To his right-
A flicker of movement directly above him had Tallis diving into the right-hand alley. He looked over his shoulder and saw the young woman drop to the ground like a cat from high above, landing with only the sleight scuffle of her boots and one palm to the cobbles. In her other glove was her hand crossbow, loaded again.
“Blunted!” he said, then rose and started away down the deadend alley.
Soneste was accustomed to Sharn’s spires rising high overhead and its dizzying precipices yawning before her, yet somehow Korth’s towers felt more oppressive, especially in the backstreets. Their sheer walls were pressed closer together as if the city was one vast prison complex, with only a network of narrow courtyards serving as streets. Her drop from the third story had been smooth, and the hum of another of her powers faded away.
Soneste kept her eyes on her quarry, but from her peripheral vision she saw there were a couple of citizens nearby. “Call the White Lions,” she bade as she gestured to one with her free hand, “There’s a reward. Go now!” The other hand she raised, pointing her crossbow at Tallis.
Tallis walked backwards, facing her. She’d cornered him in an alley that extended half a block before giving way to an open sky-the edge of the Commerce Ward, which dropped in a sheer cliff forty feet above the streets of the Community Ward.
Closer to him now, Tallis appeared younger than she’d taken him for. The haughty, almond-shaped eyes of an elf were offset by a jocular mouth and longish, sable-black hair. His ears tapered only sleightly. Even accounting for his elven blood, he was a good deal younger than Jotrem. They could not have been classmates. The older inquisitive might have been Tallis’s superior officer.
Even as she studied him, he offered a toothy smile like a street urchin with a piece of stolen fruit. Soneste reminded herself that he’d been there at ir’Daresh’s suite. He might have been party to the murder of the ambassador, his wife, and their two children. The Justice Ministry’s records had listed several other killings over the course of his criminal career. Mostly other criminals, suspect politicians, and known Cultists of the Blood. What was he after in all this?
Tallis was clad in black like many Karrns, but his attire was tailored like a uniform, the sign of a professional man of action who wanted no restriction to his movement. He carried no obvious weapons, but two metal rods hung from his belt, as though they were death-dealing wands and he an accomplished war-mage. But by all reports, Tallis was no spellcaster. Soneste did note a single ring on his left hand-a silvery band with a stylized dragon’s head on it. He didn’t wear a Rekkenmark ring.
“Tallis,” she began, “in the name of King Kaius III of Karrnath-”
“So what brings a fawn-eyed girl like you into Khorvaire’s fairest kingdom this lovely day?” Tallis gestured at the leaden sky.
Soneste clenched her teeth for a moment. “-and King Boranel of Breland, surrender to the justice afforded you.”
Tallis raised his eyebrows. “You came from Breland? Really? Say, do they still serve those Aundairian pastries on the rail dining carts? Glorious taste, but they run amuck in the Cogs, if you know what I mean.”
Tallis continued his backward advance, but Soneste kept pace. She noted with satisfaction that the only door that led to the alley-the only means by which he could try another escape-was blocked up by a heavy stack of rain-soaked crates. A small, battered cart lay discarded near the alley’s far end, one wheel propped against the stone wall.
“Not two days ago I walked the skybridges of Sharn,” she answered with a thin smile. “Breland sends more than some no-name sleuth to bring political murderers to justice.”
Tallis smirked, but she could see the implications reach into his eyes. “I didn’t kill that man,” he said, more seriously now, “or his family.”
“If you’re telling the truth, Tallis, then why did you run from me?”
“I don’t know you,” he answered with a boyish grin. “A pretty girl starts to chase me with a weapon. Thrilled as I am by that, I prefer a more formal courtship.”
Soneste rolled her eyes. Did he expect this to buy him time?
“You know as well as I do that they just want someone to blame,” he continued. “I am apparently the only suspect? The Justice Ministry and your king are all doing an excellent job, miss.”
“If you’re innocent of this crime,” she offered, throwing his sarcasm back at him, “perhaps you’d like to assist me in finding the real killer?”
Tallis let out a resigned sigh. “I must decline, sadly.” He started to move past the propped cart, mere steps away from the bluff’s edge.
Without taking her eyes away off him, Soneste drew the sleeve of her coat across the razor tip of the loaded crossbow bolt. The sealed edge of the flat pouch sewed there tore open, freeing its contents. A thin, cobalt-colored paste now slicked the steel tip.
Tallis froze two steps from the edge. “Poison?” He was incredulous, or he feigned it well.
“Blue whinnis,” she said. “Just a sting, and you’ll sleep for hours.”
Tallis licked his lips, his hands held up. “You must really like me.”
Less than ten feet from him, Soneste knew she couldn’t miss, but his proximity to the edge made her nervous. With her free hand, she swept a stray lock of hair back from her eyes, raising her crossbow for better aim.
“Far enough!” she shouted. Hadn’t this same man scaled the Ebonspire?
“Sorry,” he answered with a shrug, stepping back again-
— and dropped soundlessly over the cliff’s edge, falling out of sight.
Soneste cursed, lunging forward and dropping her crossbow to reach for him with two hands. As she reached the edge, she saw he hadn’t fallen far at all. He clung with both hands to a pair of steel bars protruding conveniently near the cliff’s edge.
No, not merely convenient. The two metal rods he’d worn at his belt hung in the empty air by some invisible magic, and as his body swung beneath them, they didn’t quiver at all.
On her knees, Soneste stared down at him. “That was your cunning escape?”
Though exerted from the maneuver, he winked back at her. She flushed, then turned away to retrieve her hand crossbow. With speed and agility that belied his slender frame, Tallis vaulted upward and reached his feet to the edge. As he did, the floating rods released and locked again, providing him the means to leverage his body up and over the edge.
Soneste picked her crossbow up and started to turn, but Tallis was already there. A kick to her hand sent the weapon clattering against the wall. Despite the pain in her wrist, she began to draw out her rapier. Tallis grasped the blade halfway from its sheath, arresting the attempt.
“Enough!” he grunted, lifting her light frame and slamming her back hard against the wall. The force of the blow expelled the air from her lungs, and she was unable to stop him as he pressed one of the rods into her stomach.
The rod locked again firmly in place, pinning her against the stone. Dodging her kicks, he grasped one ankle and placed the other rod just beneath her foot. It held there, allowing her weight to settle on it. The pressure against her stomach subsided sleightly. Tallis drew a length of black cord from his left sleeve and coiled it fast around her wrists, binding them together.
Soneste’s felt her face burn, ashamed to be so swiftly subdued. “The law will not be forgiving,” she said, struggling for air. “You are admitting your guilt.”
“My guilt?” Tallis shook his head, then glared up at her. His face was flushed from the struggle. “Look, Miss Not Some No-Name Sleuth from Sharn, if you’d taken the rail like most folks, you might have had the time to read up on Karrnathi justice. I was guilty the moment my name made Hyran’s list as a suspect. The first poor fool you bring in will get the sword. Then everything will quiet down until the real killer kills again. Hyran means well, but politics demand retribution. Not justice.”