The Elven Stones_Family

by P. A. Wilson

  “You don’t need to wait much longer,” he whispered. “It will be dark enough soon.”

  As his words died, Springheart jerked away from the opening and held up his hand to warn her to be quiet. Willowvine strained to hear what he’d noticed.

  There were two people talking outside the garden. She peeped through the window and held still.

  Scree.

  They were splitting the contents of a pouch. Even when their palms were full, the pouch still clinked as the closest one returned it to his belt.

  “You start at the far end,” the lead scree said. “Don’t over pay, but make sure no one takes passage for the elf, or that human if he hasn’t already left.”

  “If I run out of money?”

  “Don’t pocket any until we’re done. I’ll make sure we get our share before we hand it back to the boss.”

  The second scree shoved the coins into his own pouch. “He won’t guess?”

  The first scree laughed. “He may be a good merchant, but he doesn’t know anything about warfare. If he thought we could do this cheap, he wouldn’t have given us this much.”

  They moved away from the building and continued toward the docks.

  Willowvine pulled away from the opening, and groaned. “Now what?”

  Springheart was gathering their belongings. “We need to beat them.” He followed her to the back window where they leapt to the grass and raced down the alley. Willowvine knew they would beat the scree to their destination, but would it be enough?

  At the wharf, she stood behind a bollard scanning the street for the Scree. They were in no hurry. Heads together, they seemed to be talking. Probably about how they will spend what they skimmed from the bribe money. She glanced one more time at the approaching scree and then raced to pass Springheart who was waiting behind another bollard farther down the wharf. There were ten well-placed hiding places between them and the first ship. They needed to be aboard before the scree arrived.

  Playing a game of bollard leapfrog wasn’t her idea of fun, but at least they had cover. By the time they arrived at the Land Ho, the first scree had boarded the ship closest to town, and the second one was strolling along the dock toward them, his gaze fixed on the end of the wharf. If they ran up the gangway, he could not possibly miss them.

  Springheart tapped her shoulder and leaned in to whisper, “We’ll wait until he’s on board and then try to get passage on the ship behind. Not everyone likes dealing with scree. We might get lucky.”

  She nodded more in habit than agreement. Even if they could get passage on one of the later boats, they would be too far behind Maynard. The best choice was Land Ho, and she still had time to do the deal. “Give me the money,” she said, holding out her hand.

  He hesitated and she knew he was reluctant to let her go alone, but he gave her the pouch of coins they’d set aside for passage. It was twice what the captain would generally want, giving her a nice margin for a sweetener. “Can you distract him?”

  Springheart nodded and removed one of the small knives he’d started using when they’d lived with Madeline. “You don’t need to kill him,” she whispered. A dead body would bring too much attention.

  “I won’t even hurt him. Ready?”

  She slipped to the edge of the gangway, crouching at the sliver of the shadow left by the street lanterns. Springheart stood, flipped the knife to land with a thunk in the side of the ship that the scree was passing. At the sound, the scree whirled, looking for the threat. His attention distracted, Willowvine raced up the gangway. Springheart followed her closely.

  On board, they crouched before the dozing sailor who was supposed to be on guard. Shouts from the wharf startled him awake. He looked down at them and said, “Oh, it’s you. Captain is back. Told him you were looking for passage. Get down there and talk to him.”

  It couldn’t be that easy, Willowvine thought. The scree had stopped shouting, so she figured he’d be on board in moments.

  They met the captain, a younger man than she expected. Blond hair and beard, with a scar across his right cheek that pulled his smile into a grimace. She handed Springheart the money pouch. He was a better negotiator than she was. Then she stood back while he negotiated passage and paid the fee to the sound of boots striding up the gangway.

  “We need to be discreet,” he said placing more coins on the table in front of the captain. “It would be best if no one knew we are sailing with you.”

  The captain pocketed the coins. “Including the man who just came aboard?”

  “A scree, and yes.”

  “Very well. I’ll get rid of him, but then you need to go ashore. We’ll be lading our cargo for the next two hours. You need to come aboard after that.”

  Willowvine didn’t like the idea of being in town while Vitenkar was searching for them. “We can stay out of the way,” she said. “It would be better if we can stay aboard.”

  “No,” the captain said firmly. “Too dangerous. Go through there.” He pointed to a curtain covering a doorway. “My quarters. We’ll make sure it’s safe for you to leave, but leave you must.”

  Chapter 33

  As much as he wanted to rent a room and hide out until sailing, Springheart knew that a two-hour room rental would raise eyebrows. And he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that Sailor’s Haven was not safe since Maynard had hijacked the stone. They were better off going back to the demolished house. Workers wouldn’t be there until first light at the earliest.

  They’d listened as the captain assured the scree that he would not give passage to an elf before hustling him off the ship. Now they were waiting in the shadows of a warehouse to make sure they could get back to their hiding place without being seen.

  “Too bad that window is just an exit,” Willowvine whispered. “The main road is too straight a line. They’ll see us run.”

  The scree they’d dodged turned to enter the gangway of his last ship, the other was walking away from them.

  “It has a slight bend as it goes uphill,” Springheart said. “We’ll be fine after that. Don’t run. It will catch their attention. Keep to the shadows and don’t look back.”

  Willowvine edged around the corner of the building and strode confidently through the shadows along the storefronts. Springheart took one more look at the wharf before following her. They heard footsteps from ahead, not the stamping march of a scree, but not the sound of wares being sent to the boats either.

  They turned the corner to see Devissial’s servant walking toward them. The man caught sight of them and sped his steps.

  “You are wanted,” he said then promptly turned back the way he had come.

  Waiting at Devissial’s home would be better than the cold building, but Springheart couldn’t help feel that he’d end up regretting following this man.

  Willowvine tugged him back before Springheart had taken two steps. “Should I wait in the building? If something happens, one of us should be able to leave.”

  He motioned her on. “Nothing will happen. Devissial wants us to succeed.”

  When the servant showed them into the waiting room, Springheart started to worry. The relative security of the house could be a prison if Willowvine’s concern was valid.

  Devissial entered before Springheart could think through the problem. The man was in his nightclothes, red robe wrapped around him, slippers on his feet, but by the brightness in his eyes, he hadn’t been asleep yet tonight.

  “I have heard some disturbing rumors. I need to know what is happening so I can report to my contact before someone sends a message. If these rumors are true, then our mission is not as secret as we expected.”

  Willowvine sat on one of the sofas, clearly ready to be silent and let Springheart take whatever consequences were coming.

  Truth was the only way to deal with rumor. “The stone was taken from us and is on its way to the mainland,” he said. Truth did not mean babbling on.

  Devissial slumped, worry etching his face. “Your plan?”

>   “We have passage on the first ship out,” Springheart said. “We will regain the stone and sail from there to the final location in plenty of time to meet the deadline.”

  Devissial nodded. “You’ll catch up time on the night sailing because it runs faster. You’ll only be three hours behind when you get there. You clearly know who stole it.”

  It was a question not a statement, but Springheart was not going to give Devissial the power to deal with Maynard. “It’s guild business,” he said. If Devissial handled the betrayal, the guild would never know about Maynard’s action — and they needed to know.

  “If the guild does not deal with it, inform me. I will ensure justice is meted out. Does this person know what the stone is?”

  Now Springheart would have to lie. It would be disastrous for a client to learn that the guild room was not secure. “It is not clear. Since Willowvine and I are alive, they did not hear it from us. But we are not the only ones with the knowledge, so I cannot be sure.” He considered what else he could offer, and then added, “Since the ship is headed to The City, I think we can be sure that the destination is still a secret.”

  The answer didn’t make the man easy, but there was no other information.

  “Very well. If you wish to wait here until sailing, I’ll have my staff make you comfortable.”

  Springheart turned the offer down. The closer they could wait to the wharf, the better.

  * * *

  An hour into the journey Maynard asked the captain for a bird to send a message. “To the guild,” he said, assuming that every ship had sufficient birds trained to the guild.

  It wouldn’t be enough to just beat the elves to the stone. It was certainly not enough to satisfy his plans. The elves had to be blamed for their mistake, and the guild needed information to act. By the time Maynard set his feet back on Lands Home, he would be the hero and the elves would be disgraced.

  The captain gave him an assessing look. “We only have one for the guild. Ten coins.”

  He didn’t have enough to send the message direct. The remaining coins needed to be saved for the journey to the elven lands. The general post would take a little longer, but not so much that the elves would avoid being called to report. “General post?”

  “A bird is going in a few minutes. Two coins.”

  Maynard handed over the payment and scrawled his note.

  The elves bungled the contract. I am continuing to fulfill it. Will return to the guild within days with details.

  That should do it. The guild would have the message in time to prevent the elves from boarding any vessel leaving on the next tide. By the time they set sail, if they were allowed off island, he would be halfway to the elven lands. Halfway to being the best courier, and a step closer to being a guild board member.

  Chapter 34

  Outside Devissial’s house, Springheart was relieved to see that the shadows had deepened. It would be easier to manoeuver on the streets, which were now busier as the various suppliers made last-minute deliveries to the ships preparing to sail. The scree might be searching for them, or at least Willowvine, now they were supposedly trapped on the island.

  “I’m not sure that Devissial trusts us to fix this,” he said as he steered them to the side of the street while keeping alert for searchers. There was still more than an hour before they would be safe aboard Land Ho, a long time to wait, but probably not enough time to escape from capture.

  “It won’t matter,” she said. “We will complete the contract and then he’ll have no problem.”

  They arrived at Wharf Street, slipping around the final corner before Springheart shared his real worry. “If his contact, who must be an elf, hires others, it will get very hard to complete the contract.”

  “No one will be as good as us, or they wouldn’t have come to orphans in the first place.”

  He couldn’t quite feel as confident as Willowvine. He’d lived too long and experienced too many problems to believe that they could stay at the top forever. But there was nothing he could do about it. Springheart decided to take a try at Willowvine’s attitude. They were almost off island. In a couple of days, they would have the stone and be on a ship to Crous.

  “Halt!”

  The shout came from behind them. Springheart’s newfound optimism melted away.

  At least it wasn’t a scree, he thought as he turned. The man had come onto the street from the door of a cafe that was opening for the late tide trade.

  It was the marshal. Guild business.

  Willowvine was poised to run, but Springheart knew it would be better to face whatever the guild wanted, because they would never interfere with a contract. They may even provide them escort to the ship. Running would only waste time, and would likely drive them into any scree who were searching.

  The marshal approached and took Springheart’s arm. The gesture was worrying, the guild didn’t go in for physical punishment, and usually just asked questions.

  “You need to report,” the marshal said, his voice low to avoid notice, but the anger was still evident.

  Springheart jerked his arm free. “Very well, let’s go.” There was no point arguing. It would only take a few minutes, even if Maynard hadn’t actually made the report he was supposed to do earlier.

  “Should I stay on the job?” Willowvine asked.

  If she stayed, at least one of them would make the sailing if his estimate of the purpose of the guild’s summons was wrong. Of course, she had the scree on her trail. There was no guarantee that she would remain free, especially the way she took risks. “No. We stay together.”

  The short march to the guildhall felt too much like an arrest for Springheart to feel comfortable. They were hustled through the private board member entrance. The guild wanted to keep this quiet from the other couriers.

  Inside Lisseline and Deacon waited, seated behind the long table, faces grim, arms folded. They dismissed the marshal and when they were alone Lisseline did the talking. “We have been informed that you lost the object you were contracted to locate and deliver.”

  Springheart felt Willowvine stiffen beside him. He knew that she wanted to blurt out every act of betrayal that Maynard had committed. Springheart’s goal was to give as little information as possible so they could leave. A full report could wait until the stone was back in place. “Maynard is in possession of the object. We are aware of his location. He does not know the delivery point.”

  “Why does he have the object?” Lisseline asked, giving no indication of how they came to know about the theft.

  Springheart considered what to say without seeming to lie. The truth seemed the best option, but just the high points. “He stole it. He was not supposed to know the details of the contract.” He stopped speaking before he reminded them that they assigned Maynard. That would only get them on the defensive and there was no time for the argument that would come.

  Lisseline’s expression told Springheart that he didn’t need to remind them. She glanced at the silent Deacon, then, turning back to Springheart, she asked, “Does the client know?” There was no hint as to her expectation. Having the client know a contract was going wrong was bad, having them find out from someone else would be worse.

  “Yes, and he has confidence in our plan,” Springheart reported.

  Deacon finally joined the interrogation, “And your plan is?”

  Springheart relaxed, if they were asking about the plan, they weren’t going to interfere, or not interfere too much. “We know where Maynard is going. We are going to follow him, retrieve the object, and complete the contract. We are the only ones who have the information needed to do that.”

  The two board members held a whispered conversation. Willowvine nudged Springheart while they were ignored. “Why don’t you tell them all of it?” she whispered.

  He kept his eyes on the board members as he answered, “Think it through.”

  She huffed her annoyance but stepped back

  Lisseline finished the discussio
n by putting her hand on Deacon’s forearm and smiling. Turning back to Springheart, she said, “Very well. When you have completed the contract, we expect a full and detailed report. The board will need to deal with these events.”

  “We need something,” Springheart said before she could dismiss them. Lisseline nodded for him to continue. “The object was originally stolen by a scree merchant. This merchant suspects that Willowvine was behind the recovery. We need to get to the wharf in a half hour to board a ship. It would be better if we didn’t stand the risk of being seen.”

  Lisseline frowned. “I expect the reason Willowvine is a suspect to be part of the report.” She scribbled on a sheet of paper. “Hand this to the marshal. You may wait in the hall until it is time to leave.”

  Taking the paper, he indicated to Willowvine she should leave. Reading the note, the last of his worry melted.

  Ensure that they reach the ship. Springheart will provide the details.

  * * *

  Willowvine watched as the five couriers ran from the hall. Their job was to clear the path to the ship. If they saw scree, they were to misdirect them, otherwise, their presence made sure that she and Springheart had a fast and safe journey from the guildhall to the ship. As the last courier disappeared around the corner, Springheart told her to go.

  Shifting her travel sack onto her shoulder, she matched his pace, a fast walk to avoid the suspicion that would be raised by a run. “So, when we put the…” a warning twinge in her chest reminded her that the oath was still active. There were people around, people who could overhear her words. “It, when we put it back—” The words were burning in her chest. The contract was going badly and if things went completely wrong, she didn’t want Springheart thinking of her as mercenary. She didn’t want him to remember her as a problem.

  Springheart stopped her with a look. “I don’t want to talk about it.”