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

slow circle, searching the rooftops, the hedge, the long row of staggered homes. Jace was gone. She had probably slipped the moment she stepped out the door. Davrosh looked at him, frowned. She was asking, What are you doing? Sorrows gave a small, dismissive shake of his head, shrugged.

“Did you see her?” he asked.

“Who?”

He said nothing, walked to the yellow door, glanced inside. Just the body. He closed the door, returned to Davrosh.

“Jace.”

“What are you talking about?”

“She was here, just now. The wretch in the room was Jace.”

“Gods. Did she say anything?”

“Nothing.”

“Why didn’t she just slip and wait until we left?”

“Why was she here at all?”

“Did she give that to you?”

Davrosh pointed, and Sorrows reached. He pulled something from the tangles of his hair. Held it in his hand. A silver pin, long, sharp. Goblin-crafted.

“Mig,” he said.

“You’re sure?”

“No. But I’ve seen her wear things like this.”

“She’s got a bit of fire in her, doesn’t she?”

Sorrows shrugged. “She’s goblin.”

“I like it.”

“I don’t. Not now. Hoping this belongs to someone else. She’s no match for Jace.”

“She wouldn’t try to take on Jace alone, would she?”

Sorrows said nothing. They both knew how goblins handled problems. All haste, no subtlety. He put the pin in a cloak pocket, shrugged.

“I’ll worry about that later. Right now we need to open the rest of those doors.”

“Do you remember which ones La’Jen opened?” Davrosh asked.

“Doesn’t matter. We’ll check them all if we have to.”

Davrosh stepped beside Sorrows. Looked up at him. “How did you know he and Ostev were headed to Beggar’s Hollow?”

“Didn’t. Was always the plan to come here.”

“Why?”

“Hunting.”

Davrosh made a face. “Gods, what’s there to hunt in the Hollow?”

“Monsters.”

Sorrows walked to the next door, opened it. Another body. More blood. No hands. Mouth hanging open, lips torn. Forehead caved in. He left the hovel, shut the door, continued down the row of homes. Davrosh fell in beside him. They knocked, opened, stepped in or moved on. Methodical, thorough. They stopped in the early afternoon with the sun overhead. The last four doors they’d opened were occupied. The trail ended. They’d found nineteen bodies.

“Cursed?” Davrosh asked.

“Not Cursed,” Sorrows said. “Too similar. Face, hands. Just like Utuur. This is worse.”

They walked the road back to the City Guard armory. The day was bright, blue. Snow clung to rooftops. A good day for a walk, if not for the smell of Beggar’s Hollow. Sorrows pulled his cloak over his mouth, tried to inhale as little as possible.

“The hands can’t be coincidence,” Davrosh said. “I think Jace is involved somehow.”

“Probably.”

“She didn’t say anything to you? Just stuck the pin in your hair and disappeared?”

“Something like that.”

Davrosh sighed. “You realize, if that’s Mig’s pin—”

“I know.”

“I liked her, for what it’s worth.”

“Not worth much. You didn’t know her.”

“Don’t need to know her to like her, orchole. We shadowed you and the Costennati twins in Tam for a day or two. Ga’Shel wanted to be sure he could track Fen. Learned to track Mig, too. Just in case. After watching her for half a day, it was clear she could do better than you.”

“That so?”

Davrosh barked a laugh. “It is and you know it. But the heart wants what the heart wants. Nothing we can do about it.”

Sorrows felt the pin in his pocket. Felt the memory of Jace on his lips. He sighed.

“Nothing we can do about it.”

✽✽✽

THEY ARRIVED AT Galagrin Manor early. Granite and white marble. Columns, balusters, twin staircases. Rugs deep blue like the new night sky, decorated with silver stags standing among silver trees. After a while, the homes of the wealthy all seemed the same. The same walls, same floors, same foyers and halls leading to the same sitting rooms and great halls. Only the paintings changed. New dwarves with new looks. The Galagrin matriarchy was bare-faced, stoic. Eyes like gemstones, amethyst and sapphire. A dozen sons to a generation. Broad chests, wide shoulders. Black beards braided and hanging to their waists.

Sorrows and Davrosh shared a whiskey with Reishi’s parents, spent the evening studying the crowd, picking at plates of cold chicken, cheese, dried fruit. The music was warm, engaging. Many of the same songs played by many of the same musicians. Sorrows recognized two of the lutists and the drummer. Davrosh knew them all. And they all knew Davrosh. For all her supposed disinterest in attending the parties, she was at ease and admired. A handful of dwarves sought her out in the first hour, striking up conversations, laughing a little too easily at her jests. The less bold watched her with sideways glances. She stood a handspan taller than most dwarves. Her brown hair set her apart, as did her more slender build and fine features. Sorrows conceded her appeal among dwarves, though he didn’t share their tastes. As the evening wore on and ale flowed more freely, the less bold gained courage. Sideways glances became hesitant attempts at dialog. When Reishi had finished her dance and the floor was opened to guests, the bold and less bold approached Davrosh. She was gracious but firm in her refusals, which Sorrows found confusing. The heart wants what the heart wants, she had said. Sorrows wondered who Davrosh’s heart wanted.

The dance ended, the guests departed, and Reishi climbed the stairs to her room. She invited Sorrows to stand watch inside, as he’d expected. He agreed, to her delight. She smiled, her eyes sparkled, her words slurred. Beneath her Stone Mother’s Mask, her cheeks would be flushed from drink. She made an advance at Sorrows, then another. She was young and lovely with bright, violet eyes. But Sorrows claimed duty and suggested postponement. It was a weak denial, but it worked. And soon after, Reishi snored and Sorrows sat in the dark, talking to Davrosh through the door.

“You were popular tonight,” he said.

“How’s that?” Davrosh asked.

“Whenever I saw you, you were talking to a different dwarf.”

“You jealous?”

Sorrows smiled in the darkness. “Maybe. But I’m the one who gets to spend the night next to you. They should