Page 22 of Death of the Glass Angel (Apotheosis #1)

The woman hurriedly cleaned up and gestured for them to sit at the table. After shoving the clutter onto a counter by her cooking pot, the woman sat, nervously knitting her hands together as she watched them expectantly.

Laying out the list of names and her journal, Des pulled out a quill and dipped it in ink. “Tell me about your son. Describe him.”

“Hertwig was only eighteen.” The woman explained. “About this tall.” She held her hand up, displaying a height that was a couple of inches shorter than Talon’s. “He was a stormborn. Green eyes, pale. Long steel hair.”

Jotting down the details, Des nodded. “And when was the last time you saw him?”

“A few months ago, now, I suppose.” The woman’s eyes were distracted before she continued. “He was just going to visit his friend down the street. I never paid much attention to where they ran off. They’d been playing in the mountain pass for years.”

“Did this friend give an account of the night?”

“No. He never came back, either.”

“Interesting. Did you know him well enough to tell me about him?

“As well as my son, just about.” The woman said. “He was a stormborn, too. A little taller than Hertwig, a little broader. White hair kept short. Lavender eyes.” She paused, jerking. “Oh. His name was Ernolf.”

Des scanned the list of names, finding a match. She placed a dash by his name before copying his description and destination the night they went missing. Two young cefra, stolen on the same night. Hiding two bodies would be an arduous task for only one killer. Perhaps there were multiple.

“And,” Des continued, “Was there anything unusual about your son? An occupation or something of the like?”

“Not that I know of.” The woman furrowed her brow. “He worked at a carpenter’s shop but had only just started. He normally kept to himself and stayed home otherwise.”

Nothing to go on there, but maybe he had been hiding things from his mother. He would hardly be the first kid to do so.

“Thank you.” Des sat back. “This should be enough.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Thank you for your cooperation.”

The woman shot to her feet. “I’ve given up hope, but if you find him. . .”

“I’ll do what I can. If we learn anything to give you hope or resolution, I’ll see that you hear of it.” Des curtsied and turned away, and Talon followed her onto the street.

“Oh boy,” Talon muttered as the door closed behind them. “This is going to take a while.”

“Better get comfortable,” Des said. “Want to take turns doing the questioning? I bet people will be more inviting towards me.”

“I doubt it. I ooze charm and innocence.” Talon snatched and read the list of names. “People love me.”

“I’m sure they do.” Des teased him.

Flicking the paper upon finding the next name with a residency, Talon walked off. Des sauntered alongside him, tense and alert, peering into alleys and watching any passersby. How quickly she had forgone Gemellus’ suggestion to remain inside her suite.

A couple of hours passed by as they traveled from house to house, interviewing the relatives of the victims. Some slammed the door in their face, others were skeptical, while most seemed happy someone was bothering to look into the case at all.

With each encounter, Des noted the victim’s appearance, age, gender, and race, and where they had disappeared.

And to her chagrin, people seemed more willing to speak with Talon than her.

He employed this voice when speaking with them, a tone he’d used on her. Calm, comforting, commanding. It set them at ease within seconds.

Des supposed he won this battle, then.

After going through about half the names and en route to their twenty-sixth, Des read over her notes and slowed to a stop mid-street. Talon noticed and turned around. “What?”

“The pattern is clear.” She flipped her journal around and pointed at her notes. “All are male, stormborn cefra, and under forty.”

“And most went missing on the south side or in the mountain pass,” Talon concluded. “But the other half might break the pattern.”

“I think that’s unlikely.”

“You never know. Sometimes you think you have it all figured out, and then a new piece of information shatters everything you believed.”

“Yes, but most left on the list were prisoners,” Des said. “How exactly would we find information on them?”

“Let me take a look, then.” Talon agreed. “There’s a park nearby we can take a break in.”

Park proved an undeserved word. A lot of dirt greeted them, with a few structures for children to play on and a handful of benches beneath trees. At least a pleasant view of the mountain pass beyond welcomed them.

“Splitting up would have made this considerably faster,” Talon sighed. “There goes my day.”

“Did you insist we stay together because you finally realized I’m the most desirable woman in the city?”

“I’d bleed myself dry before I let another man touch you.” He smirked. “Let’s get started.”

* * *

Des sat beneath the tall pine, reading over her notes. The pattern seemed clear as day on a second glance.

“Well,” Talon leaned toward her. “We found the pattern, but we’ve the entire mountain pass to search for bodies.”

Drumming on her journal, Des stared into the distance.

Janus owned a book on every city, detailing its architecture, history, and other relevant information.

Des had never taken much interest in it, but Weisskopf City, an ancient edifice, had been one of Janus’s favorites, in part for the tunnels said to be riddling the surrounding mountains.

Maybe one was nearby.

“I have an idea.” Des stood, snapping her journal closed and tucking it into her bag. “Follow me.”

“Follow me.” Talon echoed, lazily standing. “Are you going to tell me where to?”

“What if he’s hiding in the old tunnels through the mountain passes? Nobody uses them.”

“And where do you think we’ll find one?”

“In the mountain pass, if I had to guess.”

“Great,” Talon muttered sarcastically. “That narrows it down.”

Following the south street, Des stood on her tiptoes, scanning the mountains. Janus would know precisely where to look, but unfortunately, she would barely remember today.

“Des,” Talon whispered.

“What?” She hissed back.

“Does that guy seem like he’s following us? The one in the brown coat.”

Resisting the urge to spin around, Des twisted, pretending to adjust her bun.

She surveyed the crowd, attention landing on an ordinary-looking man in a brown coat, his face unremarkable: brown hair, beard, and eyes.

Yet his gaze was plastered to their backs, and he looked away when Des turned around.

“He might be,” Des muttered back. “Should we shake him?’

“No. Why don’t we turn it around, follow him?”

“How do we do that?”

“Let me show you.” Talon spun on his heel and approached the man. “Excuse me. We’re looking into the recent disappearances. Do you know any of the victims?”

“No.” The man said standoffishly, marching away.

Talon raised his eyebrows. “That worked better than expected. Shall we?” He winked at Des and followed the suspicious man.

Bend after bend, the man weaved through the slums. Talon tailed like he’d been born in a back alley, effortlessly slipping into door frames and corners to avoid notice.

Des hung back, following the bright blue coat Talon always wore.

They kept the chase up until they reached a quiet, empty alley behind what appeared to be a warehouse.

“Where did he go?” Des asked, spinning around in search of their quarry.

“I don’t know,” Talon muttered, peering around corners and eyeing the locked gate of the warehouse. “Think he’s the one responsible?”

“Maybe. You are a young male stormborn. Maybe he was interested in you.”

“Let’s hope not.” Talon shivered. “Well, that’s that, I guess.”

“One minute.” Des insisted, pacing around the alley again.

These roads were hardly defined, nothing more than packed dirt. Scanning for footprints, Des noticed a disturbance where someone had run through, stepping heavily. The scuffed dirt ceased in a corner behind the warehouse, where a heavy latch led underground.

“Here,” Des said, leaning down to pull the hatch open.

The heavy-looking latch opened with surprising ease, revealing a square hole set with a ladder, descending into darkness, not the cellar Des had been expecting.

Reaching into his bag, Talon pulled out a small hand lantern and flinched as he struck a fire inside. “If someone leaps from the shadows and stabs me. . .” He looked pointedly at Des before descending the ladder.

About ten feet down, Talon’s lantern illuminated a rough stone floor. Consumed with a sudden urge to impress him, Des carefully placed a hand on the ladder, eyeing the distance to the ground before sliding to the bottom in a smooth motion.

She landed more gracefully than expected, her heart thrumming. Swallowing her surprise, Des ran a hand through her hair and placed a hand on an exaggeratedly bent hip.

“Wow,” Talon said sarcastically. “I prefer to use ladders like a normal person.”

Des waved him off. “He’s getting away.”

“Mhm.” Talon spun around and carefully progressed through the tunnel, the lantern held away from him.

Noticing his trepidation with the flickering flame, Des reached for it. “Let me.”

Relieved, Talon handed her the lantern and grabbed his dagger.

This tunnel was ancient. Grooves and low-hanging rocks made the trek arduous. Once-smoothed walls had crumbled in places, collecting rocks across the path.

Their echoing footsteps set Des on edge, but she did not hear anyone else. Had their man not taken this path?

A fork in the road appeared, with one tunnel continuing straight and the other turning east. Pausing, Des glanced between the two. “Where to?”

“Keep south, I guess. We can always turn around.” Talon suggested.

Heeding his advice, Des continued, the path sloping upwards gradually until another ladder appeared at a dead end. She touched the first rung, only to hear Talon click his tongue behind her.

“Not going to slide up this one?”

“How would I do that, Talon?” Des said. “Be reasonable.” She climbed up, hearing him sigh aggrievedly behind her.

A latch awaited at the top, and it swung open easily. Des emerged into a rocky, cramped area amidst the mountains, two thin trails leading away. Talon appeared beside her, and the hatch swung closed.

He rotated, taking in their location. “If I’m right, the south road is right over there.” He pointed down one of the trails.

“Where did the other tunnel lead?”

“I’m not sure. I think we lost him, regardless.”

“Then we should go back.” She turned to open the hatch, but Talon grabbed her wrist, prying her hand away.

“It’s evening.” He gestured to the setting sun. “And I’m not letting you wander through the tunnel, potentially into a murderer’s lair, while assassins are after you. We’re getting you back to the suites and back under guard.”

Des scrunched her mouth, preparing to protest, but let the matter lie. “Fine.” She stood and brushed her pants off. “We can continue this another day.”

Walking quickly, Talon followed the thin trail, a nervous tick to his movements. “I don’t think this is connected to your assassins. I’m not sure it’s worth pursuing.”

“You don’t want to know what happened to all these people?”

“I guess I’m mildly curious, but finding them isn’t my job.”

“Right. Spying on me is.”

“I already admitted I was a songbird, didn’t I?”

There it was again, him admitting he was part of the world’s most secretive guild, all too casually. Doubt infected Des again.

“Okay.” She narrowed her eyes and walked closer. “What are you spying on me for? Secrets? Royal drama?”

He smirked at her, remaining silent.

“You have an irritating face.”

“Jabs like that won’t work, darling.” Talon teased. “I draw eyes everywhere I go, and even the tightest tongues come unwound with a bat of my eyes.”

Des wanted to tell him he was a vain idiot. A wrong, vain idiot. But he’d proven his boast earlier today.

In her silence, his smile widened.

“But,” He articulated, “I can’t slide down a ladder like that. Especially not when I’m trying to impress someone.”

Des’ mouth clicked open. Snickering, Talon quickened his pace. Chasing after him, Des protested. “I was not trying to impress you.”

Planting a boot on a rock, Talon sighed with relief. “There’s the main road.” A distant smudge, Des could see gates down the mountain pass.

As they returned to the safety of civilization, Des glanced over her shoulder, studying the vast mountains rising behind them. She’d spent years tailing Evander or practicing voices in the mirror, but had never conducted a real investigation. Today had been fun. Thrilling.

She whirled around, grinning. Talon was staring back at her, smiling. It was a thin smile, barely noticeable, but Des noticed something in the expression.

That was a genuine smile. The first he’d worn since they’d met.