The Deer Prince's Murder: Book Two of 'Fantasy & Forensics' (Fantasy & Forensics 2) by Michael Angel Page A

extended, he brought one massive paw down in a powerful swipe at the shadowy figure.
    The griffin’s aim was true, but the blow passed through the figure without resistance. Suddenly overbalanced, Shaw smashed shoulder-first into the stony battlement. He tumbled to the rampart’s walkway, stunned.
    His target swirled in place for a moment, the man-figure almost slashed in half by the griffin’s blow. It reformed and leapt into the air. Galen’s voice boomed as he flung an arm up towards the figure.
    “ Liom a heiceáil stoirme! ”
    A bolt of blue lightning sizzled from the centaur wizard’s outstretched hand. It struck the shape as it began to accelerate into the sky. The thing emitted a crackle like a moth hitting an electrified grid. With a meaty pop , it disintegrated. Handfuls of dust and debris rained down into the courtyard nearby. A rancid, sulfurous smell drifted by on the breeze for a moment before it dissipated.
    A terrible cry erupted from Lady Behnaz’s lips. She released her grip on Vazura’s limp body. She stood and looked around with blank, wild eyes, as if utterly lost. Then she focused on me and pointed a quivering finger. Her voice shook.
    “My love…he died doing your bidding!”
    “He didn’t–” I said haltingly, but my voice rasped to a stop. I hadn’t done more than outline the task ahead to her paramour, but how the hell was I going to point that out at this moment?
    “Damn you, outworlder!” she wailed. “May all your plans come to ruin!”
    And with that, she ran off, sobbing. Her cries of sorrow faded and were replaced by the creak of leather armor straps and a man’s groans. The two royal guardsmen that had tackled the king helped him to his feet, apologizing profusely in continuous strings of ‘beg forgiveness’ and ‘pardon, Sire’. With an annoyed wave, Fitzwilliam shut them up.
    “Silence, both of you! Are you soldiers or fishmongers?” Fitzwilliam turned to address the new company of guardsmen who had run up from their posts, Liam at their side. “I am hale and hearty, but for the bruises given by my over-zealous protectors. I want four of you at that open gate, the rest sweeping the battlements!”
    As one, the red-and-black guards raised hands to chest in the Andeluvia version of the salute, then ran to do his bidding. Liam stepped forward and bowed graciously to King Fitzwilliam. With a triple beat of wings, Shaw alighted next to him and also bowed in turn. The king nodded to the griffin, and then turned his attention to Liam.
    “Most honored Fayleene.” Fitzwilliam’s voice hadn’t returned to the angry coldness of before, but his jaw set as if he were pulling reins on a restless mount. “It seems that your troubles have suddenly expanded to include my own demesnes.”
    “It does seem so, your Majesty,” Liam replied carefully. “It was not my intent.”
    “Your intent does not seem to have influenced your enemies,” Fitzwilliam said in an acid tone. He next directed that tone at me. “Lady Chrissie!”
    I looked up from where I still knelt by the captain’s body. “Yes, Sire?”
    “You heard my words down in the dungeon guardroom. The late Captain Vazura did not ride high in my favor, as you might guess. But he was a member of the royal court of Andeluvia. One for whom you swore an oath of protective custody not five minutes earlier!”
    My stomach clenched. It tied itself into a drum-tight knot as he went on.
    “I shall summon a man from the mortuarium . To bring Vazura where he can be laid to rest in honor. As for you, Lady Chrissie? Out of respect for your work to unmask my sire’s murderer, I had not pressed for an answer from you. An answer to whether you would become the court’s official forensics examiner.” He leveled a regal finger at me, fixed me with eyes that had gone icy gray. “But now I charge you: find me Vazura’s murderer, so that I may avenge his death as I see fit!”
    His words fell on my ears like claps of thunder.