by P. A. Wilson
“The elven girl must be found,” he said with no preamble. If they were obedient, then they would not need to know why.
“Alive?” Dintral asked.
“Yes. Alive and able to speak.”
Ballian relaxed from his stance. Vitenkar braced himself for insolence. This lieutenant was smart and that could be an asset or a failing depending on how he used it.
The man spoke respectfully. “You want the warriors to search the city? Are you prepared for the repercussions of the violence they are going to perpetrate?”
“The girl must be found and fast.” A little explanation might help them to succeed. “She has taken something important.”
“It’s a small town, but there are many places to hide. Do you want the warriors to demolish buildings? Do you want to have to answer for their actions?”
His fury subsiding, Vitenkar started to realize that his emotional reaction was bound to cause more problems. He’d promoted these two for a reason, so perhaps listening was not a sign of weakness. “What do you suggest?”
Ballian relaxed more. The lack of respect conveyed would have brought him sever punishment in any other situation, but Vitenkar was so desperate to act that he allowed the liberty.
“I presume you don’t wish us to know what she stole.” He waited for Vitenkar’s nod. “You don’t want anyone knowing that something is missing?”
The girl could be boarding a ship for the mainland, or the resting place of the stone, if it left the island he wouldn’t be able to find it again. “Yes, stop asking questions and tell me what you suggest.”
“I needed some information to formulate my suggestion,” Ballian said then paused as though thinking. Just as Vitenkar was about to order him to speak, he continued. “We should be more discreet. A few of us, the more experienced, can search without tipping her off, or attracting attention. We can take her somewhere that you can question her without exposing this incident to anyone.”
Vitenkar smiled. The man was a genius at this. Keeping her away from his home gave him more options. Killing the child here would mean he’d have to dispose of the body. When he had his treasure back in his hands, he would kill her. “When you find her, gather her possessions and inform me of the location.”
Ballian looked at Dintral and then said, “A reward for this would help to motivate the searchers.”
Money. Everyone wanted money. When had the scree lost the value of honor, obedience, and victory? “Yes. See to it.” He tossed a small bag of coins to Ballian and dismissed them.
Chapter 27
Whatever they had been doing at the docks was finished, Maynard thought as he stepped out from behind a stack of crates that sat ready to be loaded on a ship. The girl couldn’t have seen him, or the two elves would have come looking as soon as Springheart exited that inn.
The guild had taken his report without question and dismissed him. It rankled that his efforts weren’t recognized as they should be. He smiled at the thought of the board members’ contrition when he saved the contract. The short meeting was a benefit this time, because he was free to rejoin Springheart and Willowvine. He would find out what Springheart was doing in Sailor’s Haven and he would not let them fob him off with a menial task again.
Maynard hurried so he could catch them far enough from the docks to avoid suspicion, but close enough not to lose them in the streets winding into town. A dash down a side alley allowed him to call out as they passed the entrance to a cross street. “Good morning. Are we ready to continue with the contract?”
The two elves came to an abrupt stop and then beckoned him out to the crowded street. Springheart answered the greeting with no enthusiasm. “Are you rested? Did you make the report?”
Caught off guard, Maynard answered truthfully. “No rest, as I’m sure you can understand. The guild did not say anything, I’m sure they will ask for a full debrief when the job is done. Where are we going now?” Given the direction they were moving, Maynard feared they were going to the client’s house. If that was true, then they had the stone.
“We need to do this alone, Maynard,” Springheart stated. “It comes too close to the secret than is prudent to share.”
Damn! They had succeeded.
“At least allow me to escort you, to wait until you are finished, and rejoin the contract. Surely you will need more assistance.” He imbued as much meek sincerity into the words as he could.
Springheart scowled and glanced at Willowvine. She shrugged and didn’t offer any suggestions. The fact that they didn’t want him around wasn’t new, but it was vital that he didn’t let them dismiss him.
Finally, the elf said, “Do not try to enter the client’s home. Wait for us on the street. If you are not there, we will not waste time looking for you.”
He nodded and thought better of answering. He had what he wanted. No need to talk his way out of it.
Chapter 28
Devissial’s home was exactly what Willowvine remembered it to be. Humans liked to display their wealth, like it was evidence of winning a game of some sort. Granted, this display was more tasteful than most, but still far too many rooms, and far too many objects with no use but decoration. They were left waiting in a different room than before. It was furnished with a few lushly colored sofas, a delicate table, and hundreds of books. What kind of man needed an entire room for a library? And she recalled the number of books in the first room. The man must be a scholar.
“Don’t talk about the arrest,” Springheart said. “We don’t need any delays. We want the instructions, and then we can be on our way.”
She rolled her eyes. He thought she’d embarrass him with her thanks to Devissial. Well she would thank him, but only after they had their instructions. “Can I speak at all?”
He chuckled. “You can do all the talking if you like. Just keep to business.”
Willowvine almost said that she would let him lead the meeting, but thought better of it. If they were going to start a new guild, she needed to learn how to talk to people like Devissial. “Okay.” Springheart wouldn’t let her get into trouble.
The client only kept them waiting for a short time. When he entered, he waved them to the sofas. “Refreshments?”
Willowvine smiled. “We do not wish to take any more of your time than necessary. We have the object and will leave you to your business as soon as you provide our instructions.” She wondered if that had been too brusque. Didn’t people of this stature generally want a little flattery?
Devissial gave a small bow. “I will need some proof first.”
Her worries set aside by his graciousness, Willowvine glanced at Springheart. He gave her no clue, so turning back to the client, Willowvine said, “We don’t have it with us.” Why was he suddenly being so suspicious? They didn’t have time to sit around and chat.
“I would not know if it was real by looking at it. I have three questions. If you have the object, you will be able to answer.”
That worried her. They hadn’t studied the stone. What if they missed something important, something that was an answer? There would be more delay going and checking the stone and returning. More risk too. Springheart would not appreciate that. Trying to sound as confident as the marshal did with clients, she said. “What are the questions?”
Devissial held up one finger. “Does the object belong in the earth, air, or water?”
That, at least, was easy. “The earth.”
He held up a second finger. “How old is the object?”
That gave her pause. The stone was as old as the world, but had it always been The Stone of Family? She closed her eyes, there was nothing in her memory to tell her how old the writing was, or if the writing was a spell, or a label. “As old as the world,” she said, deciding that was the only answer she had any sense of confidence in.
It seemed she’d guessed right because Devissial nodded. “There is a message on the back. What does it say?”
She’d seen the writing, but hadn’t read it. If th
ey hadn’t been interrupted maybe they would have looked. Frustrated, she was about to say they would have to come back, when she realized that Springheart might have read it. She turned to him and asked, “Did you have time?”
He nodded at her with a smile that told her she’d passed some test. Perhaps he meant her to overcome her need to do things by herself, and realize that asking for help wasn’t a failure.
He stepped forward. “The message reads, one for family, two for all elves, three for abundance. Please do not ask what it means.” Springheart stepped behind her to let Willowvine take control back.
Devissial laughed. “I would not expect you to understand an elven message in less than a year of study. Wait here.”
While Devissial was gone, Willowvine took the opportunity to question Springheart, “If you knew, why did you make me ask?”
Springheart drew her to the window at the back of the room. It faced a garden that was tightly controlled in flowerbeds of various colors that probably displayed a pattern from the upper floor balconies. “I was not sure that you didn’t know. And there is value in thinking, perhaps as much value as in doing or speaking. What did you learn?”
Her answer was forestalled by Devissial’s return. “This envelope contains your next instructions. Please confirm that the seal is unbroken.”
Willowvine checked the seal on the back of the envelope. The wax was deep purple, a color of importance, and warded so that it could not be resealed once broken. “It’s not been tampered with.”
“You must open it and read it here. When you have done that, you must burn it.” Devissial handed her a flint. “Place it in that box when you have lit it. When the fire is out, close the box and shake the contents so they cannot be reconstituted.”
‘That box’ was a sliver tobacco case sitting on the delicate table.
He bowed and left them alone again.
Springheart motioned for her to break the seal. In the envelope was a single sheet of paper with two lines of writing. Now that you have the object, you must place it in the center of the labyrinth on Crous Isle. Do so by the full moon’s rise and the elves will survive. Fail and your people will wither away. You will contact Leafcreek when you arrive to receive the details of the ceremony. He will act as witness to your actions.
Willowvine reread the message on the chance that there were other meanings, but it was direct, oddly so for an elven message. “It’s like they don’t think of us as elves,” she said, feeling cold and abandoned as if the exile were fresh, not five years old.
Springheart took the message and the envelope, placed them in the silver box, flicked the flint and watched the flames devour the message.
“They don’t. At least this burning will stop Slack from getting his hands on the message.”
Chapter 29
As they exited Devissial’s home, Springheart saw Maynard Slack waiting for them on the street outside. He suppressed a sigh. Once again, they needed to find the man a task that would keep him out of their way. Something that would take long enough for them to retrieve the stone, and book two passages to Crous Isle. Once they were aboard ship, the man would no longer be able to interfere, and the oath would be under less threat of being broken. Their lives would only be hostage to this contract for a few more days.
Willowvine stepped ahead of him, apparently still taking the lead. “We will need supplies for a long trek across island. Can you manage that?”
She reached toward Springheart, hand out for money. He placed the purse in her palm, trusting her to keep back enough funds for their passage and expenses. Willowvine spilled a few coins into her hand and passed the pouch back. “This should be enough. Bring everything to our room at the guild, we’ll meet you there before dinner.”
Maynard took the coins, automatically verifying the amount. “What will you be doing?”
His question was clumsy. Springheart was sure it was the reaction to Willowvine’s commanding attitude. Taking a little pity on the man, Springheart answered, “Nothing that we can disclose to you. The supplies are important. We do not have time to do both. I see the value of your help now. I apologize for the way we have treated you.”
Let that confuse him.
Maynard looked from the money to the two elves, clearly trying to form an argument, but not able to do so. “Very well, is it supplies for three?” he asked.
Let him think he was still joining them, Springheart thought. “Yes, but we will go on foot. The cost of animals is too high.”
Still clearly trying to ask a question he couldn’t formulate, Maynard finally nodded and walked away in the direction of the market.
When the man was out of sight, Springheart felt confident enough to urge Willowvine forward. “The stone first. Then we will find a way to leave the island.”
She hurried toward Sailor’s Haven, turning only to say, “I think we missed the tide. Will we be able to hide on the ship until sailing?”
“I don’t know, but we can ask.” Springheart slowed and reached for Willowvine to draw her close.
There were scree about. Traveling in pairs, they were entering a shop on the next street. “I think he’s noticed that we took the stone.”
They blended in with a family of farmers who were pushing empty barrows away from the market. Boisterous after a profitable morning, the group happily provided room for two elves to travel in their midst.
When they were ahead of the scree, he drew Willowvine to the side. “I don’t know how many of them are on the street. It’s not like scree to ask questions quietly, so I think only a few. We need to split up and meet at Sailor’s Haven.”
“Be careful,” she said. “They are probably looking for me, but we don’t know that. They might be just looking for elves. Don’t wait long for me, if I don’t meet you there, I’ll find you.” She didn’t wait for him to answer.
Springheart watched as she scrambled up the side of the building to run the roofs. He had time to do more than just hurry to the inn because she would have to find places to cross the radiating layout of the streets. They needed to know the extent of the search and the layout of the town would work in his favor. A quick glance over his shoulder showed the two scree were leaving the building. Using the alley, he sped to the next main street over. Watching for a few minutes, he saw no scree. So he slipped to the next thoroughfare — no scree.
To be sure, he needed to backtrack and check the four streets on the other side, but time was passing, and he needed to move on. Knowing that there were no bands of scree marching toward the docks would have to be enough. Springheart abandoned his search and made his way to the inn.
Willowvine walked through the door seconds after Springheart. They were alone, so if the scree asked about an elven girl, no one would know she was here. Leading the way to the room he unlocked the door. The room had not been disturbed.
“Can you disguise yourself?” He asked as he removed the stone from its hiding place, checking it carefully for any damage.
“How’s this?” Willowvine asked.
He turned around to see a dirty faced human boy. She’d used the ash in the stove to darken the front of her hair and tucked the rest in the hood of her cloak. The ash also grimed her face enough to blur out the delicate features of elven heritage into the rough ones of a human child.
“Good. Keep your eyes sharp, we need to get passage to Crous.”
“What about Maynard?”
He chuckled. “I think you frightened him. But he might be down here getting the supplies, we’ll watch for him too.”
* * *
He was right.
The elves had sent him on an imaginary errand. They were seeking a ship.
Maynard stepped from the doorway of the cafe across the street from the elves. They hadn’t seen him, so he felt safe drifting with the crowds that filled the wharf. If they thought he was cowed by the arrogance of the girl, he would use that. He would follow them, or better still take that object from them.
The g
irl was well camouflaged. He’d almost missed her. Only the fact that he knew they were a pair tipped him off that the boy was really an elven girl.
As he moved forward, he felt someone touch his arm. Spinning, ready to fend off an attack, he faced a pair of scree standing behind him. Scree always looked ready for a fight, bones braided into their hair, sword slung across their backs, it was disconcerting to see them outside the mayhem of battle or gaming.
“We are seeking someone,” the scree on the right said. “Have you seen an elf girl?”
So, he was not the only one looking for them.
“Yes,” he answered. “She was leaving town for the hills.”
The scree turned to his companion, then back to Maynard. “We need to be sure that it is the right elf. Can you describe her?”
As if a scree could tell one elf from another. Maynard closed his eyes as though he was trying to remember what he’d seen. “Long white blond hair, she’s short like an elf, maybe late teens.” Opening his eyes, he stared at the scree. He needed them to go after the trail he was setting. It would get too complicated if he had to race the scree to the stone. “There are only a few elves in town. How many young females do you think there are?”
Both scree bristled at his tone, but held their anger in check. Interesting that Vitenkar was able to keep them on a leash. “When did you see her go?”
He thought for a moment. It had to be enough time that allowed her to steal the stone, and be far enough on her journey to lead the search party out of his way. And he was in danger of losing the real trail with this delay. His desire to look toward where he’d last seen the elves was fighting with his need to distract the scree.
“Just after dawn,” he said. “You know elves. They love to spend time with nature. She’s probably just gone for a few days in the trees.”
The two scree were looking at each other now. Maynard willed them to believe him and go.