The Inquisitives [2] Night of Long Shadows by Paul Crilley Read Free Book Online Page A

found on the floor. It was a silver necklace, cheaply made. Hanging from the chain was a crystal dragon. “Do you know what this is?”
    Larrien squinted at it. “Hold on,” he said, and fished a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles from his pocket. He perched them on his nose. “That’s better.” He took the chain from Wren. “It’s a necklace,” he said.
    “Yes, it is. Well done, Larrien. You should be an inquisitive. Do you know what kind of necklace?”
    “I’ve no idea. It’s not really my area of expertise.”
    “This dragon isn’t just any old reptile. It’s the Boromar dragon.”
    He stared expectantly at Larrien.
    “Yes?” said the head of the university.
    Wren sighed. “These necklaces are given to courtesans in the employ of Boromar. The girls usually sell them, though they don’t make much. Was it common practice for professors to have, shall we say,
visitors
to their rooms?”
    “No, it was not!”
    Wren raised an eyebrow. “Come now, Larrien. Don’t lie to me. I’ll be very hurt if you do.”
    “Fine,” Larrien snapped. “Yes, it is fairly common for professors to have courtesans visit their rooms.”
    Wren turned to Torin. “Randy old buggers, eh?”
    “You should know. You’re about the same age.”
    “How dare you! Take that back.”
    “No.”
    “I demand—”
    “Wren,” Larrien interrupted.
    “What? Oh, of course. Sorry.” He pointed at Torin. “We’ll talk about this later.”
    “No, we won’t.”
    “Wren,” said Larrien. “What are your theories?”
    Wren shot Torin a dark look, then turned his attention back to Larrien. “I never discuss theories while working on a case.”
    Larrien all but collapsed with relief. “So you’ll look into it? Oh, thank Aureon. Does this mean I don’t have to involve the Watch?”
    “Larrien, you have an all but dismembered body lying in the university. Of course you’ll have to call in the Watch.”
    “But it’s all so
sordid
. Do they have to know the details?”
    Wren shrugged. “Tell them what you want. Let them do their own investigation. If they can be bothered, that is. Oh, and tell them to call in a cleric. He might be able to communicate with the body and find out some information.” He snapped his fingers. “Torin, come.”
    “Don’t speak to me like I’m a dog.”
    “Apologies. How would you like me to speak to you?”
    “Like I’m a person.”
    “Oh.”
    Wren grabbed the door and ran into the clerics he had earlier shooed away. He waved his arms in irritation as he pushed his way through them. “Get away from me. Move, move! You’re like flies!”
    He heard Torin’s voice behind him. “And you know what flies are attracted to, don’t you?”

The second day of Long Shadows
Far, the 27th day of Vult, 998
    W ren had traveled a lot over the years. He’d spent time in nearly all the Five Nations for one reason or another, usually accompanied by Torin. During that time, he’d come to the conclusion that you could judge the quality of a city by the liveliness of its night life.
    And Sharn’s night life was the best he had ever found.
    He smiled as he walked through the Firelight District of Lower Menthis, nodding genially at faces he recognized, looking around with interest at new inns or taverns that had opened since his last visit. A fortune teller’s shop had replaced old Fintal’s place. He used to sell the best spiced hot potatoes. And he was open all day and all night. Wren had often wondered how he did it. He’d eventually asked the old dwarf and it turned out he had a twin brother and they worked shifts. Wren had been slightly disappointed at that.
    Artificers and illusionists had bent and tweaked magical light into signs of a hundred different shapes and sizes, all ofthem inviting the lucky customer inside for one form of entertainment or another. It had become something of a competition to those in the trade, to see who could devise the brightest, most outlandish and eye-catching display. Wren