar.

Typhon sighed and hung his head. When he looked up, he said, “You two need to leave. Leave now. Take your time coming back. I like you, but I don’t like anyone that much.”

Standing on the bridge over the creek just down from the bar, Bordy glared at Cache. Then he walked up and jabbed her with a finger. “You are out of your damn mind. How could you even think about doing that? How could you do that? You’ll lose your certification. Shit, I’ll lose my certification for even being associated with you.” He reached out to her and pushed her away from him. “Three years. Three years we’ve worked together. You’re a good partner. I trust—I trusted you. You work hard. You’re always there for me and now this? No, no, no you don’t say anything. Just stay away from me. I don’t even know any more. Gods, Cache, how could you?” Then he’d turned from her and strode angrily off into the darkness. All she could do was watch him go.

Cache hung herself over the edge of the wooden bridge railing. She felt like losing everything that she’d drunk into the swirling water belong. Felt like emptying herself out, in the hopes that maybe she could start over again, but this action was rather final. Pulling out the cannister she looked at it again. She unscrewed the lid and considered the phoenix eggshell within just visible in the light of the waning Moon. Right now, she could drop it. Let it fall into the water and be washed away. But someone would find it eventually and then she would be responsible for letting a piece of contaminated material out into the world. She screwed the cap back on and considered it again. Her head went round and round in her panic. Then a clatter of hooves sounded behind her as a carriage came up to the bridge and rolled to a stop.

“Silver Prin Cachendra, the Marquise’s men would like a word with you.”

Her hand unclenched nervelessly as she turned slowly about. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the silver cannister fall towards the darkness below the bridge. After she’d gone through all of that, how could she lose it now? On the other hand, she certainly didn’t want to be questioned with stolen evidence on her person. Cache risked a quick glance over her shoulder. There it was. The cylinder had fallen into the mud near the base of the bridge. She could come back for it. In that second though, two sets of leather gloves caught her shoulders and pulled her back from the edge.

They turned her around to face a man in the voluminous black cape. The imperial crest shone on his garment. “What’s so bad that you’d think about jumping Prin? Could be something we could help you with.”

“Just felt sick,” she mumbled, unwilling to meet his gaze.

“Maybe about something you did?” he questioned.

She looked at his boots instead. Handmade of fine leather, they carried a shine that spoke of time spent polishing. Time she was certain he hadn’t spent. She was very tempted to see if she could spew on those pretty boots, but her stomach was being uncooperative. “Just drinking, Sir.”

His leather glove, of a great deal finer cut than those that held her shoulders caught her under the chin forcing her face up. Cache blinked at him. She’d never seen him before, but she certainly didn’t travel in the circles that he did. His sharp blue eyes gazed at her assessing. Then he nodded once and let go of her. “Put her in the back boys. Maybe she’ll be more talkative when we let the professionals talk to her.” With that, they hustled her around to the back of the carriage and opening the gate on the rear tossed her within onto the horse blankets there. Then they were off, the bouncing of the carriage thumping her head slightly with each rut in the road.

The lanterns were very bright when they led her into the building. In the brief moments between being hustled out of the carriage, into an alley and through a stone arch, Cache was unable to see any familiar landmark. They had her and she had no idea where she was. The only thing in her favor was she didn’t have anything incriminating on her. The two men, whose faces remained concealed in the darkness of the hoods they wore had taken her to a small stone cell with a single wooden chair and seated her there. A single shuttered lamp threw a dim illumination about her. Cache could smell the straw scattered on the floor. At least they hadn’t bound her.

When she’d sat there long enough for her head to stop bobbling, a hatch slid open in the ceiling revealing a grate through which fell additional light. Blinking in the sudden illumination, Cache shifted in her seat to look upward. A shadow fell across her as a pair of boot soles walked across the grate. “I see you are still awake. That’s good. Cache, we need you to answer some questions for us and then you can go. I am sure you are tired, and it’s been quite a day, so let’s make this as efficient as possible.” The shadow stopped pacing overhead. “Tell me about the room you cleaned today.” She was silent, still looking upward at her questioner. “Come now Cache, you work for the Constabulary, so you work for our Lord and Protector Anton di Bredekis, Marquise of Lianarck. So, when I ask you a question, I am merely doing it for him.”

Sighing, Cache realized it didn’t matter at all if her captors were from the Marquise or not. All she’d done was clean up the scene of a death. They’d either find out from her or else they would track down Bordy and ask the same questions. Better that she do it, here and now. “Fine, I’ll tell you.”

Her interrogator ran her through the story several times until he felt that she’d related everything, which she had with the exception of the eggshell. She kept waiting for it, that question, but it never came. Eventually, the grate slid shut. She heard the footsteps overhead moving off and they her in the dim cell. At what point she did fall asleep she couldn’t say but when she fell out of the chair, she simply rolled over into the hay and continued to slumber. Waking eventually, she stumbled to the door and found it unlocked. Lurching through a series of narrow dark alleys, she found herself in daylight, in an unrecognizable part of Lianarck. She was free, she was alive and somewhat stunned.

…