“Yes, ma’am. Er…” The man—Horis?—quirked his head. “Are you Professor Ravenwood’s other daughter? You seem quite familiar, but hm.” He looked at her pistol and her seaweed-draped clothing. “The last time I saw you, wasn’t it at the university in the capital?”
“I believe so, yes. I’m Rysha.”
“Rysha Ravenwood, that’s it.” The man lowered a hand to snap his fingers, but looked at Trip’s sword, and paused. “I had a class with your sister.”
Trip lowered Azarwrath, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to be friendly to an intruder inspecting the secret door to their hideout, even if Rysha did know him.
“I must confess,” Horis said, “you’re the last person I expected to find here, at the doorstep to the Sanctuary of Lyshandrasa the Lovely. At least, I hope I’ve finally found the sanctuary.” He frowned at the cobweb-bedecked walls around him. “If I can’t get the rubbing that Moe requested, he’ll never deign to work with me.”
“Moe… Zirkander?” Rysha asked.
Horis blinked. “Yes. You know him? He’s not exactly, ah, sanctioned, shall we say? If you’re still studying archaeology, I’m surprised you would be willing to speak his name, notorious treasure hunter and ignorer of boundaries that he is. But are you studying it? I’d heard you became a soldier.” He looked at her clothing again—Rysha wasn’t wearing her full uniform, as they were all trying to stay incognito, but her fatigue trousers and combat boots definitely didn’t look like archaeologist wear.
“I did.”
Horis yawned and wiped his eyes. “Forgive me. It’s very late. If I didn’t have a deadline—ah, but I’m sure you’re uninterested in such matters.” He peered at Trip, then stuck his hand out to him. “As your fellow—officer, is it?—said, I’m Horis Silverdale. Lord Silverdale, technically, but I rarely feel worthy of the noble treatment, I confess. You may not have heard of my family. We’re up north, most of our land in the mountains. Our land, I say, but of course, I claim little of it. I’m the youngest of seven boys. I stand to inherit a lovely hill with three trees on it.”
“Three? That’s a respectable number. You could perhaps build a table with three trees.” Rysha smiled at Trip.
He stirred, realizing he hadn’t offered his name and might appear standoffish. She seemed to want to include him—and his table-making hobby—in the conversation.
“With one, if it’s stout enough. And the wood is mature and strong.” Trip sheathed Azarwrath, deciding he could be on guard without looking like he meant to skewer the man. “I’m Captain Trip.” He clasped the offered hand, finding it soft and without callouses, what he would expect from a noble. Especially a pretty one.
“Your name is Trip? Well, you can’t complain that it’s unwieldy and difficult to pronounce.” Horis smiled.
Trip tried to decide if he was being mocked.
“I don’t mean to be forward,” Horis said, “but are you hiding from someone? I don’t have any weapons, so I’d like some warning if I’m likely to be embroiled in an altercation because I’m standing next to you. I can’t imagine a reason for soldiers to be in these tunnels, otherwise. Unless—” his eyes grew puzzled, and he tilted his head, “—Moe didn’t also send you to get rubbings, did he? I understood it was a test of sorts, but I didn’t think there was a lineup of people eager to work with him. Especially soldiers.”
Rysha’s brow furrowed, and she glanced at Trip before answering Horis. “We actually did run into Moe Zirkander a couple of weeks back, but he didn’t make any requests of us. He actually helped us locate something.”
“For a commoner, he’s an uncommonly good resource.” Horis smiled at his wordplay.
If Moe is in town, Trip told Rysha silently, I wonder if it’s possible he would have heard anything about the stasis chamber.
His expertise is ancient history, not modern crime, Rysha thought back. Though I would be curious to find him and learn if those girls we rescued found safety.
“I note you didn’t answer my question,” Horis said, his tone turning dry. He glanced past them toward the intersection, as if he worried trouble would come stomping down it. “If there’s some danger, and I could possibly convince you to find another dead end to hide in, I would be most appreciative. There’s surely nothing of military significance down here.”
“We’re not being followed. Probably.” Rysha looked at Trip.
He shook his head. He hadn’t checked recently, but Jaxi or Azarwrath should have warned him if someone was coming. Even so, he would prefer not to stand out here indefinitely, as it was possible someone would hear them talking and wander this way.
“I don’t have much time,” Horis said. “I’m supposed to meet Moe at the waterfront tomorrow. If I prove my archaeological abilities by finding the sanctuary and taking a rubbing of a plaque he said would be inside, he’s agreed to take me on the expedition he’s putting together. To find the Forbidden Treasure of Amon Akarth. This is, he said, a test of my worthiness. I admit, it’s a touch galling to have to prove my worth to a commoner, but these are not our grandfathers’ times.” He smiled at Rysha, as if certain she would feel a similar lament for the lost golden age of the nobility.
She did smile back, which made Trip uneasy. He wanted to get rid of this fellow, not establish a rapport with him. Even if he was exactly what he said—and so far, Trip didn’t sense Horis lying—having him here might draw attention to the area and jeopardize the mission and the safety of the babies.
Besides, Trip found it suspicious that this Horis had shown up, knowing about and wanting to explore the sanctuary, at the same time that Trip and the others were using it as a hideout. He’d had the sense, from the way it was hidden and undisturbed inside, that few had discovered it over the centuries. Admittedly, he’d felt clever for examining negative space and finding it himself. If he learned that Moe Zirkander had ambled by the week before, and countless others visited it every year, he would feel less clever.
“I know it’s unseemly for me to want to join forces with a treasure hunter, and I hope you won’t tell my grandmother, but as I implied, my financial future is somewhat in question. Finding Amon Akarth could be a great boon, even if I received only a small percentage of the gold and silver reputed to be inside. I also wouldn’t mind having my name put down in the history books as one of those who discovered it.” He looked warmly at Rysha.
Their gazes held for a long moment, which made Trip uneasy again, this time for reasons that had nothing to do with the mission.
“I don’t think you’ll find your sanctuary back here,” Trip said. “Rysha and I were hoping to have some private alone time, so if you could move your search elsewhere, we would appreciate it.”
He wondered if he could employ his power to convince Horis to leave. Would it be wrong to use a little mental persuasion in order to keep their hideout secret and the stasis chambers safe? Even though Rysha recognized the man, that didn’t mean he wasn’t a threat. He admitted to needing money. What if this seventh son who stood to inherit a mere three trees had heard about the reward for the chapaharii swords? Bhodian probably had a reward out for the rest of the stasis chambers too.
“In a tunnel?” Horis peered around, flicking a finger at a dangling cobweb. “It’s rather musty.”
“We enjoy exotic bed-free locales,” Trip said.
“Trip.” Rysha swatted him on the arm. Her cheeks were pink.
Hells, he hadn’t meant to embarrass her, just convince this interloper to lope somewhere else.
“That sounds somewhat primitive,” Horis said dubiously.
“Yes, that’s me. I believe you’ll find what you seek down another tunnel.” Trip tried to use some of his power, imagining an underground ancient dragon sanctuary located on the far side of the city. He did his best to convince Horis that he wanted to go over there to look for it.
Horis smiled brightly at him. “Oh no. I’m quite convinced it’s here. Would you like to see my map? I consulted three older maps and a number of a
ncient texts from the pre-Lagresh era, some from as far away as Eastern Cofahre. I found some excellent references in the appendix of Dragon Outposts and Magical Sanctuaries. Are you familiar with that text? I’m quite proud of the map I created from a time period when maps were crude and inaccurate. I’m very resourceful. Moe Zirkander would be a fool not to take me on his expedition. Do you want to see my map?”
Trip shook his head, but Rysha stepped forward, eyeing the book Horis had pulled out. “I wouldn’t mind taking a look.”
“Rysha.” Silently, Trip added, Don’t encourage him.
He’s not going away, Trip. I have a feeling he’ll camp out here until he finds the secret lever. And we can’t just leave. Is Major Kaika still in there?
Yes.
Trip frowned as Horis opened his journal and showed off his map. Rysha had come forward to stand next to him and look at it. She had the most intrigued and fascinated expression on her face, one that promptly made Trip wish he’d made a map. Even if he hadn’t perused ancient texts and appendices, he could have used his senses to create an accurate one of the area.
“Our hideout is inside the sanctuary you’re seeking,” Rysha told Horis, and Trip fell against the wall. “My colleague is simply being wary, but I can show you the plaque. It won’t take you long to do a rubbing. And then, as a favor, would you mind if I accompanied you to meet Mr. Zirkander tomorrow? I have a couple of questions for him.”
Rysha, Trip said sternly into her mind.
What? Moe can tell us about the girls, and he might know more about Dreyak’s death too.
Trip rubbed the back of his neck. Jaxi, what do you think of this man?
Nothing special, but I also find his appearance suspicious. It seems possible he’s hoping to collect your new friend’s reward.
I don’t sense that in his surface thoughts. Do you? Trip could try to probe more deeply, as he’d done with the vile cult leader down in the bottom of the outpost, but he shied away from that. He remembered the pain his forced intrusion had inflicted and the way blood had trickled from the man’s nostrils as he had unintentionally caused physical damage. This man hadn’t declared himself an enemy. Yet.
No, Jaxi said. I only sense that he’s passionate about relics, knows exactly what Ridge’s daddy looks like, and that he’s interested in your lieutenant’s boobs.
What? Trip almost blurted the word out loud.
You can’t be surprised. Your clothing is still damp, and that shirt is nicely form-fitting on her. Most of the blood washed out in the harbor too.
Trip rubbed the back of his neck again, telling himself he was above worrying about such things, but he couldn’t help but scrutinize the Iskandian nobleman to see if he was checking out Rysha’s chest. It was hard to tell with Horis’s face tilted toward the pages, but he could easily be sneaking peeks. And he was standing closer to her than he had been a moment ago.
What do you think, Azarwrath? Trip asked.
They are nice.
What?
Her cogs, as you once called them.
Trip rubbed his neck harder. I meant about Horis’s thoughts.
Ah. On the surface, he seems exactly what he says, but there is something elusive about his mind. I find it hard to pin down his specific thoughts. I just get a general impression of archaeological interest and excitement toward a potential treasure hunt.
Yes, me too. Any thoughts about what that elusiveness could mean? Does he have dragon blood?
Azarwrath hesitated. I’m not sensing it, but it’s possible. He could have a small amount. Perhaps he’s learned to hide it, since having dragon blood in your country is not, I understand, a good thing these days.
It wasn’t when Sardelle first came out of her stasis chamber, Jaxi said, but we’re attempting to instill in the populace a new appreciation for those with dragon ancestors.
“It’s a lovely map.” Rysha seemed to notice that she’d moved closer to Horis—or more likely that Horis had moved closer to her. She stepped away, which Trip liked, but she gave Horis a friendly smile, which he liked less. “I would love to see the reference books you brought with you.” She waved to his backpack. “But I’m afraid my comrade and I are leaving the city soon, so we don’t have much time for extracurricular activities.”
Comrade? Trip could see her not wanting to call him her lover, especially since he’d figured out they were officers—they should be perceived as conducting themselves professionally—but “comrade” seemed so platonic.
“Such as being actively romantic in a tunnel?” Horis raised his eyebrows.
“No. Tri—Captain Trip was only joking.”
“I would love to show you the other texts I brought along.” Horis smiled shyly at Rysha. “There may be some you’re not familiar with. I’m something of a collector and have amassed an eclectic library. And perhaps you could show me your texts.”
Trip squinted at him, trying to decide if that was a double entendre.
“This isn’t an archaeological mission for us,” Rysha said. “Not exactly. So I didn’t bring research texts along.”
“None at all? With your interest in such matters, that’s hard to believe. You haven’t discovered any interesting tomes here have you?”
Rysha hesitated. “Nothing of note.”
The door ground open, startling Trip.
At first, he thought Horis had done something—mentally if not physically—to pull the switch. But Kaika appeared in the doorway, her pistol in one hand and Eryndral in the other. The sword glowed an impressive pale green in the dim tunnel.
“What’s with all the chitchat outside our secret hideout? You two didn’t know that secret hideouts come with a no-blathering-at-the-front-door rule?” Kaika frowned at Horis. “And a no-inviting-strangers-to-visit rule?”
Trip stirred, watching her sword and Horis’s startled reaction to it. Was the blade glowing for him? Or for Trip?
Kaika turned her frown on Trip, and he saw that urge to attack him come over her, her eyes growing fierce as the sword no doubt reminded her for the thousandth time that slaying him would be particularly fine. He telepathically ordered Eryndral to stand down. Kaika may have been giving the order at the same time. The pale glow faded significantly.
“This is Horis Silverdale, ma’am,” Rysha said. “I recognize him from—”
“Silverdale?” Kaika gave Horis a longer look. “Guess I should have guessed. You have the family looks. You one of the younger brothers?”
“Indeed, ma’am.” He bowed low. “Are you of the nobility? It sounds like you know my family.”
“I knew your brother Fyothor at one time. A brief but vigorous and satisfying time.” Kaika smirked.
“Fyothor, ma’am?” Horis scratched his head. “Did you mean Fyodontor, by chance?”
“Ah, yes, that’s it.” Kaika waved as if she’d forgotten, but Trip sensed that had been a test for Horis. “I can’t remember the names of all the men I’ve slept with.”
Horis peered past Kaika into the dark sanctuary. With the sun long gone from the sky, no light filtered down from above, but a lit lantern rested on the stone floor.
“Horis needs to take a rubbing of the plaque in our sanctuary, ma’am,” Rysha told Kaika.
“What sanctuary?” Kaika shifted to stand in front of the open door. “This is just a dark hole where I’ve been waiting for my subordinates to reappear while cleaning out the dirt under my nails.”
“Dark hole?” Horis protested. “I can see Lyshandrasa the Lovely presiding over it even from here. Won’t you let me look around? I won’t tell anyone that it’s been usurped by the Iskandian military as some kind of base of operations. And fingernail salon.”
Rysha snorted.
Trip told himself it would be pathetic of him to feel threatened because another man’s jokes tickled her humor. He wasn’t that insecure. He was, however, still suspicious of the man.
“I told him he could come in,” Rysha admitted.
“Why?” Kaika frowne
d again.
“In exchange, he should be willing to take me to meet Moe Zirkander in the morning. Moe helped us once. He might be able to help us again.”
“I’m happy to take you to see him.” Horis smiled and slipped inside past Kaika, not appearing alarmed that her hand tightened around the hilt of her sword.
Are the stasis chambers covered, Major? Trip asked silently, coming to stand beside her.
Kaika seemed startled by his telepathic contact, but she recovered and replied. Yeah, I threw the blanket over them before opening the door.
Horis went straight to the statue, not seeming to have any interest in the devices in the wagon.
Trip still couldn’t read any deception in his surface thoughts. All he could tell was that Horis seemed a touch smitten with the dragon and looked forward to treasure hunting with Moe.
I do not think this is a good idea, Telryn, Azarwrath said.
I agree, but I’m not in charge now that Kaika has come out. Fortunately, she’s looking at him like she’s thinking of flaying him with her sword. Trip approved of that look.
You may be mixing up her looks, Jaxi told him. She’s actually thinking of removing all his clothing with her sword so she can see what he looks like naked. Admittedly, they’re both predatory expressions.
Ew.
He is handsome. Like a young Ridgewalker Zirkander. Though I doubt Ridge ever wandered around with ink on his fingers and a pencil behind his ear.
“Lieutenant Ravenwood,” Kaika said, eyeing the empty scabbard at her waist. “You seem to be missing something.”
“Yes, ma’am. It’s a long story. Actually, it’s a short story that ends in the creation of a difficult problem with a solution I haven’t discovered yet.”
Unraveled: Heritage of Power, Book 4 Page 17