Page 6 of The Dragon King’s Claw (The Dragons of Serai #17)

By the time we reached the victim's home, I was fuming.

This was a new experience for me. Even on the rare occasion that I couldn't find a criminal, I never felt such anger.

And the King had done nothing truly terrible.

In fact, he usurped my case with the utmost charm.

I should have dealt with it better. But there was something about the man that got to me.

Yet another reason to keep my distance from the Dragon King.

But all of that is to explain why, when his knight, Vasren, opened the carriage door, and the King shifted to climb out, I held out a hand to stop him.

In short, I had enough of this nonsense.

“No!” I said. “You are not going in there.”

“What?” The King narrowed his eyes at me, his endless charm vanishing.

“You are the King of Rushao!”

“Yes, I am aware.”

“That is the home of a murder victim.” I pointed at the front door.

“As you can see, it is a modest home. The family inside is not expecting a royal visit.

Under normal circumstances, it would startle them.

As it is, your presence will be a burden.

They will try to hide their grief so as to not offend you.

They will be torn between the honor of such a visit and the horror of their loved one's death. And they will forever link you with this awful day in their minds. I conclude there is no benefit to you accompanying me.”

The Dragon King sat back. “I see.”

I waited. “No argument?”

“No. You're correct. I will wait here.”

I took a deep breath and let it out. “Thank you. This will be hard enough as it is.” I looked toward the door and hesitated.

It was always the worst part of a murder investigation.

I hated notifying the family. No one enjoyed it.

But because I enjoyed catching murderers, it felt odd to face the families of their victims. I felt almost ashamed.

It was a feeling that I had long ago dissected and accepted.

I may enjoy the hunt, but I also gave these people peace.

It was a fair exchange. And I always endeavored to be as compassionate as I could when I dealt with the families or with victims of any crime.

Compassion was difficult for me, so maybe it was a type of penance. I suffered a little with them.

“Claw Shinkai.” King Tor'rien laid his hand on my shoulder. “Please convey my condolences to the family.”

Sliding a glance his way, I nodded. It was the perfect prompt to get me past my reluctance.

I nearly thanked him for his insight, but I wasn't yet certain that the King was that perceptive.

So I simply exited the carriage. As I smoothed my coat, I glanced at Sir Vasren.

He was staring at me. I steeled myself for condemnation.

He had heard me speak to the King without respect.

Sir Vasren handed me the paper the King had confiscated and nodded, his expression conveying the opposite of what I expected.

“Thank you.” I took the paper, looked over the name, verified the address (that's one mistake I'd never make again), and went to the front door.

The home stood tall and narrow, surging up between identical constructions that continued down the block in an orderly fashion.

The buildings pressed up against each other with barely an inch between them.

I assumed they’d been constructed in sequence.

It wasn't unusual. Many neighborhoods in the city looked like this, only the style and size of the homes varying.

Movement caught my eye, and I looked up at the second floor. A curtain fell into place.

Sighing, I knocked.

Moments later, a Chelli woman yanked open the door and stared up at me with wide, bloodshot eyes. Despite the state of her eyes and the puffiness around them, she was a pretty woman, with glossy reddish-brown hair falling around her pale face in waves.

She looked from my somber face to the badge on my coat. “No,” she whispered. “Please, don't say it.”

“Mrs. Panne?” I asked.

She nodded, her lips trembling.

“I'm Claw Shinkai of the Hall of Talons. I'm so sorry—”

“No!” Mrs. Panne screamed as she crumpled.

I caught her, prepared for it. This wasn't the first widow I had consoled. “I'm so sorry, Mrs. Panne. I'm so very sorry.”

She looked up at me. “No, not Lansho. Please. He's a kind man. He's never hurt anyone.”

“I'm sure that's true. But I'm afraid he's gone now.”

“How?” Mrs. Panne clutched at my coat. “What happened to him?”

“He was murdered. I am in charge of finding those who killed him.”

“No. No, that's not possible. Why would anyone hurt him?”

“I don't know, Mrs. Panne. But I will find out.”

“No,” she sobbed and went limp.

“Mrs. Panne, do you have any family inside the house?” Just as I looked up, two boys came into the living room and stood in the doorway between it and the entry.

“Mama?” the smaller of the two called.

His mother didn't hear him over her weeping.

“Hello, children. I'm Claw Shinkai. Do any of your relatives live close by?”

The bigger boy nodded. “My uncle and aunty.” He pointed to his left. “Two doors down.”

“The second house from this one or the third?”

“Third.”

“Good boy.” I looked over my shoulder at the knight who still stood by the carriage door. Our stares met. “Sir Vasren, could you please go down to the third house to our right and ask the occupants to attend us?”

Sir Vasren looked at the King. The King, just visible past the open curtains, nodded. Sir Vasren hurried down the sidewalk, veering around a gathering crowd of Chelli neighbors. They backed out of his way, staring up at the much larger man.

“Mama?” the younger boy called again. Neither had moved from where they stood.

“She's going to be all right. Is there somewhere we can sit down?”

The little one nodded and pointed behind him.

“Good boy,” I said again. “Your uncle and aunt should be here soon.” I looked down at the woman. “May I pick you up and carry you to a seat, madam?”

She sobbed harder. I took that as consent and lifted her in my arms. Chelli were small people tending toward thinness.

With the difference in our sizes, she felt like a child in my arms. And she mourned like a child too, wailing and clutching at me.

It was hard not to give in to sympathy and cry with her.

But that was part of my penance. I had to be compassionate and strong.

I strode into the living room, leaving the door open for the relatives. Everything was Chelli-sized except for the house itself. This made the small home feel spacious. It also forced me to sit on the floor instead of the little couch. I did just that, cradling the crying woman.

By this time, the children had concluded that something awful was afoot, and they joined their mother in sobbing. This turned out to be exactly what she needed. Hearing the cries of her children, Mrs. Panne jolted up, eyes going wide, and turned toward the boys.

“My sons!” She climbed off my lap and ran to them. “Come here, boys. It's just us now. I'm so sorry. Your daddy is gone.”

“Gone where?” the smaller one asked.

I closed my eyes, seeking calm. I am a claw, not a monster.

Just the tip of a beast. The sharp tip of the King's law, meant to pierce the confusion and pull forth the criminals to punish them justly.

I can compartmentalize, but deep down, I still felt every loss.

And the sorrow of children cut me the deepest.

Thankfully, this was when the boys' uncle rushed in.

“Vissa!” the man cried.

“Oh, Rulli!” Mrs. Panne continued to hug her children as she looked over at the man. “They found him. He's . . .” she looked at her boys.

“I know, Sister. I've been told.” Rulli rushed over to the reduced family and took them in his arms.

Meanwhile, I stood up and stepped back, out of the way and respectful of their grief.

More family members were coming in—a woman and a little girl.

The woman clutched the girl to her side and stared at the bawling group with wide eyes.

I knew that look. It was a combination of grief, sympathy, and guilt.

Not that she had anything to do with the murder, but she was relieved it wasn't her husband who was dead.

A normal response, but when she looked at me and found me watching her, she flushed. Again, I understood.

I inclined my head to the woman. “I am Claw Shinkai. Could we speak?”

“No!” the man stood up and waved the woman over.

She drew the child with her and took her husband's place, kneeling into the grief circle. Meanwhile, Rulli hurried over to me.

He waved me toward the front door. “Please, Claw. Let's talk outside.”

“There is a crowd out there. Are you sure?”

“Yes. Better they hear this than my sister and the boys.”

I nodded and preceded him outside. As I turned to face Rulli, I caught the King staring at me through the carriage window. I ignored his sympathetic look. It was not helpful. It would only weaken my resolve. Rulli shut the door, glanced at his neighbors, then the royal carriage, and then at me.

“Perhaps we could go into your home?” I suggested.

Relief filled his face, and Rulli nodded. “Yes, please. This way.”

I followed him into his home. The place was very similar to the Panne home.

Without the wailing to distract me, I could see the details that spoke of wealth.

I had assumed the homes on this street were modest, but in Chelli terms, they were mansions.

The furniture was well made, there was art on the walls, and all the little decorations were expensive. Interesting.

A terrible relief came to me with the return of my calculating curiosity. I was glad to be away from the mourning family. This man had his emotions under control, probably for my benefit, and I was grateful for that. I could leave the compassion to the family now and focus on justice.

“I'd offer you a seat but . . .” He looked around.