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“Drowning,” said Sarkis confidently. “Definitely drowning.”
The Dervish nodded. “Oh, absolutely.” Sarkis touched his glass to the Dervish’s, in a grim salute to their agreement. “My first drowning put me off swimming for years.”
Halla’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? You’ve both been stabbed and beheaded how many times and you still say drowning?”
“Oh, beheading is easy!” said Piper. “It’s so fast, it’s over before you know it.” All of the swords indicated their assent.
“People say that so often,” said Edmund, reclining into the Dervish’s shoulder. “You mean it’s actually true?”
”It is if the axe is sharp,” said Angharad grimly. “If it’s not, well…”
Galen winced sympathetically. “That must have been awful.”
She shrugged. “Still not my worst. I think I have to go with burning at the stake.”
Sarkis cocked his head quizzically. “At the stake? For what?”
”Witchcraft.” She sipped her mug of ale. “I forget what it was for the first time, but the times after that it was for coming back from burning at the stake.” Edmund’s face twisted into an odd mix of queasiness and fascination.
“Burning is up there,” said Piper. “I got called in to the scene of an arson once. They thought someone had burned the place down to cover up a murder.” He shuddered. “Poor fellow was alive when the place caught.”
“Does your talent work on ashes?” said Halla, over the general noise of sympathetic disgust.
“Has to be a large chip of bone or something, but there’s usually enough,” said Piper matter-of factly.
She made a face of riveted horror. “Imagine the cremations!”
Galen cut in. “If they did it in the proper order, all he sees is the stuff before the cremation.”
“Oh,” said Halla sheepishly. “Right.”
“What about plague?” said Edmund. “Is it better than drowning, or worse?”
“I’ve never died of plague,” said the Dervish. “I doubt these two have either.”
“Because you’re so strong and healthy?” said Edmund sardonically.
The Dervish laughed. “You’re clever enough to work it out.” He planted a kiss on Edmund’s ear.
Halla didn’t give him a chance. “Because if you know you have the plague, you can sheathe yourself in time?”
“Yes, well done!”
“I bet you’ve seen your share of plague,” said Angharad in Piper’s direction.
“Unfortunately, yes,” he said. “But usually not firsthand, thank the Rat. Any illness where it’s clear enough what happened, I just go in for a normal autopsy wrapped up head to toe so I don’t touch them by mistake.”
“Look at you all,” said Galen with a laugh. “You’re so damned morbid! What about the best way to die?”
“That’s less morbid?” muttered Edmund under his breath.
Sarkis thought for a moment, then set his mug down gravely. “In bed with a beautiful woman,” he intoned.
Angharad burst out into a deep belly laugh. “I’ll drink to that!” she said. She and Sarkis lifted their drinks in unison to toast the suggestion.
“You’ve done that?!” said the Dervish.
“Well, no,” Sarkis admitted. “But I still bet it’s the best way.”
“Don’t look at me!” cried Halla. “I like him better alive!”
Piper mumbled something unintelligible into his glass.
“What was that?” said Edmund.
“I said, I’ve done that one,” said Piper. His pale cheeks began to turn an alarming shade of scarlet.
“Ha!” roared Sarkis as he slapped Piper on the back. The force of the gesture caught Piper off guard and he lurched into the table. “And is it the best way?”
“I’ve no idea,” said Piper. “I have no taste for women whatsoever.” Beside him, Galen was doubled over, wheezing with laughter.
“What did she look like?” said Halla, clearly fascinated.
Piper screwed up his face in concentration. “Pretty enough? If you… like that sort of thing? Long blonde hair, er… large breasts.” Galen’s laughter only intensified.
”Like me?” said Halla, giggling mischievously.
Piper made a face of anguish. “Actually, not unlike you at all,” he admitted. “I think she was the second wife of the deceased? Older and a little smaller, I think, at least… er, up top?”
This sent off a fresh peal of mirth from the entire group. “Smaller up top?!” cried Sarkis. “I’d better be careful, then! Tits like that can kill a man!”
“Oh no!” said Halla in mock alarm. “I don’t want to be charged with murder!”
“The man was very old and had a weak heart,” said Piper futilely. “It wasn’t her fault! Any strenuous activity might have done it.”
Edmund collapsed, giggling, with his only intelligible words being “strenuous activity.”
“No wonder you were widowed when you met him!” said the Dervish to Halla, winking. Sarkis elbowed him hard in the ribs, but Halla chuckled anyway.
“Did you meet her in real life, too?” said Angharad, struggling to get the words out between fits of hilarity.
“Yes,” said Piper. “And I was very professional and composed, thank you very much,” he added, cutting off a table’s worth of ready rejoinders. “She had no way of knowing I knew, and I wasn’t about to tell her.”
“Very good of you, Doctor,” said Galen, sweetly sardonic.
“I need another drink,” Piper muttered, in a tone of weary but not aggrieved resignation.
“I think we all do” said Galen. “It’s my round, I think?”
“I think you’re right,” said Angharad, “but damned if I’ll ever let the doctor buy his own drinks again.” She wiped a stray tear off her cheek, still catching her breath. “Oh, that’s one for the ages.”
“Watch out,” said Piper with a wry smile. “Next time there’s a rough week in the morgue, I’ll hold you to it.”
Angharad pressed a fist over her heart and bowed her head. “I’m a woman of my word.”