“You’re going in tonight? Without sleep?”
“Do you think I should wait until morning, Jayet? This is my sister we’re talking about.”
She shook her head. “I suppose not. But maybe a few hours wouldn’t hurt. You haven’t slept at all. What difference would it make if you waited for first light?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t want to find out. I’m going in now.”
They walked on in silence. The streets were still busy, the taverns and pleasure houses still open, but the night was winding down and many of the patrons were hauling their drunken, sated selves home again. One made the mistake of groping for Jayet as she passed, and she hit him so hard with her fist that she knocked him unconscious.
“Hands to yourself!” she hissed at him as they moved past.
Following Grehling’s instructions, they found Dark House in a little under an hour. It was a big, brooding structure situated at the end of a block on one corner, surrounded by stone walls with iron spikes embedded at the top, its windows curtained and shuttered, its lights dimmed to almost nothing. It was black and unfriendly. Paxon and Jayet stood across the street from it and stared.
“I don’t want to find out what goes on in there,” the girl said softly.
“You won’t have to,” Paxon said. “You’re staying out here.”
She kept looking at the building across the road for several seconds. Then she said, “I think you should take me with you. You might need me to distract that guard. You might need me to get in somewhere you can’t. I can’t help you out here.”
“Out here, you’re safe.”
“Out here, I’m useless.”
He gave her a look. “What did I tell you before we set out, when I agreed to let you come along?”
“That I would do what you told me to. And I will. But that doesn’t mean I can’t argue about it. Leaving me behind is a mistake. Think about it. Chrys means something to me, too.”
He remembered the way she had flattened that drunk on their way here, and then imagined a few scenarios where being a woman might prove useful. Keeping Jayet safe was important, but getting Chrys out of Dark House was even more so.
“All right,” he said finally. “But stick close to me and do what I ask you to do.”
She flashed him a smile, her face brightening beneath the mop of white–blond hair. “I promise.”
He wasn’t sure it was a promise she could keep, but she was right about her value to his effort to free Chrys, so he could ill afford to be pessimistic about her conduct. Jayet was smart; she would know what to do once they were inside.
They waited a few minutes longer, watching as a final few customers straggled out the front door of Dark House, then they crossed the road with Jayet hanging on one arm, the two a couple out on the town, but heading home. Once across, he steered her to a wall separating Dark House from a shuttered and empty–looking building situated on the adjoining lot. Off the street now and out of sight, they followed the wall almost to its end before discovering a small wooden door set within the stone. Searching the door, Paxon found the button that released the lock, just as Grehling had told him. The door swung open, and he led Jayet inside.
Now they were standing in a cluster of sad–looking flower gardens that filled the space between the wall and Dark House. Moving straight across the gardens to the building in a crouch, they turned left to find a small window set between two larger banks. Paxon twisted the latch, and the window opened easily. Indicating that Jayet should go first, he boosted her through the opening, then pulled himself up behind her.
They were in a cluttered storage room that appeared to serve as a pantry. At least, that was what they could see by the dim glow cast from the streetlights outside the wall. Paxon moved to the doorway, stood listening for a few moments, cracked the door, and peered out. Then, beckoning for Jayet to follow him, he stepped through into the room beyond.
They were in a kitchen now, but it was empty and dark. They moved through it cautiously, not wanting to bump up against anything. After agonizing seconds of maneuvering in the near dark, they reached a door that opened into a servants’ eating area and from there into a hallway beyond.
Paxon was sweating now, adrenaline rushing through him, his fear and excitement held in precarious balance. He could feel the weight of the Sword of Leah across his back, pressing against him uncomfortably, but it gave him reassurance that, if caught out, he would have a chance to fight his way free. Because Arcannen had been so open about telling Grehling to offer directions, Paxon knew the sorcerer would be ready for him. Somehow, somewhere, he would be waiting. Maybe personally, maybe using magic–but there was little chance Arcannen would be caught off guard.
The best he could hope for was that he could avoid any traps, find his sister, set her free, and maybe get all of them out of there before Arcannen knew what was happening.
It was not a particularly reasonable expectation, but nothing about any of this was reasonable at this point.
He was so deep in thought he almost missed hearing the approach of the roving guard, and only barely managed to flatten himself within the narrow recessed space of a closed doorway before the man appeared. Jayet kept walking, pretending nothing was wrong, that she belonged and was on her way to somewhere specific.
“No walking around after hours,” the guard snapped at her as she reached him. “You know the rules.”
She slowed, moving just past him, causing him to turn so that he was looking away from Paxon. “I must have lost track of time. I was thirsty.”
“There is water in your room. Are you new here?”
She nodded. “Just got in. You’re kind of cute.”
Then Paxon clubbed him from behind, and he dropped like a stone. Jayet slowed the man’s fall enough to muffle any noise, and after trying a few doors found a closet and helped drag him inside. Using cleaning rags, Paxon bound and gagged him and lashed him in place to some iron shelves. Not a perfect solution, but it would have to do.
Leaving the closet, they continued down the hall until they found a set of stairs. They climbed to the next floor and stopped when they heard signs of activity behind the doors of the rooms down the hall. When it was quiet again, they continued up to the top floor. It was an attic space, and there were only three doors: two to either side and one at the end. The last was padlocked and chained.
Paxon moved over to it quickly, put his ear against the door, and listened. No sound came from within.
He exchanged a quick glance with Jayet and shook his head. But it was the only door locked, so there was reason to think it was the right one, and he had to take a look. Which meant he had to smash the lock and break it down. But first he decided to peek inside the other two, just to be sure. He moved over to each as quietly as he could, cracking the doors and peering inside. Bedrooms, both of them, sparsely furnished, walls bare, windows shuttered.
The one on the right was empty.
Chrysallin was in the one on the left.
So was Arcannen.
FOUR
PAXON FROZE, AND FOR AN INSTANT HE WAS UNDECIDED ABOUT what he should do. It had never occurred to him that Arcannen might be with his sister when he found her. She was tied to the bed, spread–eagled and lashed in place, her mouth gagged. Her gaze found his, eyes wide and staring and frightened. She was dressed in the clothes she had been wearing when taken and did not appear to have been harmed.
But appearances could be deceptive, he reminded himself.
Jayet was still outside the room, so he moved to block the entry to hide her from Arcannen. He was trying to think of something to say to warn her when the sorcerer saved him the trouble.