Casket of Souls

considered using. In fact, he’d forgotten all about it in all the fun of toying with the nobles, killing them off here and there as it suited him and enjoying the rising panic, until he recognized Alec and that Micum Cavish fellow during that near miss at the tenement. Humming to himself, he pulled an empty phial from the rack and dropped the ring in.

 
    D ESPITE Korathan’s continuing displeasure, Seregil and Alec were allowed to pay their respects at court the following morning. Elani sat with Alaya’s other relations by the old courtier’s bier in one of the great halls. All were dressed in rich black, with jewels of jet and onyx. Elani was dry-eyed as the mourners streamed past, but very pale. It was clear she hadn’t slept.
    She gave them a sad smile as they reached her. “So kind of you to come. Alaya liked you both very much.”
    “She was a great lady, Highness,” said Seregil.
    “I’m sorry for your loss, Highness,” Alec added, looking down at the dead woman’s waxen visage. Alaya was dressed for court, and her hands were crossed in front of her, rings glittering on every finger, but none of that allayed the wreckage of sunken eyes and too-prominent bones.
    “So much death this summer, and the whole war,” Elani murmured. “Grandmother Idrilain, and my aunt and uncle. And now this.”
    Unable to offer any meaningful comfort, they stayed long enough to be polite, then bowed and took their leave.
    The following morning, they went out again with Micum wearing different disguises and searched the neighborhood where they’d nearly caught the old woman and her guardian. No one had seen any sign of them, though, and Seregil grumbled about the timing of Alaya’s death. The scent seemed to have gone cold. Given the ravens’ previouspattern, Seregil expected word of them being on the far side of the Harvest Market next and had Kepi spread the word to his compatriots that any news would be worth a silver half.
    When they returned to the inn late that afternoon, Seregil noted at once that the horse yard was empty except for one exhausted, lathered black, and that there was no smoke coming from the kitchen chimney. Nor was there any of the usual bustle and noise coming through the open windows of the front room. Bad old memories of another too-quiet inn knotted his belly.
    “That’s Kari’s horse,” Micum noted in surprise.
    “I don’t like this,” muttered Seregil.
    “Neither do I,” whispered Alec.
    They approached the front of the house cautiously and peered in at the windows. The great room was empty, dishes and tankards still on the long tables as if everyone had left in a hurry.
    Moving quietly, they went down the servants’ corridor to the kitchen and found Tomin whittling in front of the fire. He jumped to his feet as soon as they came in and Seregil saw a small pack at the innkeeper’s feet.
    “What’s going on?” asked Alec.
    Tomin fiddled nervously with his knife as he took in their beggar garb. “A woman came here with a little girl, and brought the sleeping death with her. Claimed she knew you, my lords. The house cleared as if it was on fire. I sent Ema and the baby to her mother’s house.”
    “Where are the woman and girl?” Micum demanded.
    “I put them in the front room upstairs.”
    Micum was gone before Tomin had finished speaking, thundering up the front stairs. Seregil and Alec ran after him and caught up in time to hear their friend’s anguished cry.
    Illia, dressed for play in the Watermead fields, lay on the bed, staring sightlessly up at the ceiling. Micum fell to his knees by the bed, clasping one of his daughter’s small hands in his big, callused ones.
    Kari sat by the bed, pale as a ghost, her dark hair wild around her shoulders and dull with dust, as were her ridingclothes. She looked not at her husband, but at Seregil. “How could this happen?”
    “It’s—impossible!” Alec gasped.
    “Clearly not,” Seregil managed. “Kari, how long has she been like this?”
    “I found her like this in her bed yesterday morning. Nothing we did could bring her around. We sent for the drysian and she told us of the sickness here in the city. She said—” Kari swallowed, throat so dry that Seregil could hear it click across the room. “She said no one has survived more than a few days. I thought perhaps if Valerius could see her, he might be able to do something. Seregil, you’ll send for him, won’t you?”
    Seregil glanced at Micum, but he was