I shrug.

"Excess of caution, I guess. I heard Jeamo's studio went up in flames last night. Figured Jet was being careful to avoid any unnecessary human entanglements. No need for the watch to discover a dead patrician in Elftown. It would be the red tide for sure. So I thought it might be a good idea to find this painting, if it really exists, and destroy it, just in case someone might use it to put two and two together and come up with Jet. It sounds like the kind of thing the humans probably better not see anyway. Elven dabbling in magic is something they don't need to know about."

She looks at me appraisingly. 

"You're not just a thug, are you? You can think, too."

I laugh.

"A little bit. Killing is easier than thinking, though." I glance toward the doors to other rooms. "Mind if I look in the bedchamber? That's where he kept the painting, I hear." She nods, and we check the other doors in the room together. One leads to a small kitchen, one to the guards' bedroom. The third leads to Calmorien's bedroom.

The painting is on the wall above his bed, small and square, dark rust-colored lines snaking across dirty cloth stretched over a flat wooden board to create some kind of symbol. It looks familiar. I know that I've seen it somewhere before. But where?

Uneasiness creeps over me like the Elftown mists. I glance around, but nothing seems to be amiss. I turn my attention back to the painting. On an almost instinctive level, it feels dangerous. Like stored magic. That's it! It's not a symbol, but a rune. Slime, but Calmorien was bold. Kept evidence of his sorcery right here in his chambers. 

"You were right to be concerned about this," Lynae whispers beside me. She moves forward and lightly touches the side of the painting, averting her face. I wince, half expecting the rune to blow up, but it doesn't. She gingerly removes the painting from the wall, being careful to touch it only on the sides. She holds it out to me and nods perfunctorily for me to take it. 

I look at her incredulously. If she were anyone else, I would tell her to go spit at the watch. I realize with a sense of discomfort exactly how much control she now has over my life. I don't like it. If I disobey her, she can wreck my relationship with Jet, getting me dismissed or more likely killed. I may have to kill her first, just as a matter of self-preservation.

But not right now. Dangerous or not, I want a closer look at the blood rune. Maybe I can figure out why it looks so familiar. I take the painting from Lynae, holding it carefully on the sides like she did.

"Good boy," she says. "You need to get this to Bolin immediately. Tell him Jet wants it destroyed and to toss it in the furnace." She leans in close, and I shift the blood rune to the side to avoid contact. "I'll tell Jet what a help you've been," she whispers, and I feel her lips on my cheek. Before I can react, she gives me a little shove toward the door. "Now go, quickly! This painting must be destroyed as soon as possible."

I go. I move slowly, cautiously holding the blood rune. She slips past me, stepping over the unconscious guard to open the apartment door. As soon as I am in the hallway, she shuts the door behind me and I hear the click of the lock. Apparently she has further business in Calmorien's place.

My uneasiness returns, and not just from the rune that I carry. I am not sure what the hell just happened, but there is no way any good will come of my boss's girlfriend kissing me. She's got better fish to net than a hired blade with a bad attitude. Which means that she's either toying with me or grooming me for some purpose. 

Damn it. It's so characteristically Elftown. You think you're settled into a reasonable pattern of life, things are going well and predictably, and then this goddess-forsaken slum backs you against the wall, filthy hand on your throat, and shoves a jagged blade in your gut.

I hear a thunk in the apartment behind me. What is she doing in there? I shove the question out of my mind. This day is getting even stranger and more dangerous, and I have way too much to think about already.

As I move down the hall, I hear the sound of footsteps on the stairs. The heavy clomping of the booted feet of human guards.

That's just great.