Lewis shrugged. “Took his place? What do you mean?”
“Just what I said. Arileez took Maynard’s place in Kanesbury society. On one occasion, he even assumed Otto’s identity, too. You see, Arileez has a unique ability among wizards to take on the appearance of any person–or even an animal–and retain that shape for as long as he wants.”
“That’s preposterous!” Katherine said. And though her words sounded sincere, her heart wasn’t fully convinced that Dooley was telling an extravagant lie. Could such a thing actually be true? On a few occasions she felt that Maynard had been distant to her, not in a smug or mean sort of way, but in his overall physical and emotional presence. She could never explain Maynard’s behavior and simply attributed his cool demeanor of late to constant worrying, overwork and the painful disappearances of Nicholas and Adelaide, the two people in Kanesbury most dear to him.
“It’s true,” Dooley insisted, his expression showing no signs of deceit. “I saw it for myself right in Ned Adams’ gristmill. One moment the phony Maynard Kurtz was standing before my eyes just as you are now. Then to emphasize some point or other in a dramatic way as wizards have a tendency to do, he transformed into his original self.” Dooley shuddered, recalling Arileez’ skeletal face and shockingly white hair. “Believe me when I say that that effective demonstration seared itself into my memory. Arileez isn’t the most pleasant specimen of wizards to observe, but he made a most convincing Maynard Kurtz.”
“A Maynard Kurtz who was a respected, upstanding citizen, yet one who could now manipulate people and events according to Caldurian’s wishes,” Katherine said with growing bitterness.
“It was part of Caldurian’s plan to frame Otto,” Lewis concluded with equal disdain. “That’s why they needed Nicholas out of the way, fearing he would uncover their deception.”
Dooley nodded. “With Nicholas around, Caldurian wouldn’t have been able to secretly meet with the impostor Maynard as needed. As I said, Nicholas’ presence on Maynard’s farm was merely an inconvenience.” But despite his explanation, Dooley still noted a trace of skepticism on Katherine’s face. “However, if you still don’t accept my word, I can prove it to you.”
Katherine sighed wearily. “How?”
“By showing you the real Maynard, of course. He’s over there on the island,” he said, pointing across the murky waters. “Along with–”
Katherine and Lewis noted a flicker of shame upon Dooley’s face, emphasized by his downcast eyes and fidgety body. They looked at one another, their astonishment at Dooley’s string of reprehensible deeds giving way to a deadening numbness the longer he talked.
“Now what?” Lewis asked. “No sense holding back, Dooley. You’ve come this far with the truth, so spit out the rest.”
“I know,” he glumly replied, fending off his last impulses to conceal the truth. He finally looked up, too exhausted to wage the battle anymore. “She’s over there, too. Adelaide, I mean, if you haven’t already guessed.”
“Adelaide?” Katherine’s heart ached for the sweet woman, imagining what distress he and Farnsworth had put her through. “Under a sleeping spell?”
“No, nothing like that. But don’t fret. She’s perfectly safe!” he hastily replied. “She’s locked up in a cozy little place–”
“As your prisoner, Doooley!” Katherine stepped forward, making him flinch and dart away from the cart like a startled deer.
“I said she’s fine! That’s why Zachary and I made periodic trips out here to bring her supplies and such.” Dooley scratched his head. “Had she been under a sleeping spell like Maynard, that would have made our lives so much easier.”
“Dooley!”
“Bad thing to say! I know,” he cried out, holding up a hand to keep Katherine at bay as she inched closer to him with Lewis at her side. “Anyway, Adelaide made the unfortunate mistake of catching Zachary and me placing the stolen items from the gristmill in Nicholas’ shed that night. She fled, but we had no choice.”
“So you kidnapped her?” Lewis snapped.
Dooley nodded guiltily. “Zachary held her on his property for a short time before we took her to this swamp. We never let Caldurian know as he would have questioned our competence regarding his other assignments. Then, after Arileez placed Maynard under a sleeping spell, we were ordered to get rid of his body–permanently. So Zachary and I hauled him out here, neither of us having the nerve to kill either him or Adelaide. As awful as we’ve behaved recently, we’re not murderers.”
“But Zachary took one step closer by hiring one to get rid of you,” Katherine reminded him.
“You’ve got a point there. Still,” he continued, raising his index finger to emphasize his next argument, “if Zachary and I hadn’t concealed Adelaide and Maynard here at the swamp, Caldurian or Arileez probably would have killed the poor things themselves–and perhaps Zachary and me in the process. So in a weird way, we saved their lives, don’t you think?”
Katherine clenched her fists, wanting to pummel Dooley. “I think you’re reprehensible!” she said, doing everything to hold her temper in check. “And nothing you say will excuse your foul deeds, Dooley Kramer.” She took a deep breath to calm herself, glancing at Lewis’ unruffled exterior for moral support. “Still, you shed some light on the strange goings-on in Kanesbury of late–though at the point of a dead murderer’s knife–so that will count for something. But now your next step is to release Adelaide. After that, you’ll have much to explain once Constable Brindle hears about all of this.”
Dooley hunched over the side of the cart in defeat. “I know… I know…”
“Enough talk,” Lewis said, sliding Dell Hawks’ knife under his belt. “Take us to the island.”
Dooley looked up, pale and trembling as he considered what was to become of him in the days ahead. “Must I?” He swallowed hard. “Must I face her again?”
“Take us to Adelaide,” Katherine ordered. “Now!”
“All right, all right,” he replied, feeling as if he were slogging his way through a horrible dream. “The boats are hidden over here,” he said, pointing to a small thicket of trees as a defeated sigh escaped his lips. “Follow me.”
CHAPTER 82
The Last Step
They glided over to the island on two boats, Katherine and Lewis in one and Dooley in the other as they silently dipped their paddles into the cold water. The oil lamps resting upon the bow of each boat cast feeble arcs of light upon the inky surface. Soon they landed and disembarked, pulling the boats onto shore and taking the lamps with them. Nearby to their left stood a small shack-like structure on wooden stilts where Adelaide had been kept prisoner. Faint yellow light seeped through cracks in the wooden shutters nailed to the windows. To their right among shadows and dried weeds was a stone and wood shed. A thicket of trees grew between the two structures.
“You’ll find Maynard Kurtz in there,” Dooley said uneasily, pointing to the shed. “He’s sound asleep under Arileez’ spell. That will prove I was telling the truth.” He removed a key from his coat pocket. “I’ll release Adelaide in the meantime, though I don’t think she’ll forgive me.”
“I wouldn’t expect so,” Lewis replied.
Dooley walked away and sighed, knowing one person who could never forgive him as he had died in a cabin deep in the woods. Prince Brendan’s death would forever weigh upon him. “Wait!” he called out, hurrying back. He reached into another pocket and withdrew a small leather pouch containing half the payment for Dell Hawks. He handed it to Katherine. “Zachary gave me this to pay our dead friend. Use it to compensate Adelaide and others in Kanesbury as you see fit. I know it won’t nearly cover the misery they suffered, but…” He cleared his throat, visibly upset. “The rest of the money is on the man’s corpse. You can take it when we leave.”
“All right,” Katherine replied, moved by Dooley’s gesture as she dropped the pouch in her cloak pocket. “Now release Adelaide at once while Lewis and I check on Maynard. Hurry please.”
He dashed off toward the little house with the oil lamp to guide his way. Katherine, in the meantime, took hold of Lewis’ hand with a sense of trepidation, anxious about what they might find. She looked into his eyes for reassurance as he held up the other lamp, the pale light offering them little comfort.
“Are you ready?” he asked, gently squeezing her fingers.
She nodded and the two of them walked slowly to the shed, their hearts beating rapidly as a sense of foreboding overwhelmed them. When they reached the entrance, Lewis handed the lamp to Katherine before pushing hard against the warped door to open it. A flood of stale air escaped through the widening gap as the bottom scraped against the dirt floor. Lewis took the lamp and stepped into the shed first, looking around as the light filled the dark crevices and illuminated a tapestry of gray cobwebs. His eyes immediately locked onto a large figure sprawled upon the floor and wrapped in several tattered blankets. Katherine inched up beside Lewis and gasped when she saw the body, stiff and lifeless at first glance. She and Lewis looked at one another with growing unease before stepping closer to the body and kneeling down next to it. Lewis held the light near the head as Katherine carefully removed the folds of the blanket covering Maynard’s face.
“Do you think he’s…?” Lewis didn’t complete the sentence, noting Katherine’s fearful state. But when she pulled back enough of the blanket for them to recognize Maynard’s face and the long strands of silvery-black hair framing it, Katherine smiled, beaming with relief.
“He’s breathing!” she whispered.
“He looks to be in good health,” Lewis replied, moving the light closer. “How long did Dooley say he’s been out here?”
“Long enough.” Katherine gently shook Maynard on the shoulders, hoping that the real acting mayor of Kanesbury would rise from his deep slumber. “Maynard, wake up,” she softly pleaded. “It’s Katherine Durant.” But Maynard didn’t stir even after she shook him harder and called out his name a little bit louder, all to no avail.
“Dooley spoke the truth,” Lewis said, “both about the shape-shifting wizard and the sleeping spell. But how are we to wake him?”
“I don’t know if we can,” she replied, her eyes fixed upon Maynard’s peaceful expression as her mind grasped for a solution. “Still, we found him, and that’s one obstacle we’ve overcome.”
“But what do we do with him? We can’t leave him here.”
“We’ll have to find a temporary safe place.” She stood up and smoothed the wrinkles out of her cloak. “But, Lewis, we must keep this a secret for now. If word ever gets back to Zachary Farnsworth before Maynard recovers, there’s no telling what he might do or who else he might send to track him down. Remember, Farnsworth will now think that the real Maynard is dead, along with Dooley and Adelaide. We shouldn’t do anything to change that perception until we decide how to act.”
Lewis agreed. “We’ll think of a place to hide him. For now, let’s find Adelaide and Dooley and get away from this swamp. I can’t stand it anymore.”
“Me either,” she replied. “If ever there was an appropriate spot for Farnsworth to conduct his nefarious deeds, this is definitely the place.”
Dooley, meanwhile, walked across a dirt path toward the house, carrying the oil lamp in one hand and clutching the key to the padlocked door in the clammy palm of the other. Strings of awkwardly constructed sentences drifted through his mind as he tried to compose an apology to Adelaide for all he and Farnsworth had done to her. He didn’t expect to receive the woman’s forgiveness and understanding, though he hoped she would let him have a few uninterrupted moments to make his speech. She would surely have her say afterward, but in the end, the laws of Kanesbury would have the final say before rendering its judgment.
Dooley froze as he neared the bottom of the ten steps leading up to the house, suddenly realizing that the citizens of Kanesbury might not be the only ones who could cast sentence upon him. He had already admitted to Katherine and Lewis his crimes against Arrondale which they would most certainly mention to Constable Brindle. Now he suspected that King Justin might sit in judgment before him after this sorry affair was over, wondering with rising fear what royal punishment might fit his crimes. Years of imprisonment? Dooley glumly imagined himself growing older and wasting away inside a cell in one of the King’s garrisons.
Banishment was another possibility Dooley considered as a dull ache settled in his heart. Though he would still retain his freedom, he wondered where he would go if the King sent him to the border of Arrondale with the directive never to return. He imagined himself wandering friendless and lonely along empty roads and across barren fields for a lifetime. As an added consequence, King Justin could ask his allies not to offer sanctuary within their borders to the traitorous Dooley Kramer, thus making his life miserable to his dying days as he explored the cold, desolate regions of Laparia and beyond.
Dooley pictured himself aging gracelessly and in misery until his dying days. Yet that final day of his life might come sooner than he’d prefer if King Justin decided upon death as the appropriate punishment. Had he really committed such terrible deeds to deserve that hideous fate? He halfheartedly tried to convince himself that he hadn’t been such a horrible individual, but as a chill drove the last bits of hope from his heart, he knew deep inside that a sentence of death was a distinct possibility and rightly so. He wondered how many people had been killed, injured or had their lives disrupted as a result of his assistance to Caldurian, and indirectly, to Vellan. He couldn’t imagine the number, nor did he want to know.
Dooley stared at his feet inside the wavering circle of sickly light cast from the oil lamp. He had wasted enough time thinking. Now he had to act. He looked up at the house looming above and uneasily inhaled a lungful of the cold swamp air.
“First things first,” he whispered, nervously combing a hand through his hair. “Adelaide gets to scold me before anyone else can have a go at it. It’s the only fair way.”
After taking another deep breath, he trudged up the ten creaky steps one at a time, ready to face his first of many judgments. As he slowly ascended with his head bowed, Dooley didn’t notice the pair of wide eyes watching him through a crack in one of the front shutters. They swiftly disappeared when he reached the door and held out the key. He knew the time had arrived for him to begin paying for his misdeeds.
With a shaky hand, Dooley inserted the key into the rust-coated padlock and turned it. A metallic click rose and died in the damp air. He set the oil lamp on the last step below the small upper platform and then removed the padlock and left it hanging from the latch. He had always dreaded coming to the swamp with Farnsworth to see Adelaide every six days, feeling terribly sorry for her but making an effort not to show it. The journey always left a dull, gnawing pain in the pit of his stomach and usually ruined his appetite the following day. Dooley sadly noted that Farnsworth never seemed to have been bothered by such symptoms. Maybe tonight would go a small way toward redeeming himself.
He clenched his jaw and hesitated before grabbing the handle and pushing the door open. A flood of soft light and warm air spilled through the widening crack.
“Adelaide?” he gently called out when not seeing her standing in the middle of the room where she usually waited upon their arrival. “Adelaide? It’s Dooley,” he said, stepping into the room. “I’m alone tonight since–”
His blood ran cold when he saw Adelaide lying on the floor upon her right side near the fireplace, unmoving, a shawl falling off her shoulders. Dooley raced over to her, leaving the door wide open which allowed cool air to waft inside. When he noticed her eyes were closed but that she was still breathing, he felt only a little better, though still feared the worst. A straw broom lay alongside her. Dooley guessed that she had collapsed while sweeping the floor to while away the dreary hours in confinement. He feared he may have her death upon his hands if he didn’t get some help soon.
“Adelaide! Please wake up!” he cried, kneeling beside her and touching
the back of his fingers to her cheek. Her skin felt warm and he took that as a positive sign. He gently shook her shoulder, hoping that she might have only fainted. “Adelaide, can you hear me? It’s Dooley Kramer. I’ve come to–”
She stirred. “Dooley?” The single word was faintly uttered by the woman, though her eyes remained closed and her lips barely moved. “Is that really–you?”
“Yes!” He nearly shouted as his heart beat faster. He studied Adelaide’s careworn face beneath her disheveled gray hair, her frail body bent at the knees. “Can you understand me, Adelaide?” He leaned in closer and pushed aside the straw head of the broom which rested near her face. His spirit rose when he saw movement beneath her eyelids. “Open your eyes, Adelaide. Open your eyes. Wake up and talk to me.”
Slowly, Adelaide raised her eyelids as if responding to his plea. She appeared tired and disoriented yet kept a confused stare locked upon Dooley’s countenance. He smiled, and after a few moments, Adelaide seemed to recognize the familiar face.
“Dooley?” she whispered.
“Yes,” he replied, almost giddily. “It’s me. Are you hurt?”
She paused, her thoughts seemingly adrift. “I don’t remember falling, but I think I’m okay. A few sore limbs maybe. A bit dizzy perhaps.”
“I’ll help you slowly sit up,” he said. “We’ll take it one step at a time, all right?”
Adelaide nodded, raising her left arm and resting it upon Dooley’s shoulder as he leaned in closer to support her. “Thank you,” she kindly replied.
Dooley beamed with gratitude that he was able to assist her for once in his life. He helped her to sit up on the floor, not noticing as she wrapped her right fingers tightly around the broomstick. He leaned back and glanced at her face and head for any signs of injury, still on his knees and showing much concern.
Nicholas Raven and the Wizards' Web (The Complete Epic Fantasy) Page 130