The gambler tried to bound to his feet only to be pulled backward by the chair and his guards. “This is a frame-up! All of you are trying to prove I’m guilty to cover your own failings.”
For a blink of an eye, Ulin hesitated, slowed by a flash of doubt. Could it be possible that Kethril was right? The city council had never proved they’d had the money. What if they had blown their own treasury to hide that fact and then tried to pin it on an innocent man? After all, they had lied to Lucy several times, manipulating her into the position of sheriff and Ulin into finding Kethril Torkay. They “lost” the body of the alleged thief, hidden information from Lucy, and, except for the very real presence of Fyremantle, had proved none of their tale through anything except circumstantial evidence. What if Kethril was right?
Then Notwen said in his matter-of-fact voice, “Actually, we saw you in the Oracle Glass.”
The energy seemed to drain from Kethril Torkay before their eyes. He sagged back into his chair. “You went to see Janira?” he said softly.
Notwen nodded. Ulin watched the gnome in amused respect. He never thought Notwen would try a bluff. Technically, they hadn’t seen the image of Kethril, nor was it as specific as Notwen inferred. But if Kethril knew the red-haired woman as well as she hinted, perhaps he believed in the power of her oracle and would fall for the gnome’s small trap.
Lucy walked to Kethril, put her hands on the arms of the chair, and looked into his face. “Where’s the money? If you give it back so they can pay the dragon, I’m sure we can negotiate a fairer punishment than the noose.”
A heavy quiet settled into the common room. The fire crackled softly in the fireplace. A sea wind moaned around the roofline outside. Someone’s chair creaked when its occupant shifted slightly in the seat. Kethril sat so still that he seemed made of clay. His fingers were wrapped around one another and his handsome face looked gray.
“It’s gone,” he said at last. “I spent it.”
The words fell heavily in the silence then burst a dam of words that crashed through the room like a tidal wave. People leaped to their feet, gesticulating and shouting.
“Hang him!” Aylesworthy shouted furiously.
“Burn him at the stake!” cried the blacksmith.
“Feed him to Fyremantle! Maybe the dragon will sicken and die!”
“Do you realize what you have done?” Saorsha said to Kethril. “Fyremantle will level this town.”
Ulin moved swiftly to put himself between the prisoner and the furious Flotsamites. Lucy and the mayor gradually quieted the group and had everyone resume their seats.
Saorsha covered her face. “What do we do now?” she moaned.
“Does he know about the tunnels?” Notwen asked worriedly.
Master Aylesworthy replied, “We don’t think so, but it won’t do us much good if everything in the town is in little bits.”
Lucy looked around at the speakers. “What tunnels?”
“There is a system of tunnels and saferooms under the town where everyone goes when the dragons come,” Ulin told her.
Challie said sadly, “That’s where Pease said he was taking me.”
Lucy crossed her arms and looked disgusted. “Nice. Were you planning to tell me? Your hired sheriff?” She snorted indelicately. “Tell me again, why did you hire me?”
“For the reasons we told you,” Saorsha replied. “After the money disappeared and Fyremantle ate Sheriff Gorlain, the three of us were terrified. We had no idea how to find that much treasure. We don’t have that kind of money ourselves. So we have been collecting what we can and … I guess we hoped something would happen or someone would come who could help us with this. When you appeared with your magic and your courage and your willingness to help, we thought you were the answer to our prayers.”
“So why didn’t you tell me about all of this in the beginning?”
The old mayor lifted his hands in a small gesture. “Would you have taken the job? No, of course not. No one in their right mind would have. We were hoping that if you worked in the town for a while, you would learn to like Flotsam and its people. This place is rough and gets a little wild sometimes, but there are good people here and they need help.”
“We were going to tell you about the tunnels as soon as Ulin returned,” Aylesworthy explained, “because we don’t want you to leave us. Not yet. We have seen how well you two work together. Now that we know Torkay can’t help, you two are our only hope.”
Lucy said nothing for a moment while she studied the people in front of her. A loud voice in her mind told her to quit, to pack up and go home. Her father had been found, and her mother did not need to worry about a burial. The quest had been successful. She and Ulin could go home and resume their lives.
Not quite, said another voice in her heart. Her own personal quest was not complete. She had taken this job for reasons of her own, and the job was not yet finished.
But they lied to you, argued the first voice.
Only partially, the second voice came back. They were trying to protect their town.
And none of that changed the fact that she still wanted to do something useful. She had to admit, too, that the council’s tactic of letting her get to know Flotsam had been partially successful. While she would never want to live here, Flotsam was beginning to grow on her-kind of like a fungus. She did like the people … and they had more to fear from Fyremantle than she.
This is a red dragon they’re talking about, insisted the first voice, the nastiest, cruelest, most greedy of dragons. What do you know about fighting dragons?
Who said we had to fight it? Surely there is some way to meet its demands, or better yet, just get rid of it, said the voice of her heart.
Saorsha rose slowly to her feet. “Lucy, I don’t know how to apologize enough for our lies. We handled this badly. We didn’t mean you any harm. We just didn’t know what to do. I guess we were hoping you could give us a solution and leave before anyone got hurt. Not terribly realistic, is it?”
“No,” Lucy replied, her tone wry. “Do you have any plans at all to satisfy this dragon?”
Aylesworthy answered, “We have collected part of the tribute, but it won’t be enough. Fyremantle said he will count every coin.”
“So, you either need to find the full amount of the treasure and pay off the dragon until the next time he decides to blackmail you, or you need to figure out a way to prevent him from doing this again.” Lucy stated.
“In eleven days,” Saorsha added.
“Lucy,” Kethril said at last. “I might have an idea that will help.”
“You?” she sneered. “Why would you help? Why would you do something like this in the first place?”
He looked down at his lap, at the worn, dirty fabric of his once-fine Khurish robes. “I needed the money for a venture.”
“What venture?” Lucy snapped. “What sort of venture is worth endangering an entire town?”
He did not look up. “I did not give it that much thought, to be honest. Possible consequences to other people are not something I include in my calculations.”
“Of all the half-cocked, stupid-” someone started to say.
Lucy cut the speaker off with a sharp gesture. “Well, maybe it’s time you start thinking about it,” she said in a voice of steel. “Because I will suggest to the city council that they stake you out beside the empty boxes and leave you to explain to Fyremantle.”
Kethril blanched. “If I can help you, will the council agree to release me?”
Lucy glanced around at the elders of the city. For the first time in days she saw a gleam of hope in their faces. “Yes.”
“But how can we trust him after what he did?” Lysandros asked.
“Release him to my custody,” Ulin answered. “I have already given my word to protect him and my promise of what I will do if he tries to flee.”