Woostra grunted. “It won’t be the first miracle we’ve performed since all this started.”
Back on the Quickening, it was Mirai who came up with a solution to their problem of how to gain access to the contents of the trunk without exposing Railing’s presence.
“Sarys doesn’t need to know you’re there at all, Railing,” she told him. “Not if I’m the one who goes to see her.”
They were discussing the matter on the foredeck—the Highland girl, the boy, Woostra, Skint, and Farshaun. Austrum was in the pilot box, and the other Rovers were lounging about nearby, but all were out of hearing. Woostra had just finished relating what he and Railing had discovered at Paranor, concluding with the boy’s recollection of the trunk being delivered to the twins’ home in Patch Run.
“I could go up to the house,” Mirai continued, keeping her voice low enough that the others had to lean close to hear, “and tell Sarys that her sons are still safe and sound in Bakrabru, but busy with the Ard Rhys. The Ard Rhys never said anything about how long they would be gone, so Sarys has no reason to question me. I could say that I’ve come home on an errand for my father and decided to visit long enough to let her know everything is fine. Deliberate lies, but necessary ones. If we do it in daylight, I can entice her out of the house. While we’re visiting, Railing can slip in through the back door, find the key, open the trunk, and have a look.”
There was a long silence. “But you don’t know where the key is.” Skint pointed out to Railing. “You’ll have to hunt for it.”
“You don’t know if the missing journal is in the trunk,” Farshaun added.
“You don’t know if you can read the journal even if it is in the trunk,” Skint continued. “It might be in whatever language Grianne was using in the other one. Old Elfish or whatever. This whole plan sounds like a disaster in the making. Isn’t there a better way?”
“We’re listening, if you know of one,” Woostra snapped back irritably.
Mirai shook her head. “Stop arguing and listen for a minute. There isn’t a better plan. There isn’t even another plan. The facts are simple. Only Railing or I could even approach Sarys without drawing suspicion. The rest of you wouldn’t get through the front door. Since Railing can’t do this, it has to be me. And I wouldn’t be offering at all, believe me, if I didn’t think it was possible. I just have to distract Sarys long enough to give Railing a chance. If he can’t find the journal, then at least we’ve tried.” She looked directly at Railing. “Isn’t this what you want to do?”
He nodded quickly. “I made the decision coming back to the ship. I can risk being disappointed if this doesn’t work out, but not living with myself if I don’t even try.”
“Well, it will take a lot of trying and a lot more luck than skill.” Skint was conceding nothing. “I don’t know how you can manage it.”
“Would it help you if I told you that I know where the key to the trunk is?” Mirai said, cocking one eyebrow.
Skint stared at her for a long moment. “On the other hand, this boy does seem to have more luck than most.” He gave an elaborate shrug. “I suppose we had better give him his chance.”
They lifted off and flew on through the remainder of the night, passing out of the Dragon’s Teeth, across the Mermidon, down the length of the Runne Mountains, and out into the broad sweep of the Rainbow Lake. The skies remained clear and they passed only a handful of other airships as they traveled down the flight corridor that ran from Tyrsis and Varfleet south, easing their way toward their destination.
Railing slept again for a time, at Mirai’s behest, aware that the few hours he had managed so far were not nearly enough to give him the rest he needed. The stress he was feeling by anticipating what lay ahead only added to that he was already experiencing from worrying about his brother. Mirai told him again as she accompanied him belowdecks that they would get Redden back. They would not abandon him; they would not give up on finding him. It didn’t matter what they found in the trunk or what they had to do to find Redden himself. They would get him back safe.
Then she lay next to Railing and snuggled up against him, and both were asleep in seconds.
It was dawn when Skint came down to shake them awake. “We’re there,” he said.
Farshaun was in the pilot box when they came back on deck. He gave them a quick once-over and nodded enigmatically, as if satisfied with what he saw. “We’re just west of Patch Run.” His gaze shifted to Railing. “Your house is farther down the shore, but not far. We’ll land Quickening in one of these coves and lie at anchor while you take a flit the rest of the way.”
The boy and the girl nodded. “I’ll drop Railing off just before the house is in sight. He can walk in and slip around back while I draw Sarys outside.”
“You’ll have to be quick,” Farshaun said. “You won’t have all that much time. Sarys is sharp enough to sniff out a deception if you dawdle.”
Both Railing and Mirai knew this well enough not to have to be told, but they nodded anyway. Timing and stealth would mean everything if Railing was to avoid discovery, and they were aware of what would happen if he were found sneaking into his own house.
Farshaun swung Quickening into a cove only a short distance from the Ohmsford home while still safely out of sight. Once the airship was settled and moored, Austrum rigged one of the flits and with help from the other Rovers released it from its mooring cradle by removing the blocks and ropes that held it fast.
“Remember,” Woostra told the boy as he started after Mirai for the flit. “If you find the journal, bring it with you whether you can read its contents or not. We may have need of it for reference purposes. We don’t want to have to rely on memory if there’s a question later.”
Railing nodded and climbed into the flit, cramming himself into the narrow cockpit behind Mirai. The girl unhooded the parse tube that contained the single diapson crystal powering the tiny craft, and they slowly lifted off into the early-morning light.
They eased their way down the coastline, staying just above the water and below the tips of the trees bordering the shore. Both knew where they were and how far they could go before risking discovery, and so they said nothing as they flew east toward Patch Run.
When Mirai maneuvered the flit into a landing site, Railing was not surprised to find that it was one he had used hundreds of times before, one he would have chosen himself if he had been at the controls. Mirai released the restraining straps that buckled them both in place, and Railing extricated himself from the cockpit and climbed free.
“It’s maybe fifteen, twenty minutes’ walk from here,” he said to her. “Give me a chance to get close to the house before you fly in. When I see you come out with Mother, I’ll go in the back way. Give me as much time as you can.” He paused. “I forgot to ask. Where does Mother keep the key to the trunk? And how do you know this?”
Mirai couldn’t contain her grin. “It’s in the bottom drawer of her nightstand. I gave her a necklace last year that I brought back from one of my trips. A gift. After admiring it, she put it in the nightstand. I was there when she did it. I caught a glimpse of a large iron key at the back of the drawer—perfect for opening a trunk. I’m guessing there’s only one locked trunk in your house?”
He returned the grin. “You are full of surprises.”
She nodded without answering, giving him a wink, and with a parting wave he started off.
He went quickly through the trees, staying back from the shoreline now, wanting to come in from behind his home. The day was warming and sunlight streamed out of the bright, clear sky. He wrinkled his brow in response to the glare. There would be no help from clouds or mist on this day. If he made even the smallest mistake, he would be revealed.