Read Murder at the Kinnen Hotel for Free Online

friend.
    “I understand,” Adamat finally said.
    White gave a curt nod and pounded on the roof. The cab began to move.
    “Where are we going?” Adamat asked.
    “Wherever you say,” White said. “You’re the lead on this investigation. How are we going to find this powder mage?”
    Adamat considered this for a moment. As much as White wanted to avoid touching upon Melany’s murder, Adamat’s whole theory started and ended there. He would have to talk to Ricard sooner rather than later. He would rather do it without White present.
    “Do you have any leads of your own?” Adamat asked. “I, um, assume that you have a rather substantial network of informants at your fingertips. Has there been any sign of a powder mage on the loose in the city?”
    “Powder mages are kept under the strictest watch by the cabal, but they are kept under even stricter constraints by General Tamas. He’s a powder mage himself and, though he’s the king’s favorite, he doesn’t want to attract the cabal’s attention by allowing any of his brothers in sorcery to have the run of the city. I suspect that if he or his wife were currently in the country that they would do our job for us. He is almost as efficiently brutal as we are.”
    The last words were said begrudgingly, and White rolled her tongue around her mouth as if contemplating a bad taste.
    “So that’s a no?” Adamat asked.
    White made a frustrated noise in the back of her throat. “There was a rumor a few months back that a powder mage was working for one of the gangs in the docklands. Our people could find nothing to substantiate it. That’s the best I have for you.”
    “We’ll start there, then,” Adamat said. He pulled his mind away from his concerns—the myriad of dangers surrounding this investigation, as well as the uncertainty of his career once White had returned to her masters—and focused entirely on the task at hand. He stuck his head out the window. “Driver, take us to Willam’s Tavern on Seaside.”
    “Are you familiar with the Black Street Barbers?” Adamat asked his companion as they neared their destination.
    The docklands of Adopest were a sprawling wasteland of dilapidated buildings, putrid streets, and roving gangs along the western crescent of the teardrop of the Adsea. While vast swaths of Adopest had been rebuilt over the Iron King’s long reign, the docklands remained an ancient armpit in desperate need of modernization. Decent people avoided this section of the city like they might a visit from the dentist.
    White said, “I’ve heard the name before. One of the petty gangs that roams this part of the city, correct?”
    “Yes,” Adamat said. Petty seemed like an easy word to toss around when you worked for the Adran Royal Cabal. To normal people, the Black Street Barbers were terrifying. “My contact at Willam’s Tavern is a young initiate. Nervous lad, flicks a blade back and forth.”
    “Are you warning me to not be frightened?” There was a tinge of amusement in White’s voice, as if to say, That’s adorable.
    “No,” Adamat said, “I’m warning you so that you don’t kill him just because he has a nervous twitch.”
    White looked down her nose at her long fingernails. “You should know, Adamat, that my nervous twitch is not immediately murdering someone when they flick open a blade.” She lifted her chin, glancing at him sidelong. If he didn’t know any better, he’d have thought he hurt her feelings.
    The cab let them out at a tavern a stone’s throw from the waterfront. It was one of those large, sprawling establishments frequented by all manner of the type of lowlifes constantly coming to the city, finding work at the docks, and then moving on.
    Adamat let his eyes adjust to the darkness inside before he threaded his way through the tables. At eleven o’clock on a weekday morning most of the clientele consisted of dockmen who’d not gotten the call for a desperately needed job and were waiting until tomorrow