Page 9 of Any More Questions for the Corpse?

“Oh, stop pulling their legs, Taran,” Elaine said, smiling at the old fool.

“I swear, no one believes me. This guy knows …” Taran pointed to Mal as he spoke. The room laughed louder. AHHHH, screamed Mal inside his own head. He shrugged and laughed with the rest of them. Trying hard not to sweat too much.

“It must be time for your afternoon nap. Come on. Is it okay if we leave this here?” Elaine said, nudging Taran. Des nodded and smiled.

“I can do it myself. I can do it myself,” Taran said, and with a pop he disappeared from the chair. Taran could be heard from the other room, mumbling and grumbling. Mal was just happy that no one was staring at him and talking about necromancers. Elaine followed but using her legs, leaving them alone in the office.

“So what did you think?” Des said.

“I’m certainly getting weird vibes from her,” Hala said. Well, duh, Mal thought; even he could tell that. “A bit overprotective—more than just his nurse, but not in a weird way. It’s more like awe and gratitude; maybe he saved her life at some point. I don’t know. Secret-wise, the old guy didn’t seem to be hiding anything, but she was definitely hiding something. She wants us to leave as soon as possible.” Oh, Mal thought. He hadn’t picked up on that at all.

“Mal, any insights?” Des said, sarcastically.

Mal had been searching for something “deathy” since they arrived. He got neither a whiff nor trace of any death in or around the place. A couple of the objects on the mantle had given him pause. He thought they were probably conquests from wizards Taran had “defeated.”

“Nothing,” he said reluctantly.

“Incredible. I see why Walters needs you around.” Des rolled her eyes, but her smile softened the blow. They got up and went back out into the greeting hall. Elaine met them there after a few minutes. Des thanked her for her hospitality and the group got ready to leave. Mal almost missed it, but watching more carefully now, he noticed how much more relaxed Elaine seemed. They went up the stairs, but before they got to the door, Des turned around. Mal watched Elaine’s posture change ever so slightly and Hala nudged him, as if to say, Told ya.

“I know you’re hiding something,” Des said in a harsh, strict tone. “If you’re not being one hundred percent straight with me, I’ll be back with more than just students, and we’ll search every inch of this property.”

Elaine went from flustered, to angry, to crying in three seconds.

“Taran couldn’t have done it,” she said, tears rolling down her cheeks. Des kept quiet, as if inviting the information out into the open.

“He’s sick. His family doesn’t want it getting out. It might damage their reputation. The great heir of Merlin and all. He’s only really lucid in the mornings, but it’s getting worse and worse.” More tears rolled down her face, and Des’s posture softened.

“I’m so sorry,” Des said, her tone easing off a bit. “This investigation is confidential, so we won’t be telling anyone.” Hala and Mal nodded, and Elaine calmed herself.

After a handful of condolences from the group, they said their goodbyes and began the long walk back down the grassy peak.

“How did you know she was hiding something?” Mal said to Hala, in curious awe. Des perked up at the question.

“It’s weird, it’s like I can see everything that’s in a person,” Hala said, to both of their confusion. “Okay, okay, say you have a glass and it’s filled with orange liquid. You would assume it’s orange juice, right? Well, it’s the same with people. You look at someone and see they’re happy, so you assume they’re happy. They look orange, so there must be orange juice in their glass. But what if there was a tiny bit of oil, or salt, or vinegar mixed in with the juice? You wouldn’t be able to tell until you drank it. ‘Drinking it’ in this case being interacting with the person. I can tell exactly what’s in the glass, I can see all the little emotions, and I can separate them out. I know how the liquid will taste before drinking it.”

“That makes a strange amount of sense,” Mal said, wrapping his brain around the metaphor.

“It’s also easier for me to spot someone trying to pass off food dye as the real deal. Take you for example, Mal.” Mal nodded, not liking what was about to happen. “You’re mostly calm, and a medium happy right now. We’ll call you orange juice. Most people could probably tell that.” Des nodded in agreement. “But I can see more. You’re feeling a few standard boy things, which I won’t embarrass you by explaining.”

Please make it stop, Mal thought.

“I’ll stop in a minute, I’m sorry,” Hala said, causing a small laugh from both her and Des. “There’s also an anxiety, a constant, low-level anxiety. Which isn’t unusual, lots of people are anxious for different reasons, but theirs goes up and down. Yours is level, and it’s made of different stuff; it’s made of shame and life-altering dread. Not guilt, so I can tell you haven’t done something wrong, which means it must be something out of your control. Something you don’t like and that you constantly dread coming to light. And it’s deep, it’s been there a long time. So you put all that together and you get …”

“Big secret,” Des said solemnly. She watched Mal close his eyes and take a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” Hala said, putting a hand on Mal’s shoulder. “I just get carried away.”

“It’s okay,” Mal said. “It’s not like that’s a new revelation.”

“Wow,” Des said. “That’s terrifying.”

“And that’s just the start of it. I can get in there and mess with people’s emotions too if I want. I try not to, though. It’s a lot of fun to use, which makes it so much worse. I have to stop myself most of the time. It feels unfair otherwise.”

“I’d say do me next,” Des said, “but please, please don’t.”

“You sure?” Hala said. “It would probably cheer Mal up.”

“I will arrest you,” Des said, with a half-serious grin. Mal looked back and thought he caught a glimpse of her blushing. “Moving on. What do you guys think? Is that old man a cold-blooded killer?”