“Darius said Talakai was a bonus.”
Matt lost his grin. “It was a strange thing to say,” he admitted.
“Maybe there is a clue in the room,” I suggested.
He shrugged. “Worth a shot.” He opened the door.
I followed Matt in. Light streamed through a window, which I envied. Matt’s side was obvious by the unmade bed and the clothes thrown across it. By contrast, the other side of the room was immaculate, the covers carefully folded over the mattress. A few books were neatly stacked on the dresser, and a large haversack lay against it.
“He told me he wasn’t unpacking until he knew he was staying...” His tone trailed off as though distracted, and I followed his gaze to what hung on the wall. “He left his bloody sword.”
Over the bed was a sword and a knife combination, mounted in opposite directions from each other.
“He doesn’t have much design sense,” I commented. “They’re centered over the bed, but too low.”
To my surprise, Matt plunked himself down on the bed, leaned back, and grabbed the hilt of each with ease.
Comprehension dawned. “He mounted them as weapons.”
Matt nodded. Then he pulled the blades free.
While the scabbards, and the wrappings on the hilts, were worn with age, the blades glimmered in the sunlight coming through the window.
“They’re—beautiful,” I said in surprise. “And look, they’ve got something etched along the blades.
The big Dire laid the knife down and examined the sword. “No idea what it says. And some writing looks more recent.”
“They look valuable,” I commented, suddenly bewildered. And oddly hopeful. “Why would he leave them behind?”
“Why would he leave any of it behind?” Matt asked, gesturing to the haversack.
I stared at him. “Sebastian said the Guild trains assassins?”
Matt grimaced. “They buy slaves as younglings and train them to be vicious killers. Then they hire them out as assassins.
I gaped at him. “Talakai was a slave?”
He shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. I’ve heard that some buy their way out of slavery and become freelancers. I can’t imagine that he’d get away from them if he was a slave. They’d come after him.” He laid the blades aside and lifted the haversack, unfastening the top. “What the bleedin’ hell is he carrying in here? Must have a whole mob of wombats...”
It bothered me to be messing with Talakai’s things. “What are you doing?”
He glanced at me. “Searching for clues. Isn’t that what we are supposed to be doin’?”
“I guess so. It just seems wrong, somehow.”
His lips twisted. “Yeah. The bludger was a pain in the ass, but going after the twins? I don’t know.”
“I don’t want him to have done it,” I confessed.
“Me neither,” he agreed, much to my surprise. Then he turned the haversack upside down and dumped it on the bed.
It was full of books.
Paperbacks and hardcovers. Had they come from the human realm? Probably not. Some had titles in a language I didn’t understand.
I picked one up and waved it in the air. It had Dragons pictured on the cover. “What language is this?”
Matt took it from me. “I have no idea. It’s different from this one, though. And this one. How many languages did the bludger read?”
