“Of course!” Esset snapped so quickly there was no way that Toman could doubt the sentiment. “You know that.” That was a reprimand, no denying it, but this one Toman accepted. “But I want you to think, Toman, and not just act. I want you to be sure that this is what you want. You and I both know that one or both of us could die trying to stop him. If you want to go after him, I will be with you every step of the way, but I want you to be
sure
.”
“I’m—” Toman began, but Esset cut him off.
“Toman, just think on it.” Esset was far more subdued now. “Get better, keep working on your arm. We don’t even have to talk about it again. You know I’ll follow you no matter what you decide, but just think on it. Okay?”
Toman was taken aback by the fire in his brother’s eyes, but after a long moment, he nodded.
Having said his piece, Esset withdrew from the room, fairly certain that Toman would keep his word. He’d think on it, and even if his decision remained the same, that would be a good thing.
“Ah, Jonathan, there you are,” Mr. Esset said when Esset stepped into the hallway. “Are you ready to go?”
Esset glanced back at the bedroom, but “yeah” was all he said. He saw his father notice his tone and choose not to say anything as they grabbed their jackets.
“Jonathan!” his mother called as they were about to step out the door. They paused and waited for her to come bustling up the hallway.
“I packed lunches. And here’s your breakfast.” She pressed fried egg sandwiches into their hands. “Don’t forget to eat! I know how you two get when you’re working. Take care of each other.”
“Yes, Mom,” Esset said long-sufferingly, accepting the non-optional package and tucking it in his bag.
“Thanks, hun,” Mr. Esset kissed his wife and the two men escaped to Sedina's cobbled streets.
Esset looked in the university's direction but it was hidden behind the tall roofs of the modest homes that cramped the narrow streets. He could, however, see the royal castle that the university nestled against, its fortifications towering over the city.
“So what’s been going on at the university?” Esset asked as they left the house behind.
“Hm… The usual, mostly,” Mr. Esset began. “Korf is away, tracking a rumor that there’s a traveling merchant with a rare scroll in the next town over. Haesher’s daughter is getting married, and he’s still in a tiff about the soldier who courted her.” He lifted a hand to wave to a smiling neighbor.
“I thought they’d managed to convince him being a soldier was okay?” Esset asked.
“They had…until Haesher found out that the soldier’s father was born on the Islands.”
Esset winced. “And now Haesher thinks he’s an Islander spy.” Haesher was notoriously paranoid. A pair of children darted past, shrieking and giggling madly in play.
“And the drama continues,” Mr. Esset actually looked rather amused by the whole situation. After all, the Islands were trade partners with Symria.
Esset shook his head. “Speaking of paranoia, what’s up with Forris? Last I heard, a maid accidentally let a cat into his lab and it went after his test rats.” Esset wondered if Forris had managed to get the maid fired. He hoped not; it was an innocent enough mistake.
“Forris…went missing. He was one of the first, actually. We haven’t found his body, but he’s not the only one.” Mr. Esset looked away and Esset went silent. Forris had always had many radical ideas, and his paranoia, like Haesher’s, had always been a source of drama and entertainment, but Esset had liked the man. Sedina's university had collected an eclectic assortment of rather brilliant scholars, and Forris had been among them.
“What about his work?” Esset asked after a long silence.
“The church officials still want it destroyed, but we’re trying to get his research archived. After all, he revolutionized the study of healing. Who would have thought of generating and curing disease in animals and using the results to cure ailments in humans? Brilliant. Sure, results were only repeatable when magic healing was used, but it’s only a matter of time before some of the results can be used to aid herbalism as well.”
“I don’t think the church liked his idea of using magic to augment humans with animal traits.” Esset himself found the idea fascinating, but even he wasn’t sure that would be a good idea.
“Well, no. That was a little extreme,” Mr. Esset admitted. “But all the research is linked. It was only because he was researching hybridizing animal traits that he made the advancement in healing.”
“I know. I hope you manage to persuade the church and the university to preserve…” Esset’s voice trailed off as they turned a bend and saw a crowd up ahead, “…the research. What do you suppose is going on up there?” Esset changed their trajectory to investigate.
“Guardsmen,” Mr. Esset noted as they drew closer. Sure enough, two men in uniform were trying to push back a crowd of twenty or so people. The expressions on the people’s faces were telling: horror, curiosity, fear. The guardsmen looked grim.
“Guard Harn!” Mr. Esset called. The guard, an average-looking fellow with bulging biceps, glanced over at the call.
“Mr. Esset,” he acknowledged them. His crowd was slowly dispersing, so he gave them his full attention. He appraised Esset for a moment and deducted who he was.
“Summoner.”
“Guard,” Esset greeted him back.
“Is it…” Mr. Esset glanced at the departing crowd.
“Another one.” Guard Harn gave a curt nod. “Better come take a look.”
Esset glanced at his father in time to see him steel himself and felt a wave of sympathy. Mr. Esset hadn’t even done the same adventuring as Esset, let alone fought in wars. Seeing a dead body would be difficult for him—not that it was ever easy. The guard led them forward and Esset mentally added: especially a body like this one.
The victim was a young woman, and it looked like a wild animal had slashed her to ribbons with its claws. Her blue eyes stared sightlessly at the sky. She’d been dragged into an alleyway and left discarded next to a manhole and a pile of rubble from the building adjacent, which seemed to be under construction.
“It certainly does look like it was an animal,” Mr. Esset said. Esset nodded, but something seemed odd. He knelt next to the body to study it closer. He reached a hand out and closed her eyes, knowing he would remember them later—he always remembered the staring eyes of the dead.
“Do you know who she was?” Esset asked, momentarily distracted.
Guard Harn shook his head when Esset looked at him. “I’ve seen her before, but I don’t know her,” he said.
“Tabby. Er, Tabitha,” the other guard replied. “She was the cooper’s daughter. Nice girl, always smiling. I didn’t know her well, but I did help her out one night. A drunk was giving her trouble on her way home, so I walked with her.”
Esset looked back down at her and spotted what was bothering him. “Look at this cut,” Esset said. It ran straight down from just under her ribs to her navel. It was perfectly straight, and the cut was clean. Guard Harn crouched next to him.
“There’s no way claws made this incision. Only a sharp, straight edge like a knife could cause this,” Esset said. He debated whether to add another suspicion to that as well.
“That—” the guard frowned and inspected the wound more closely. “You might be right,” Guard Harn conceded.
“Did someone defile the body after she died?” Mr. Esset guessed.
“I don’t see how,” Guard Harn said. “Our witnesses said they heard screaming and came running, but they found her like this. I don’t see how someone would have had time to get to the body and do anything to it without being seen.”
“Then it’s either something supernatural or someone wants to make us think it’s an animal or monster,” Esset said.
“That seems reasonable,” Mr. Esset agreed.
Guard Harn glanced between them.
“We just can’t figure out how it’s getting away so quickly. This alley dead-ends back there, but there’s no sign of the killer,” the other guard said. Esset glanced around the alley, and his eyes fell on the manhole cover. It was sitting slightly ajar, its lid caught on a rock.
“Have you checked the sewers?” Esset asked. Guard Harn followed his gaze and went over to the cover. The lid was heavy, but still easily moved by one man. An unpleasant—to say the least—odor wafted into the alley.
Esset went to peer down into the murky darkness.
“He’ll be long gone by now,” he said.
“Mmm,” Guard Harn agreed. He dropped the cover back into place and looked back at the body.
“The undertaker will be here soon. Once she’s safely away, we’ll assemble a squad and search the sewers,” Guard Harn ordered. The other guard gave the manhole cover a look that was less than enthusiastic.
Esset found himself looking at the body again, particularly the long abdominal cut. “You don’t suppose…” he began. Then he had to continue, because Guard Harn was giving him a curious look.
“Why the abdominal cut?” Esset asked. “The rest of this just looks like an animal attack, inflicted to kill or subdue an opponent. But a cut like that is specific, probably made after death. If people were coming in a hurry, why take the time?”
No one had an answer.
“Could we… get a healer to look at her?” Esset requested.
“She’s dead.”
“I know, but maybe more was done than just the cut. Maybe something was…removed. Could it hurt to look?” Esset coaxed. He thought he heard the other guard mutter something about defiling the dead—and Esset did sympathize—but after a long, thoughtful look, Guard Harn nodded.
“Very well. We’re still waiting for the undertaker to get her, but we’ll have a healer look at her before she’s buried.”
“Thank you,” Esset said. “What about the other victims? How many have there been?”
“We’ve found three bodies, all mangled like this one.” Guard Harn paused and studied the body a moment longer. “No,” the guard corrected himself. “They’ve been getting worse, little by little. I couldn’t tell you if they all had that particular cut though. I never noticed. No one did.”
Esset had guessed as much, but he kept that to himself. Apparently he’d learned more than he’d thought while he’d been hunting various monsters with Toman. “What about missing people?” Esset asked, remembering his father’s words.
“Four people have been reported missing, but one of those we suspect is just a runaway. Depending on what kind of people this monster goes after, we might not have heard. Like people from the corner district,” Guard Harn said. The corner district was the undesirable part of the city—beggars and criminals tended to congregate there.
Esset nodded his understanding. He was about to ask another question when the clop of hooves and creak of wooden wheels signaled the undertaker’s arrival. Esset had to keep his lips from twitching into a smile at the man’s stereotypical appearance: black garments, pale skin, and a long, drawn face.
“Guard,” the undertaker greeted Guard Harn as his horse and cart pulled up.
“Undertaker,” Guard Harn replied with a nod.
“Esset, why don’t we head to the guard house now?” Mr. Esset suggested. “They’ve a map of where victims were found. Maybe we can see if there are sewer entrances near all of them.”
Esset nodded.
“I’ll join you there soon,” Guard Harn said by way of farewell.
Mr. Esset waited until they were a respectful distance away before patting his son on the shoulder.
“I’m proud of you, son,” he said.
Esset shot his dad an odd look. “We haven’t caught the killer yet,” Esset said.
“I know, but you’ve already helped the investigation along,” Mr. Esset replied. “They called me in to answer questions about Forris, but I fear I wasn’t very useful. You’re far more like the summoners of old, helping the kingdom in times of need. I’m just a scholar.”
“You do valuable work,” Esset objected. “And the original summoner was a scholar too.”
“I know,” Mr. Esset said, smiling. “And I have no regrets with my path in life, but when I can’t summon anything past a horse, I hold the summoner’s title in name only. But you—I’m proud of you.”
Esset flushed a little. “Uh, thanks.”
Mr. Esset patted him on the shoulder again and when they rounded the corner, the guard house came into view.
The stone building hummed with activity; guards and civilians bustled in and out, dealing with everyday disputes and squabbles. The guard at the desk recognized Mr. Esset and, like Guard Harn, recalled that Mr. Esset’s son had been called to help. He waved them through without pausing in his discussion with an irate merchant. They headed for a man with greying hair in a small office; the door was open.
"Captain," Mr. Esset greeted the man. "This is my son, Jonathan."
"Good to meet you, Jonathan, I'm Captain Carlson." The captain rose and leaned over his desk so he could shake Esset's hand.
"The honor is mine," Esset replied. "Guard Harn filled me in on some of the details of the case, but said you'd have more."
"You met Harn?" the captain asked, eyebrows rising.
"We ran into him as he reached the latest victim," Mr. Esset said.
"Ah. Well, it's good you've seen things firsthand and spoken to Harn then. He's lead investigator. I'll get you caught up on what we have," the captain said. "Where would you like to start?"
"The victims. Are there any connections between them?" Esset asked. The captain shook his head.
"One old woman—a drunk—a foreign merchant, and a carpenter. And now a girl," the captain said.
"A cooper's daughter," Mr. Esset supplied, and the captain nodded his thanks for the information.
"None of them seemed to know each other. As for the missing…well, there's a boy, but we figure he's just a runaway who hitched a ride with a merchant caravan. The others are a scholar, a housewife, a butcher, and a kooky old nuisance who sold cure-alls." The captain relayed the information matter-of-factly, except for that last bit, which had a hint of "good riddance" to it. Esset imagined there was history there.
"What about where the bodies were found?" Esset asked. The captain waved at a map on the wall, one marked with red and blue pins.
"The red pins are where the bodies were found. The blue ones are the residences and work places of the missing folks."