by P. A. Wilson
He brushed his hands together in satisfaction, grabbed the torch and made his way out of the warehouse. A glass of brandy would help calm him enough to sleep until morning when he would deal with the elf girl.
Chapter 24
The roof was easy, at least for an elf. Springheart’s gaze searched the hills behind Vitenkar’s house, but there was nothing to cause concern. After a quick scan, Willowvine reported that the barracks were full of auras, sleeping, or drunk. One aura was in Vitenkar’s room feeling satisfied. There was nothing in the warehouse below them. If Vitenkar hadn’t removed the stone, they were almost done.
He bent to check their entrance. The vent had a cover like a large hat, intended to discourage birds from nesting. It was attached with four screws that Springheart removed quickly. Lifting the cover, he looked into the room below.
“It’s too far to just drop,” he said to Willowvine.
She grunted a response and took the end of one rope and tied on a grappling hook. He scanned for observers in the hills as she knelt at the edge of the roof and tucked the claws of the hook under the eaves. It wouldn’t have held a human, or most other species, but it was a sufficient anchor for an elf.
“Okay, I’ll go first,” she said, returning to his side. “Should I light a lantern?”
Springheart looked around again. The stars and moon were still in the sky. “No, we’ll be fine for a few feet inside. No need to take the chance someone will notice the light. Go.”
He checked the line as she dropped. It ran smooth, and she was down in a moment. He saw her step aside before giving the rope a tug to let him know it was clear. He tossed the two sacks of equipment to her and slid down. Feeling hopeful that the whole job would go as well as the entrance, he nodded at her to run to where they suspected the stone was stored.
Suspected was probably not the right word, he hoped it was there. If it wasn’t, they were stuck with no clues to follow.
The crates all seemed to be in place. Willowvine was already prising the lid off the first one. Springheart lit a lantern and placed it away from any straw that might escape. He watched as she carefully pushed aside packing material to reveal wine glasses. A quick feel to the bottom of the crate and she confirmed they were the only contents.
“Damn,” she whispered. “I had a good feeling about this crate.”
Springheart hid his smile. She was still young enough to think feelings could help. The only help they could use was tracking magic and neither had that. “I’ll close this one, you open the next.”
It took longer than he expected, but soon they were replacing the lid on the last likely crate. They’d found glasses, wooden toys, flatware, mugs, and ceramic figures. No stones.
He hit the last nails in and placed the crate exactly where they had found it. While Willowvine repacked their tools, he studied the area. Having no other clues made him reluctant to give up on the location. From where he stood, it looked like crates filled the space, they had been very careful to replace the each one they moved so no one would suspect that anything has been touched.
“What now?” Willowvine interrupted his unproductive observation.
He turned to her. “If you were Vitenkar what would you have done after the guard left?”
“A scree would probably go beat someone up,” she responded before closing her eyes. “You mean as someone who had an object as powerful as the stone regardless of species.”
He didn’t bother answering her comment. This was something he needed her to think through without prompting.
After a few moments, she said, “I would move it. I tried to think of some other action, but nothing else makes sense.”
“We were only gone about an hour, so he couldn’t have moved it far.” Hope was creeping in to vanquish the defeat.
“It’s still here,” they said at the same time.
Willowvine scaled the rack and looked in from above. “There’s a space.” She returned to his side. “We’re looking for a rectangular crate about this big.” She held her hands apart about the length and width of a loaf of bread.
“I think we’re in the right row, otherwise he’s taken it closer to the door,” he said. Or he’s taken it to his quarters. That was a problem for another night. They only had time to search this row before the sun rose. Morning would tip off anyone who entered because there would be too much light. They would only be able to continue searching if Vitenkar was ignorant of the weakness in his security. He lit a second lantern and handed it to her. “You run along the top. I’ll take the middle and bottom. Wait for me under the vent.”
Willowvine scrambled to the top shelf and started moving along the racks, her eyes focused on the crates beneath her feet. Springheart, much slower, bent to check the density of the crates on each row. There was no place where one was tucked behind another. The inventory seemed normally arranged, each container close enough to the other to ensure maximum storage space, but far enough apart to be easily removed from its place.
He approached the end of the rack before looking up from the bottom row to see Willowvine sitting cross-legged on the floor, the snuffed lantern beside her, the rope hanging behind her, a shaft of moonlight gilding her hair. Her focus was on the object cradled in her legs — a small crate that could have held a loaf of bread.
Abandoning his search, he rushed to her, crowbar ready. Within moments they were looking at The Stone of Family.
* * *
Willowvine stared at the stone in her lap, disappointed that it was nothing special. There were words on the bottom. At least she thought it was the bottom. There were traces of dirt and a few stains on that side. Other than that, there was nothing else to separate it from any other paver on the streets outside.
Springheart passed her the sack they’d brought to transport it. “I’ll put the crate back together. You pack our things. Be fast. I don’t want to have anything happen now we have it.”
Within seconds, their packs were ready, Springheart handed her the now empty crate to replace. He slung their two sacks over his shoulder, handing her the one with the stone. She stood at the bottom of the rope waiting for him to clear the vent before starting her own climb. Halfway up, she heard the door open.
“Assemble the army on the hills. I will be there to lead the training in a few minutes,” Vitenkar said to someone before shutting the doors.
She froze. If he was headed directly for the stone, they would have only a few seconds to re-attach the vent hood. Without that, he would know that someone had been there. He’d have a party of warriors on them before they could make their escape.
It is not the time to panic.
She shimmied up the last few feet and drew the rope behind. Springheart hadn’t heard any of the action. Willowvine grabbed the vent hood from him and placed it over the hole hoping that it wouldn’t blow off before they could secure it.
With the hood in place, she felt safe enough to whisper the facts to Springheart. “I think we’ll be facing his warriors any second.”
“Go down and wait for me two streets away in the direction of home,” he ordered. “I’ll secure this and meet you.”
She wanted to say they should stay together, but knew that the stone was the most important thing. They needed to get to Devissial to find out where to deliver it.
The hills were still clear of scree, but false dawn was lighting the sky, taking away the advantage of dark. She bent to remove the grappling hook before climbing to the ground. She heard noise building inside the house as she melted into the shadows of the house and crept toward the street.
Waiting in a doorway for Springheart to join her, Willowvine felt time drag on. Shadows evaporated in the rising sun as she started counting to measure the delay. Reaching one thousand, she began to think of plans to rescue him. Relief replaced anxiety when he strode around the corner to join her.
“Keep walking,” he said as he passed.
When she was beside him, Springheart continued, “We need to hide it
before we go to Devissial for instructions. I do not want to chance anyone stopping us, and stealing or confiscating the stone.”
Willowvine agreed. She’d had plenty of time to think about what powerful leverage the stone was to the right people. “When we do finish the contact, can we please get something more than a handful of money?” They hadn’t had a choice with sealing the gate. The deed had been completed before anyone thought of payment. This time they could hold the stone, not for ransom, and not to destroy the elves obviously, but to get the exile lifted. That might be enough.
Springheart stopped, looked around, and then led her down a path to the right, not directly to their rooms, and not toward anything she knew as a hiding place.
“What would be enough, Willowvine?” His words were calm, no tone of argument for her to push against.
“Lifting the exile?” She hoped he wouldn’t have a logical answer, and wished that she’d thought more about the idea.
“It would be good to go home once in a while.” This time she heard an echo of her own desire for the elven lands.
“It will be easier to get them to accept orphans if we are living amongst them.” Maybe she could get the elven courier guild started too. It was almost the same as what Springheart had been doing before exile.
“How do you intend to get them to agree?”
Now she heard the trap in his voice. He wasn’t agreeing with her, he was getting ready to show her how stupid her idea was, and how easily he could demolish her logic. She had to admit that she usually lost the battle because she hadn’t thought it through. One day she’d find the time to do it and he’d be surprised. “We can hold the stone until they agree?” She hadn’t meant it to come out as a question.
“You would destroy the elves just to get revenge?” He led her around another corner, heading toward the docks.
The street was starting to fill with early risers. Servants heading to the market square to be there as soon as the farmers set up, clerks heading for businesses to open the doors before their employers arrived, fishermen carrying buckets of the night’s catch for sale.
Willowvine stepped closer to Springheart so they could keep talking. “No, of course not.”
“Then how are you going to use it as your bargaining chip?”
“They don’t need to know that I won’t.” It had sounded better in her mind than it did spoken.
Springheart drew her into the entrance of an alley. He placed his hands on her shoulders and made her look at him before he spoke, “They won’t bargain. If they believe you would destroy the elves, they will not allow you back onto the elven lands. This need you have to be accepted will cause you only pain.”
“It’s not fair,” she said. “We’re not a danger to them. Why won’t they tell us what is so wrong about being an orphan?”
He sighed and let go of her shoulders. “I don’t know. It is a question you can ask, but do not go forward with this plan. Simply ask. Do not bargain. If I could find a way to help you get over it I would, but you must deal with it.”
She swallowed the bitterness of the truth. “How did you get over it?”
He smiled. “What makes you think I am? Perhaps I’m simply better at schooling my emotional responses.”
Chapter 25
This will be over soon, Springheart thought. When it is, we can get back to normal.
Finding a hiding place was turning out to be more difficult than he expected. Taking the stone to the guild, or home was too predictable and despite precautions, it could be stolen back. The docks were promising because they had no affiliation there.
“So, where are we going?” Willowvine asked. “It only needs to be hidden for a couple of hours at most, right?”
“That’s the best case,” he said.
The docks were getting busier, and now that they were away from Vitenkar’s house and the fear of pursuit, he realized they needed food. The stone would be safe and they could explore options over caf and pastries. He led Willowvine to a cafe where the outside tables were mostly empty, and they would have privacy. When she was settled, he placed their order.
“We need somewhere that no one will connect to us,” he said when their food was delivered. “One we can get to at any time.”
She devoured a pastry before asking, “I guess it’s too risky to put it in a safe at the money lenders?”
“Yes, and it would be suspicious if we only left it for a few hours.” He looked around. The wharf stretched out from the end of the street. There were two other cafes and a general store. A new building was going up a few doors away. A convenient pile of rubble set in the street. It would be unfortunate to find their stone embedded in a new wall if they left it there.
“Do you think Vitenkar will search for anything involving an elf?” Willowvine asked. “Or two elves?”
Good question. “If he’s training his warriors, we have a couple of hours before he will even look for the crate. Unless he did that right away.”
“He would have been looking already, and we would have heard the ruckus,” she said with the confidence of youth.
“He thinks you are still locked up, and he won’t know about me, Maynard, or Devissial until he checks there.” Springheart didn’t want to get careless, but it didn’t seem risky to think they had three hours to get the directions for the next step and be on their way. “What are you thinking?”
She leaned forward. “Rent a room for a couple of days even if we only need it for a couple of hours. Find a loose board or something to hide the stone.” She took the last pastry. “If you do it, then he’ll be delayed even if he searches for a connection to me.”
Springheart thought through the consequences of her plan, aware that they were eating into the leeway they’d just discussed. No plan was going to be without danger, and he decided that renting a room was less risky than dithering around for a better one.
“I’ll be back.” He took the sack containing the stone from her, and crossed to the closest inn. It was named Sailor’s Haven and was the less seedy of the two choices.
A quick transaction bought him the keys to a room with a bed, small table, and wood-burning stove. Sailors always needed a hidey-hole, so chances were good that he’d find a hiding place.
Locking the door, he checked the floorboards — all firmly nailed in place. The stove was filled with ashes, which would cover the stone, but leave him dusted in the grey residue. A tentative tap on the wallboards revealed a loose slat under the small window. Popping it open, he tucked the stone inside and replaced the slat. Wishing he had a ward to add to the protections, Springheart left the room, pocketing the key.
Willowvine was waiting with their packs over her shoulder. “We need to go,” she said.
He followed her away from the docks, waiting for her to explain the urgency.
They turned a corner before she spoke again, “Maynard saw me. He doesn’t think I noticed. He went along the wharf and I don’t think he could have seen you leave Sailor’s Haven, but I lost track of him in the crowd.”
Chapter 26
Vitenkar stormed through his gate. The gate guard greeted him, and was rewarded with a snarled response.
They had released the girl.
It was even harder to believe they would not tell him the reason. Worse still, she had been free long enough to return to his home. The guard hadn’t even thought to inform him. The stone was in danger. His plans were in danger.
Continuing to his room, Vitenkar retrieved the warehouse key from his safe and charged down the stairs to the door. He stopped before unlocking it. If the stone were gone, he would need to move fast. Turning to march into the barracks, he roared, “Find Ballian and Dintral. Send them to wait outside my room.” A second thought pushed at his rage. “Gather in the courtyard. Await instructions.”
It took only a few seconds for the warriors to respond, a few seconds longer than it should have. If he were right about his prize, there would be generous punishments handed out later.
Random and brutal punishment would be the best way to keep them alert and trying to please.
Anger cooled a little, he strode to the warehouse door, slid the key in the lock, and opened the door. Inside, door relocked, he sniffed the air, was it different? Should he have checked earlier when he came to retrieve the delivery for that fool customer?
“The past cannot be changed,” he muttered as he raced to the hiding place. Pulling the front crate down, allowing it to drop without caring about the contents, Vitenkar stared at the small crate sitting where he’d left it.
Hope bloomed. No one would have taken the time to remove the stone from its crate and put it back together. He wanted to believe the warehouse was impenetrable. The law ensured that his inventory was safe. Stealing any of his goods would cost the thief months or years of their life. But the stone wasn’t merchandise. He couldn’t declare ownership.
Hand trembling with fear, he reached for the crate. Taking a deep breath, he lifted.
It was too light.
The stone was gone.
He smashed the crate against the wall with a roar, cutting his hand on the splinters created with the violence of his action.
Racing back to the door he struggled to unlock it with shaking hands. He stepped through to see warriors running to the courtyard. At least they now obeyed his orders without argument. He locked the door again because the merchandise still needed protecting even if the stone was gone. Then Vitenkar marched to his chamber to see if his lieutenants were as changed as the warriors.
Both stood to attention facing the door. Something in their steady gaze heartened Vitenkar, made him feel like he had a household army like the noble scree.