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She gave it a cursory glance. “Nope.”

“Come on,” Kody scoffed. “He’s a member of your clan.”

Marani shrugged. “So? I don’t know him.”

“Let me help you. His name is Raiyen.”

She frowned, peering more closely at the sketch. “Ha! So it is. Didn’t recognize him. He was just a boy last time I saw him.”

“A boy?” Kody was taken aback. “How long has it been since you lived with the clan?”

“Going on fifteen years now.” She said it as though it were something to be proud of.

“And how long have you been in here?”

“Five years, or thereabouts. Got you hounds to thank for that, don’t I?”

Damn. So much for that line of questioning. Marani had been in prison the entire time Raiyen had been in the city. She couldn’t possibly help Kody track down his last known associates. I should have thought of that. It hadn’t even occurred to him to ask about her sentence. All right, time for plan B. “In that case, maybe you can help me with a little research I’m doing.”

“Research?” She scowled suspiciously.

“That’s right. About the Adali. About some of your . . . cultural practices.”

She let out a short, incredulous laugh. “Our ‘cultural practices,’ is it? And what in the Dark Flame is that supposed to mean? What are you bothering me for, hound? Who sent you?”

“I’m sure you remember Sergeant Izar?” She should—he was the officer who put her here.

“That traitor?” Marani spat emphatically on the ground. “To the below with him! No true Adal, that one—turning his back on his own kind!”

Kody had expected this reaction, but it still brought heat to his cheeks. “You’ll speak with respect! Izar is a fine officer.”

“Bah! Zaid clan—liars and bullies, the lot.” She looked meaningfully over her shoulder at her fellow prisoners, as though daring anyone to disagree.

“Maybe,” said Kody coolly, “but they’re a lot more respected than the Asis clan, aren’t they?”

A cold smile stole over Marani’s face, but she made no reply.

“I hear your clan has had a bad bit of luck.”

“What would you know of it? Not a hound in the Metropolitan Police knows a thing about the Adali. None but that mutt Izar.”

“Maybe so, but I’m a quick learner. You’d be surprised how much a determined hound can pick up. For example, I know that the Asis clan used to be known for its witchdoctors.”

Marani’s expression darkened. “I don’t belong with them anymore.” She backed away from the bars a little. “Whatever they did, it’s nothing to do with me.”

“I know that. They banished you, didn’t they? Izar didn’t tell me what for. Come to think of it, he didn’t tell me what you’re doing in here.”

“Murder,” someone called from the back of the cell. Marani shot a scathing look behind her, but with her poor eyesight she couldn’t tell who had made the remark. She settled for another volley of spittle.

To Kody, she said mockingly, “I’m innocent.”

He shrugged. “I don’t care.”

“Then what do you want?” she shrieked, lunging suddenly at the bars. “Why are you here, hound?”

Kody was momentarily taken aback by the outburst, his hand straying reflexively to the sword at his hip. Marani stared at him, wild-eyed, her shoulders heaving. The woman was half-mad, he realized. If he wanted to get anywhere with her, he’d have to be more direct. “I want to know what kind of khekra your kin are meddling with, and why.”

Marani backed away again, her fear unmistakable. A strange silence descended on the cell. The mention of khekra was like a pistol shot in the air, stunning everyone.

“What do you know about khekra?” Marani whispered.

“I know it exists. I know it uses human blood and suchlike to make medicine.”

Marani barked out a tense laugh. “That ought to be the least of your worries, hound.”

Finally, we’re getting somewhere! Kody was careful to keep his voice neutral. “What else should I be worried about?”

“Marani,” one of the women called warningly, “this is Adali business.”

Marani ignored her. “Whatever bits they take for medicine, it’s only a small amount. A few drops of blood, or a bit of hair. No one gets hurt, not for medicine. But khekra can do other things besides healing.”

“Like curses.” Kody tried to keep the disbelief out of his voice, but he obviously failed, because Marani sneered at him.

“Don’t believe in curses, hound? Why get me to tell you about khekra, then?”

“Because it doesn’t matter what I believe. Whoever is kidnapping children obviously believes, and that’s what counts.”

“Kidnapping, is it?” Marani grunted thoughtfully. “And what makes you think it’s got something to do with khekra?”

Kody left that alone. “Are there curses that involve using children?”

She made a rude hand gesture. “Bah! How should I know? I’m no witchdoctor.”

“What about other kinds of magic?” Kody asked, trying a different angle. “Are there spells that can do the opposite of curses?”

Marani’s eyes narrowed shrewdly. “Looking for a favor, are we? Make you better looking, maybe, or smarter?” She cackled, pleased with herself.

Kody didn’t take the bait. “Let’s say I was looking for a favor. Could a witchdoctor help me?”

“If you made it worthwhile, maybe. But you wouldn’t get no favors from the Asis, not after everything they’ve been through on account of khekra. Not unless you had something real, real good to trade for it.”

“Money is always popular,” Kody said dryly.

Marani snorted. “For little favors, sure. Kidnapping is a pretty big favor. Even if you found someone willing, he’d be a fool to risk it. Get himself banished, or hanged, or worse. Like to bring down the whole clan while he was at it.”

She had a point. If an Adal were caught kidnapping Braelish children, Adali all over the Five Villages would pay the price. Lynch mobs would sprout up from Kennian to Brackensvale, and the Asis clan would be their first target. Their camp would be burned to the ground, the people driven off. And the Asis had nowhere else to go. If there was one thing Kody admired about the Adali, it was their loyalty to their kin; even if Raiyen wasn’t the benevolent soul his sister claimed, he wasn’t likely to risk those consequences lightly. Besides, the sister and her friend had said that Raiyen got himself exiled trying to help his people. He must have known that the elders were onto him, turning a blind eye to his medicine, but he drew their wrath anyway, trying to do something about the drought. For him to turn around and knowingly put his clan in danger . . . it didn’t fit, not without a major incentive.

There has to be something big on the table, Kody thought, something worth the risk. “What would it take to get you to do something like that, Marani?”

She gave a sneering smile. “Oh, that’s easy, hound. Get me out of here, and I’m all yours.”

Kody didn’t get anything useful out of her after that, and none of the other prisoners would talk to him, not about khekra. The word itself was like a spell, a hex of silence. The interview had been fruitful, though. Kody felt sure he was narrowing in on a possible motive, and Lenoir always said that understanding the motive was the most important part of solving a crime. “Do not let yourself be distracted by the details,” Lenoir had told him, time and again. “They are important, but you must understand how they fit together, how they tell a story. Understand why the crime has been committed, and the rest is simply a question of how.”