herainsceasedhalfanhourbeforesunseton Kochbarsday.ThefollowingRielahsdaymorning sawathinlayerofsteamandfoghazethevision
T
ofthoseinSchwarzfeldthatdissipatedbeforetenbells. Humiditywarmedtheair,signalingamovetowardthemonth of Kieliah when lighter, more breathable fabrics wouldbecome more common as the cottons and linens of earlysummer replaced the wools of late spring. Gwyn frowned asshegazedfromthewindowofherroomattheBlackBoar, rubbedherthrobbingtemples,andthenreturnedtobed.
Courage woke at eight bells and had a quick breakfast in thetavern’scommonroom.Whileeating,hereadthroughthecases that had troubled the Society for Afterlife and Arcane Researchand,inhisownnotebook,madenotesashesearchedfor patterns.Though engrossed in his initial analysis, henoticed Karina Richter order a bowl of plain porridge and asteinofmilkandthensitbesidehim.
“Goodmorning,ma’am.Didyousleepwell?”
“Islept. Thebedwascomfortable,yes. Youseemtobebusywith these case files.”
Courage stabbed a sausage and took a bite,nodding ashechewed.“Yes,ma’am.I’mjusttryingtoseeifIcanfind