Arrow on the String: Solomon Sorrows Book 1 by Dan Fish (no david read aloud TXT) 📕

knew she couldn’t hear him outside the gods-stream, still regretted the words. Thought of Julia, her soul locked in the bow. Regretted the words. He stepped into a boot, grabbed the other.

“Solomon Sorrows flirting?” Jace asked. “Predictable. I thought you might like me better.”

“Better than what? Davrosh or Oray? Not difficult.”

“If you say so.”

Sorrows finished tying his boots, slipped into his tunic. “I do say so. I’m surprised Oray didn’t bring you to Godscry. Seems a better approach than to stick me with Davrosh for nearly a month.”

“Godscry with Solomon Sorrows? Tempting. Very tempting. But I prefer to limit my time with killers.”

“I didn’t kill those daughters.”

She looked at him, said nothing for a breath. “I’ve heard the others discuss the murders, of course. I suppose a guy like you wouldn’t use a bow in close quarters. Too many things could go wrong. You’d use a knife or a dagger.”

The words were accompanied by a frown. Jace rubbed at her chest, pushed her jerkin open a bit more. Sorrows caught hints of shadow and curve, dropped his gaze to his fingers as they fumbled with his buttons.

“You tell that to Davrosh or Oray?” he asked.

“Don’t need to. It’s obvious. They just needed you here to help find the killer.”

“Since when does the Mage Guard need help?”

“Since when does the Mage Guard admit needing help?”

The shuffling and snapping of fabric on fabric filled the room as Sorrows slipped his jerkin over his tunic. Jace walked to the door, leaned against the frame, studied him.

“If you went black instead of brown, you’d pass for Mage Guard.”

“Guess I’ll stick with brown. Or maybe find something yellow or red, just to be safe.”

“That bad?”

“Worse,” Sorrows said. He glanced at the bed. “If you know so much, why’d they take the bow?”

“Partly for leverage, I’d guess. You’ve held onto it too long. They knew they could use it to control you.”

“What’s the other part?”

“I don’t know,” Jace said.

“That so?”

“Yes. And it bothers me.”

“You know that much?”

“I know a bit. I listen. You learn a lot if you just listen. Try it sometime. You ready?”

She opened the door and led him back up the winding corridor. He counted doors. One on the left, two on the left, one on the right, three on the left. Jace walked beside him, boots landing softly on the stone. Long legs easily matching his stride. Golden hair hanging between her shoulder blades, gathered by cords tied at the base of her neck. He realized, too late, he’d lost count.

“You seem distracted?” she asked. She glanced at him, smirked.

Hells yes, I’m distracted. Sorrows looked at her. Wondered how he should answer the question. Not honestly. That was for sure. He said nothing. She smiled, turned away.

“The dwarves built the tower to be confusing,” she said. “They said it would give an advantage if there was ever an attack. But most of the Mage Guard believe they did it to confuse the elves.”

“Does it?”

A small laugh. “Confuse? Of course. There are doors with only wall behind them. It’s confusing as all hells.”

They’d been walking for a while. Enough that Sorrows could feel it in his legs. The company was nice, but the surroundings were bleak.

“We lost?” he asked.

“We’d reach the top eventually anyway,” she said. “But no, we’re not lost. We’re here.”

Jace stopped in front of a door, placed a hand on the handle, turned to him.

“Remember to listen closely, Solomon. You’ve been missing something.”

“I know,” he said. “I’ve been saying the same thing all along.”

“I’ll be here if you need me,” she said with a small smile. She opened the door.

The room was modest. Seven paces by seven, another five high. A rectangular table stood in its center. Honey-colored, tight grained. Oak. Thick. Four arrows rested on its surface, pushed off to one side. Parchment was scattered across the rest of it. Two hands pressed into an edge, bearing the weight of Overseer La’Jen Oray, who was perusing something scribbled in looping, black script. He didn’t look up.

“Sorrows,” he said. “See you found me. Come in. Just looking through some different cases. No murders, thankfully, but enough of the other stuff to keep us scrambling.”

Sorrows said nothing, moved to the arrows, picked one up, studied its length. Oray took a piece of parchment from the side, laid it over the one in front of him.

“We’ll meet with Davrosh and Ga’Shel in a few minutes,” he said. “Keep it civil. We’re all trying to save lives. We’re all on the same side.”

“But one of us is here as a prisoner.”

“Gods, Sorrows, you’re not a prisoner.”

“So, I’m free to leave?”

Oray hesitated, took his eyes off the parchment, stared at Sorrows. “Think of yourself as a guest with limited privileges.”

“A guest.”

“Of the Mage Guard,” he said. “You don’t need to talk if you don’t want to, but at least listen. You might catch a mistake. Nothing better than telling an elf he’s wrong, right?”

“I already told you keeping Davrosh on the case was a mistake. Didn’t do much.”

“I need her on this. I know things you don’t.”

“Like what?”

“Things.”

“What does limited privileges mean, exactly?”

“Means you have an escort with you at all times. Inside the tower or out.”

“Jace?”

“Who?”

“The elf who brought me here.”

The room fell silent. Oray worried at a corner of parchment. He shook his head. “I don’t know a Jace. Someone will be assigned.”

Sorrows thought of Mig. Thought of fewer complications. Still said, “Make it Jace.”

“You giving me an ultimatum in my tower?”

“Not an ultimatum. Just friendly advice. Think of it as a request with elevated privileges.”

“Fine.”

“Great.”

The parchment tore in Oray’s fingers. A small tear. Hardly noticeable. But one that might grow if picked at. One that might split the sheet in half, if the right tension pulled the two sides apart. Oray frowned and took a different sheet from the stack in front of him. Kept his eyes on the table.

“Davrosh told you about the daughters?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“About their broken gods-bonds?”

“Yes.”

“You find your bow?”

“Was on my bed. Not hard to find.”

“Julia still