A Study in Silver: The Wolflock Cases, #5

A Study in Silver © Rhiannon D. Elton 2020

The Wolflock Cases: Book 5

First edition

ISBN: 978-0-6487636-4-2 (paperback)

All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means— electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by Australian Commonwealth copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, at Attention: Permissions Coordinator, at the address below.

info@rhiannoneltonauthor.com

Cover compiled by Rhiannon D. Elton

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cataloguing-in-Publication information for this title is listed with the National Library of Australia.

Published in Australia by Rhiannon D. Elton and Pelaia Adventures

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Declaration of Intention

MERRY MEET,

The purpose of the books the author writes is to give representation to as many peoples, creatures, and landscapes as they can. Although written from the perspective of a Caucasian teenage boy, the author hopes to offer a light into the harmony of different cultures and creeds of people. The author’s aim is to promote harmony, understanding and compassion in all areas, while also inspiring readers to stand up against injustice and be critical thinkers in life.

While the author does their best to research, interview and highlight the best parts of people, they are only human and can make mistakes. The author asks you gently educate them by sending them an email in order to discuss anything that may have caused harm to a group of people unintentionally.

The author believes that the cure for ignorance is education, but please approach the topic cordially in order to avoid any knee-jerk cognitive dissonance.

Finally, the viewpoints displayed in the books comes from a particular character and is not necessarily that of the authors. The author seeks to display flaws, growth and human nature on many levels, and hopes that you will analyse the character of the protagonist without adopting any negative behaviour from them.

Merry part, and merry meet again.

Dedicated to Nikki

SOME DAYS WHEN IT’S hard to write, I keep going because I know I have to finish the story so you can read the ending.

CHAPTER 1

The Lady and the Nail

WOLFLOCK FELT LIKE he had been splashed with a bucket of ice. He couldn't comprehend what he was looking at. The twisted bundle of clothing and limbs at the bottom of the hull stairs looked more like a mangled sculpture than a real person.

His mind squirmed like worms through mud, trying to grasp what was before him.

Parihaan.

She was at the bottom of the stairs. She arched back too far. One leg twisted out to the side and the other was bent under her. One of her arms looked like it had a second elbow from the way her shoulder had contorted. It was her face that chilled him, though. Her head was thrown backwards and a sliver of her yellow eyes stared back up at him. 

He couldn't look.

His throat clenched and his stomach jolted. What was he meant to do?

He crushed his eyes closed and took a breath.

Help, he croaked, grasping at the wall for support.

Then he heard her.

Parihaan groaned.

His eyes snapped open, unable to move off her. HELP!  He shouted. Did she really just move? Was she alive? SOMEBODY COME! QUICKLY! HELP!

His body started shaking from scene before him. He wanted to run but his legs felt like jelly. Every time he moved he felt the blood in his veins crack like ice.

She groaned again and one of her warped arms dropped to her side. The movement startled him so much that he fell backwards onto the stairs leading up from the landing.

In a flash, the scene was seared into his memory. The railing along the landing and the stairs, the scratches on the floor. The glittering glass shards. The lack of blood. The patterns in the dust on the ground.

The dust. There were shoeprints in the dust. Two sets fresher than his own. One was floral print, one was worn and flat. He looked by his hand on the bottom stair and saw a third, angled in a diamond shape that never made it to the landing. Three people had been down here. But when? Why?

As his eyes followed the pattern of the shoes, he saw the first step down to where Parihaan laid. A huge splinter stuck out from the top step.

PLEASE! SOMEBODY! HELP! he cried, trembling. He was about to be sick.

Wha's the matter, lad? Grogen's heavy footsteps came up to the top of the stairs and creaked on the planks as he came down to the quivering boy. Did ya fall? Is anything broken?

Wolflock shook his head and pointed down the stairs. He gripped Grogen's shirtsleeve. The coarse warm fabric brought him an untold amount of comfort.

By Houl... Grogen breathed.

She-She's alive.

I don't think she is lad.

I saw her move! I heard her! Wolflock begged, clutching Grogen’s shirt.

Let me get another set of hands and we'll 'ave a look, aye? Stay right here.

Grogen tore himself away, but Wolflock grabbed his trouser leg. D-don't leave me!

The giant crewman looked back, his big brown eyes filled with concern, yet his mouth twisted into an uncertain grimace.

Lockie, you listen 'ere, lad. You need to stay 'ere for a moment. I'll be back before you know it. Hold your arms tight and squeeze ya eyes shut. I'll be back before you take ten breaths.

With a reluctant nod, Wolflock gripped his own forearms and closed his eyes. The scene formed behind his eyelids with absolute clarity. If he just kept his mind on the details of the landing... maybe... just maybe he wouldn't see Parihaan's broken form.

There were the distinct footprints, he thought to himself as he focused on every minute details. The pathway where the thoroughfare of people trod daily and the thicker dust along the edges. Tiny grains of dirt and sand were flung from the two most predominant footprints. Fabric strands caught in the wood on the wall. They were from Parihaan’s hijab. The railing had smudges on it. A glint of silver streaked the rail as well. Different to the grey wood. It was paint. Wet paint. But just a smear. Then there was the splinter.

No... Not a splinter.

It was a nail. The broad flat top was unmistakable, even though the darkness tried to hide it. It shouldn't be there. It served no purpose there. Why would there be a nail at the top of the stairs? It was a hazard. What was it doing there?

Wolflock's piercing blue eyes opened as he stared at the scene he’d pieced back together in his mind. The jutting piece of metal wasn't a ship nail. It was far too small. Was it a finishing nail from a painting?

He had to know. But it was so close to where he’d see Parihaan. He couldn't bear looking at her. What if he moved low to the ground or tried to grab it without looking? The crew would stomp all over it. What if they stepped on it? What if it was important?

Hearing Grogen and another crew member coming back down, Wolflock acted without thinking. He slunk along the floor and snatched at the nail, keeping himself as far away from the top stair as he could. His hands shook as he fumbled to cram it into his pocket before Grogen picked him up and bear hugged him to his barrel of a chest.

It's alright, lad. It's alright. Shh. We're 'ere now. Don' you worry.

Hognut and Goden walked past and spoke in low tones. It was all a bit hazy for a few moments. Wolflock resisted his mind trying to go down those stairs. Grogen's broad arms equally suffocated and comforted him, making it easier to keep a grip on his reactions.

What's going on down there? Captain Blutro shouted from the top of the stairs.

There's been an accident, sir. Grogen called over Wolflock’s black hair.

Is that Mr Felen? Are you injured?

Not 'im, Captain. It's Parihaan.

She's alive! Goden called out as Hognut analysed her. Wolflock caught a glimpse of her misshapen form, but turned his face away as he felt his stomach lurch.

I'll get the doctor, Captain Blutro affirmed.

Can ya walk, lad? Grogen gave Wolflock’s arms a squeeze.

He nodded and the hulking crewman led him upstairs and sat him down in his cabin. Other passengers started to come out to gawk.

I'll fetch ya some tea in a moment, but ya should have sommit a bit stronger first. I’ll see if Nan Ji has medicine.

He could only nod. His whole body felt numb as he started to shiver. As he looked around his own neat and tidy cabin all he could see was the dust, the footprints, the handprints, the smear of silver, the jutting nail, and...

Wolflock swallowed. He had to get it out of his head. He couldn't think until it was out. Without another thought he pulled out his desk chair, startling himself with the scraping noise it made on the wooden floor. Was it always that loud?

Grabbing his notebook, ink and quill, he began jotting down every detail. Halfway through his first sentence he remembered the note in his pocket.

P.

When you get to Krieger Zwerg, make sure the

goods get on board. Someone will meet you in Creast for

pick up. The boss will be furious if you drink it all again

like last time.

Don’t mess up.

A.

It was messy from his shaking hand, but he got it down, ignoring the people running to the hull and on high alert to those leaving it. After a page of notes and the beginning of his shoe print sketching, a knock at his door made him cut a line of ink across three words.

Lockie? Mothy spoke softly, I have some tea for you.

Wolflock left the book open for the ink to dry and turned his chair to see his friend.

Thank you. His voice came out much stronger than he felt.

Mothy's grey eyes seemed to scan him. What was he looking for?

The blond boy set the mug down on the desk and pulled out the second blanket from the overhead storage, throwing it around Wolflock's shoulders. Instantly, he felt relieved. He couldn't believe how cold he'd gotten. Was there a draft?

How are you feeling?

Wolflock didn't have the words. He opened his mouth, shook his head, and closed it. His gut writhed at his foolishness. Before either of them could speak, Captain Blutro appeared at the door.

Ah. Good. You're being looked after. They're about to bring her up, Mr Felen. I suggest you stay here. I know it's difficult, but I'm going to have to come and speak to you in a moment. We must know what happened while it is fresh in your mind. Remain in your cabin and I will be back shortly. Look after him, Mothy. 

As Captain Blutro spoke Wolflock picked up his tea, refusing to make eye contact with the stern man.

Aye, aye, Captain.

Wolflock watched the amber liquid in the mug ripple from his trembling hands. He couldn't sit still. He had to get the shakes out. Without tasting the tea, he put it down and stood up, moving to the door.

Hey! Wait! Mothy protested.

Wolflock stopped at the entrance and wouldn't budge as his friend tried to tug him back into the room. He had to see. He didn't know what he had to see, but he had to see. Hognut and Goden