His heart quickened at the sight of Rhendish sittingnext to Avidan. The two adepts played some sort of card game, whichAvidan had prudently chosen to observe.
Muldonny’s eyes narrowed as he took in the metal-cladFox. “And where is Master Insa’amid’s servant?”
“Thief take clockwork,” Fox said, making his voicelow and grating.
It was, in his opinion, an excellent approximation ofthe servant’s voice. The slight tick at one corner of Avidan’smouth indicated that the alchemist thought otherwise.
“My most abject apologies,” Avidan murmured. “Theservant came highly recommended. I will recompense you for any lossand shall deal most harshly with him.”
“You needn’t trouble yourself on either account,” theadept said. “I’m certain he has already been dealt with.”
“Servants,” said Rhendish, shaking his head incommiseration. “You treat them well, pay them fairly, and stillthey rob you.”
Muldonny drew a card from the deck and scowled at hishand. “So I am told.”
Fox raised a metal hand to his mouth, the signal forAvidan to press for information.
“One of your servants has been caught stealing?”
“He was caught, yes, but unfortunately long after thetheft,” Rhendish said. “He sold the item before we could recoverit.”
A muscle twitched near Muldonny’s left eye. “Nothingof great value, I trust.”
Rhendish waved one hand dismissively. “A curiosity,nothing more.”
They played several hands in silence. At lastRhendish threw down his cards.
“My luck is singularly bad today. It would appearthat your winnings exceed my purse. I’ll send my steward firstthing tomorrow to settle up.”
“There is no need,” Muldonny said. “This was afriendly game, nothing more.”
Rhendish’s sardonic smile fell just short of insult.He removed a ring and handed it to Muldonny.
“But I insist. Perhaps you will take this as payment,or at least as a surety of payment to come.”
Muldonny’s eyes widened as he took in the pale pinkcrystal and the tiny, intricate runes encircling the silver band.“This is elf-crafted! It’s far too valuable.”
“Not to me,” Rhendish said. “I have more than enoughelven trinkets in my collection of curiosities and, truth be told,I don’t particularly fancy wearing pink.”
The adept slipped the ring onto his small finger andadmired his plump hand. “In that case, I accept with pleasure.Please send word any time you feel the urge to gamble.”
“I have several other elf-crafted items that might beof interest to you,” Rhendish said. “It’s a shame about the theft,though. I suspect you would have risked a great deal to possessthat dagger.”
The adept’s studiously casual tone set off alarms inFox’s mind.
According to Honor, Muldonny possessed a stolen elvendagger. According to Rhendish, an elven dagger was recently stolenfrom him. Rhendish was clearly putting Muldonny on notice. Andelven daggers were not exactly plentiful in Sevrin. Fox did notrequire an abacus to add these pieces of information into adisturbing total.
Why hadn’t Honor mentioned that Rhendish oncepossessed the Thorn?
On second thought, he realized there was no reasonwhy she should. She knew nothing of the enmity between him and theadept.
Still, the fact remained that if Rhendish had aninterest in the dagger, their task had just become much morecomplicated.
“It seems that we are both unfortunate in our choiceof servants,” Avidan said. He lifted his cup in salute to his host.“It would appear that Muldonny has the right idea.”
Rhendish shrugged. “Clockwork servants might beimpervious to greed, but they do wear out rather quickly. You mustgo through dozens each year.”
“Mine are built for strength and durability, but yes,a few.”
Muldonny lifted one hand in a gesture Fox remembered.He plodded forward and reached for the samovar.
The metal hands were fully articulated, but withoutthe sensation of touch, Fox had no idea whether his grip wassecure. He gripped the vessel hard enough, in his estimation, tocrack the glass and dribble a bit of tea onto Avidan’s stolenfinery.
The samovar shattered, dumping the entire contents ofthe pot into Avidan’s lap. The alchemist jumped to his feet andpeeled off his sodden outer robe.
Rhendish smirked. “Well, it’s certainly obvious thatyou’ve built for strength.”
Avidan held up a hand to cut off Muldonny’sapologies. “We are none of us well served today by those in ouremploy. Perhaps you will permit me to return at another time?”
“Of course! I look forward to continuing ourdiscussion.”
The alchemist bowed to each adept in turn. “No doubtyour servant is dexterous enough to see me out.”
“That is not a risk I care to take.”
Muldonny reached for a bell. Three clockworkservants, identical to the form Fox wore, stomped into thegarden.
The adept pointed to one of the constructs. “You. SeeMaster Insa’amid to the gate. You two dispose of this andreturn to the garden.”
It took Fox a moment to realize that he was the itemslated for disposal.
He turned to run. Before he could take a single step,the two clockwork guards flanked him, closed metal hands around hisupper arms, and carried him out of the garden.
They marched him to the outer wall and tossed himover.
As the ground sped up to meet him, Fox hoped thatMuldonny’s claim of durability was more than an idle boast.
Stars sparkled in the sky over Stormwall Island whenFox awoke. He struggled for several moments to sit up before itoccurred to him to remove the metal shell.
One of the gloves had come loose during the fall. Foxshook it off and tossed it aside. It landed with a sharp clunk ofmetal on metal.
Starlight glimmered on piles of metal around him. Ittook a while for his befuddled mind to understand that he’d beentossed into a pit of defective or outdated clockwork creatures.
Fox flung the arm of another knight off his chest androlled away from the metallic corpses. He shed the armor andclimbed out of the pit as quickly as he would flee a massgrave.
That was foolishness, of course. These were machines.The pit might as well be filled with broken pottery.
An unnerving whimper came from one mangled form. Foxhad already started to turn back to help when he remembered thevoice belonged to a machine, not a comrade.
He squared his shoulders and strode off into thenight.
But he took with him the odd conviction that he wouldcarry the memory of this desertion for the rest of his days.
Chapter Eight: Blood and Bone
For the next several days, Delgar kept the dwarvesworking in shifts, chipping away at the solid stone between a seacave and the shaft Fox had discovered under Muldonny’sworkroom.
The elf, to her credit, worked as hard as any of thedwarves, carrying away baskets of rubble and refilling tankardsfaster than thirst could keep pace. In fact, she worked longerhours than anyone. She’d gotten a sword from Fox’s little armoryand spent the night shifts standing guard.
This puzzled Delgar. Elves might look delicate, butthey were known and feared for their bursts of speed or strength ormagic. They could unleash quick flashes of power like cloudsspewing forth lightning. This sort of sustained effort thiself exhibited struck Delgar as unnatural.
At the end of the sixth day of work, the elf lingeredafter the first team of dwarves had disappeared into the sea cave’shidden passages. Delgar always stayed to get the second shiftstarted and he insisted upon a short respite to rest the stone. Theconstant noise and vibration of excavation could stress stone inunexpected ways.
The elf waited until the day workers were well beyondhearing range.
“About the Thorn.”
Delgar folded his arms. “Here it comes.”
“I just want to make sure there are nomisunderstandings. The dagger must be returned to the forest.”
“And it
will be.”
“Immediately,” the elf said. “Not decades later, notafter you’ve used its power to clear the tunnels and halls ofancient Cragslore.”
He placed one hand over his heart and affected awounded expression. “The thought never crossed my mind.”
“Of course it did not. It entered your mind andremained firmly in the center of it.”
The dwarf’s response fell midway between a laugh anda snort. “You’ve been around Fox for too long. Three more days, andyou’ll be making bad puns.” He picked up a lantern. “Come on. I’llwalk with you to the camp.”
She picked up her basket and fell into step with him.“There is too much power in the Thorn to permit its safe use onSevrin.”
Delgar’s jaw firmed. “I do not need an elf to schoolme in the structural integrity of a tunnel system. Why do you thinkI’m going to all this trouble to help you? I want the Thorn removedfrom Sevrin as much as you want to take it away.”
“That is good to hear. I have found, however, thatgluttons seldom eat moderately when presented with platters ofcakes.”
“I don’t know what you’re insinuating, but I’m allmuscle.” He paused for a cocky smile. “If you don’t believe me, I’dbe happy to take off my shirt and flex.”
The elf sent him a withering glance. “The Thorn mustreturn to the forest. Do not test me on this.”
He was seriously contemplating a childish foray into“ Or what?” when a three-foot expanse of wing peeled free of thetunnel wall.
Honor’s sword leaped from its sheath before he couldreach for his miner’s pick.
She darted forward and swung her sword in a risingbackhand slash. The blade sliced through the snout of a creaturethat was half giant moth, half mosquito.
The elf ducked away from a splash of venom and seizedone of the creature’s wings. She spun once and flung it into thepath of a second moth. They went down in a tangle of wings andspindly limbs. The elf leaped on the struggling creatures andstomped several times.
They stood in silence for several moments,listening.
The distance sea murmured. Farther down the tunnel,water dripped from wet stone to fall with an echoing ping.Delgar was just started to breathe easily when he heard a paperyrustle.
The sound spread through the tunnels like fire on drygrass. A swift-growing whisper of many wings filled thedarkness.
“The lantern!” the elf snapped. “Put it down and moveaway.”
Delgar set down the lantern and fell back as a swarmof moths burst into the light.
Two of the moths came at him. He batted the first oneaway with the flat of his pickaxe and seized the other by thesnout. Furious wings buffeted him as the creature fought to getfree.
Suddenly Delgar found himself holding a disembodiedhead. He sent the elf an incredulous glance. She’d already spunaway and cut down two more moths.
He tossed aside the grisly thing and batted awayanother of the creatures. He looked around for the elf and foundher in the center of a storm of wings. Delgar hefted his axe andwaded in.
They worked together, the elf slicing flight from thedeadly creatures as she drew the slowly diminishing swarm away fromthe light, Delgar following to finish off the fallen monsters.
Finally the grim trail ended in a crumpled pile. Thelast of the creatures gave a fluttering twitch and lay still.
The elf sank down to the tunnel floor, her backagainst solid stone. Delgar kept standing, just in case more showedup.
“Deathwing moths,” Honor said in a conversationaltone. “Dwarf tomb guardians. Not the sort of thing I’d expect tofind in a Sevrin sea cave.”
Delgar made no response. They both knew where thedeadly creatures must have laired.
“You have your own reasons for excavating Cragslore,”she said. “I accept that. But before you start delving into yourancestors’ tombs, you might want to give some thought to how theydied.”
She pushed herself to her feet and headed off downthe tunnel. Delgar heard the sound of dwarven voices raised ingreeting. Four days ago, the dwarves working the night shift mighthave passed Honor with a grunt of disapproval. Now, if they knewshe could lead them to a treasure trove of carmite, Delgar wasn’tsure he could stop them from following.
The sooner the elf and her damned dagger were back onthe mainland and deep in the forest, the happier he’d be.
Two days later, the dwarves broke through into theshaft leading to Muldonny’s workroom. Honor tried not to dwellovermuch upon the jumble of human and mechanical remains they foundat the base.
Climbing the shaft proved surprisingly easy. Thecircular pit had been fashioned of rough-cut stones, so handholdswere plentiful and secure.
She and Fox made the first climb. In their packs werefour sets of ropes and pulleys that Avidan had made to Honor’sdesign. Forest elves used such devices to drop quickly from thetreetops, and Honor figured they would also aid a quick descentinto the tunnel once the dagger had been secured.
She passed the rest of the day instructing Fox,Delgar, and Avidan in their use. Under her direction, they climbedthe shaft and rappelled down over and over, until Delgar declaredthat he’d rather jump into the pit without the damned rope thanclimb one more time.
After that, there was nothing to do but wait.
Two more days passed before Vishni intercepted aninvitation for Shavin Insa’amid to return to Muldonny’s manor.
Delgar set to work on the invitation at once,scraping away selected bits of ink with a tiny knife and thenadding some script of his own. He moved the meeting a day ahead andadded a postscript that instructed Shavin to come directly toMuldonny’s workroom.
Fox picked up the invitation and let out a whistle ofadmiration. “I need to start thinking of things we cancounterfeit.”
Vishni tucked her arm through his and beamed up athim. “It’s good to hear you talking about your own work.” She senta pointed sidelong glance toward Honor. “I don’t like being leftbehind.”
“Actually, I think you should come.”
Silence, Honor noted with wry amusement, had athousand difference voices. Vishni’s silence sang withastonishment.
“We don’t know where the dagger is being kept,” shesaid, although she was fairly certain where it must be. Rhendishhad spoken of Muldonny’s interest in elves, and Fox confirmed theadept’s fascination. If the adept knew anything at all about elvencustoms, he would keep elven treasures in the highest placeavailable to him.
“Fox’s description of Muldonny’s manor suggestsseveral possible locations. If it’s in one of the towers, Vishnicould fly up, get the dagger, and bring it to Delgar.”
Vishni pursed her lips and regarded Honor with waryinterest. “I suppose I could do that.”
“She’ll be seen,” Fox protested. “Can you imagine thehunt that will follow if Rhendish learns there’s a fairy inSevrin?”
Honor noted the way the young thief’s gaze darted herway and slid casually aside, as if he was trying to take hermeasure without attracting attention to that fact. She’d seen thisseveral times since Avidan’s meeting with Muldonny. Clearly,Rhendish’s appearance at Muldonny’s stronghold had left Fox withconcerns.
Honor was none too happy about that, herself.Rhendish had plans beyond those he shared with her. She had noteven a breath of doubt about that. But his appearance at Muldonny’smanor so soon before their attempt to retrieve the Thorn raisedquestions she feared would be answered in tears and blood.
For the first time, regret cast a shadow upon thebright light of duty.
These people had given generously of their time andlabor to aid her quest. She suspected that Delgar had impressedupon them the importance of finding the Thorn and removing it fromSevrin. Still, Fox and his small band were risking their lives toretrieve it. Even if their motivation began and ended with theirown survival, she regretted deceiving them.
From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse ofVishni’s knowing smile.
Apparently not everyone was quite as deceived asHonor had believed.
“My people know of this Rhendish,” Honor said withfeigned regret. “We consider him a dangerous man, no friend to thefey folk. What you say is true-the fairy cannot risk herself forthis task.”
This ploy brought a flicker of admiration to Vishni’sdark eyes.
“The fairy,” Vishni said in acid tones, “canmake her own decisions. If I want to fly around Sevrin like a mothat lamp-lighting, that’s exactly what I’ll do.”
“The decision to fly or not is yours to make,” Honorsaid, speaking over Fox’s protests. “But let us at least agree thatyou will do so only as a last resort.”
A smile tugged at one corner of Vishni’s lips andfound a reluctant echo on Fox’s face. “I’ve heard that before.”
“Yes, but will you listen this time?” Delgardemanded.
No spring morning could match the sunshine inVishni’s smile. “I will do everything Honor wants me to,” she saidsweetly.
The elf and fairy exchanged a look of perfectunderstanding.
They passed the evening quietly and retired to theirrooms early. Honor doubted that she was the only one who lay awakethat night.
The trip to Stormwall Island absorbed most of themorning. Since the sea cave was inaccessible by water except at lowtide, they made their way through a deeply buried passage betweenthe main island and the fortress.
Honor was relieved to see Delgar’s crew gathered atthe work camp, armed for battle and ready to protect the tunnels ifthe plan faltered. By then, her part in the dagger’s retrievalwould be over. It was good to know that her friends would not fightalone.
Her friends? When had thatoccurred?
She touched the padded bag containing the glassdagger Avidan had prepared for her and reminded herself of the harddecisions ahead.
They followed the grim trail of gray dust, all thatremained of the deathwing moths, to the door hiding the openinginto what Avidan called an oubliette-a forgotten place.
Delgar moved the hidden door. He led the way up theshaft, in case his strength was needed to move the metal grate outof the way.
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