Murder in Halruaa by Richard Meyers Read Free Book Online

inside to be used as storage space.
    The interior had been decorated with comfortable-looking wooden furniture, thick rugs, tasteful lamps, and the biggest stone fireplace Covington had ever seen. Accessories and household items were stored in the lowest branch holes.
    Much to Pryce’s surprise, there wasn’t a single magical item he could recognize in the comfortable home. There was, however, stacked on natural shelves running from branch to branch along the inner tree wall, a large collection of the one thing Pryce Covington truly held dear.
    “Books,” he breathed. “So many books.” He looked back at Lymwich, who remained purposefully, and stiffly, outside the door. “This is mine?”
    “The Grand Mage made his wishes clear,” she replied, a trifle enviously. “It’s yours.”
    He looked at the dwelling again, noticing large recessed areas that held the bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen. Silently he took back every bad thing he had ever said or thought about Gamor Turkal. This place had been created with Pryce Covington in mind.
    It was all too much. Covington felt giddy, almost faint. He realized that the ever-changing series of events was finally getting the better of him. But he didn’t feel like resting. Sleep was the last thing he wanted.
    “Very nice,” he finally understated. “This will do just fine. Tell me, my good inquisitrix, is there a local Gulp and Gasp about? Can I secure you a brew at the nearest Chew and Spew in the area?”
    *****
    “You think I didn’t notice?” Berridge Lymwich asked him, illustrating her point in the air with a tankard of ale. “I’m a first-ranked, top-class Instran Myquisitrix! I mean—well, you know what I mean. I notice everything!”
    They were on their third tankard of mead. She had led him outside his new home, then turned to the left where the wall of the cul-de-sac nestled against the stevlyman tree trunk. There, behind some flowering vines, was an almost hidden circular stairway made of iron.
    Pryce marveled at how the stairway was entirely concealed by the vines, so no one could see in and they couldn’t see out. He could hear the water of Lallor Bay lapping in the distance, however, and could see the light which bathed this stairway interior in a yellow-green glow. As they descended, Covington counted the steps. At the twenty-fifth step, they emerged from the vines onto a level between the inner wall of wizards’ castles and the bay. There Pryce looked out onto the most rustic area of the waterfront.
    “It’s the oldest section of the city,” Lymwich told him curtly. “Made by our first residents as an unprepossessing retreat.” She sniffed at its ancient stone and wood dwellings. “The whole thing should be torn down, I say.”
    Pryce disagreed. He admired the cunning way the original Lallor vacationers had made the dwellings seem simple, while still imbuing great character and charm to the houses. It reminded him of quaint rural villages back home, which practically exuded the sight, smell, and sound of family togetherness. Even
    now he thought he could hear the welcome sound of families singing and laughing with one another.
    “Come on,” Berridge grunted. “I didn’t bring you here for a picnic.” She motioned behind her with her thumb. Pryce looked where she was pointing and saw an establishment built directly into the rock wall. The window frames were wooden beams, the glass panes clear and thick. The big gray steel-enforced door bore a simple sign: Schreders. At Your Service.
    Inside, it seemed to be a comfortable combination of the most luxurious sea captain’s quarters and an imperial wizard’s cave. The walls and ceiling were not a consistent width or height throughout. Instead, upright wooden beams and crossbeams vied willy-nilly with stone and rocks to create many heights and widths. Between them were some of the finest wood chairs and sculpted stone tables Pryce had ever laid eyes on.
    Pryce was studying some lamps made to look