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“I couldn’t ask for a better right-hand man,” he answered. “Never underestimate him.”

She glanced at the massive proportions in front of them. “I’m not likely to, I can assure you.”

“Round here,” said Bram, turning a corner.

He stopped a few paces up, and looked at Cyrus. “Another one.”

Maelin found herself being pushed behind him, but quickly stopped that and stepped to one side, walking forward to stand next to him.

And looking at something that she knew, not that long ago, had been a living being.

All she could do was stare.

Chapter Twelve

It was every bit as bad as he’d feared.

But this time, the remains were less scattered, restricted to one corner of the street. It seemed as if the victim had been standing near a wall when he’d been attacked, and thus the bricks had served as some sort of a buffer.

But it was still a gruesome mess.

Silent, Cyrus scanned the area, seeking something—anything—that might give him a place to start.

“A male. Young. Or quite small, at least.”

Maelin’s calm voice stunned him. “What?” He’d almost forgotten she was there, and for a moment he couldn’t even understand what she was saying.

He looked up at her. Her skin was pale in the murky light, expressionless as she looked over the ghastly scene. “What did you say?”

“I said I believe this was originally a male, either a young one or a very short one.”

“How the devil...”

“The pelvic bones. Look at them. A woman’s pelvis is quite different to a man’s. This is definitely male. And the proportions are short.” She pointed to the skeletal remnants of what had been a backbone. “So a short man, or a younger man who hadn’t grown into his full height.”

Cyrus blinked, then cleared his throat. “How...how do you know this?”

She glanced up at him, her face completely expressionless. “At Tidehold Conservatory, trainees have the job of dealing with any ocean-related fatalities. I’ve assisted at several autopsies. Bodies are bodies, Cyrus. This one happens to be...” She swallowed roughly. “This one is a little more...disassembled than I’m used to.”

“Miss’s right.”

Bram’s words echoed over the body. “Found shoe. Man’s. Small.” He held it up, a dark black shoe with a silver heel.

Cyrus nodded. “The other one is in the far corner, and it certainly looks like it matches.”

“Only one place they wear shoes like that.”

“Yes. I know.” Cyrus nodded at Bram’s words. His mind raced over the implications.

“And that would be...where?” Maelin stared at Cyrus.

She was in it this far, there was no way he could avoid answering her question. “The Crimson Lantern.”

“All right.” She digested that. “So...should we notify someone from there? Is there a process for working crimes like these down here?”

“Firstly, let me explain something. This is Gloamtide, Maelin. Most crimes are shrugged off. There is little official monitoring of what goes on down here. What oversight there is comes from the different groups who have established their territories. But since they’re the ones most often committing those crimes...well, to put it bluntly? Nobody cares.”

She raised her chin. “Somebody cares, Cyrus. Somebody cared about this...person. He had a mother. Maybe a family. Someone has to be told, and someone has to know what happened to him.”