Step by step, the plan was straightforward... in theory.
"It will work," she repeated.
Chane sighed.
"How did you and Shade and this domin leave the guild after dark?"
"Out the front gates," she said. "The city guards weren't there... or maybe they were late."
A long, low whistle pierced the air, cutting off any more questions. It took Wynn by surprise, and she couldn't tell where it came from.
"He is ready," Chane whispered, and pointed toward a small shop half a block beyond the Upright Quill and on the street's far side.
Wynn crept around Chane. Holding her palm before Shade's nose and pointing to Chane, she whispered, "Hold... Attack with him."
Shade merely rumbled and pushed Wynn's hand away with her nose. Wynn pushed on Shade's snout, and the dog held her place.
Chane gazed across the night street over Wynn's shoulder. "No matter what happens, do not trust everything il'Snke says. I do not think... feel... that he speaks the full truth."
Wynn glanced back. "What do you mean?"
Chane's expression appeared to change, though it was hard to be certain in the dark. Whatever faint color remained in his eyes suddenly drained away. Only the crystalline irises of an undead stared out into the night... toward the place from which il'Snke had whistled.
Wynn shivered, but not from the chill air.
In that instant Chane looked like the mad feral monks who had come with him and Welstiel to Li'kn's ice-bound castle.
"Omission can hide the truth... or a lie," Chane added.
Rodian took supper alone in his office, not caring for even Garrogh's company. He wanted solitude and time to think.
The pieces of this tangled intrigue were disintegrating, and he saw no way to keep them whole. Il'Snke was the murdererof that much he felt certain. The domin was the only one who fit all the criteria of ability and inside knowledge. But Rodian had no proof.
What was that man after in the translated pages? What was his motive?
Suddenly Rodian regretted his poor treatment of Wynn, regardless of her nave outburst. Clearly that had been brought on by Nikolas's delusional account of events.
Rodian looked down at his half-eaten beef, potatoes, onions, and carrots, then lifted his gaze to the growing pile of reports on his desk. Petty thefts, one other yet-to-be-solved murder, and a handful of social disputes required his attention. He'd let everything sit while trying to solve these guild murders and thefts. And with royals and sages standing in his way at every turn, all he had left were his other poorly attended dutiesand his failure. Still, he couldn't let it go.
He knew exactly who the killer was, but where could he find proof?
There was only one answerWynn Hygeorht.
She'd been studying the translations for two days. She must have learned something, at least a hint of what had been stolen. If so, how could he get her to tell him even that little?
He wouldn't pretend to understand this odd and troublesome little journeyor, but she seemed genuinely driven to protect her guild. Perhaps, like her superiors, she was taking matters too secretly into her own hands. Would she still do so if she uncovered something concerning il'Snke?
Would she give up her juvenile notions of ghosts and the undead?
Rodian got up and strode for the door. Pulling it open, he lifted his sword hanging upon a coat peg.
"Lcan!" he shouted into the passageway.
But it was Garrogh who finally ducked around the door.
"Sorry, sir, I've got Lcan watching the guild's gatehouse tonight."
Rodian nodded. So far the only report was of Wynn's strange wolf coming back after darkafter escorting one of Pawl a'Seatt's scribes who'd worked too late. Otherwise none of his men had seen anyone come or go past dusk.
He grasped his cloak. "Have these dishes removed and get Snowbird saddled."
"Where are you off to?" Garrogh asked bluntly.
"The guild," he answered.
"I'm coming with you."
Rodian stiffened. "Pardon?"
"You're not yourself," Garrogh said, crossing his arms. "This sage nonsense has you turned around like a dog that won't stop biting its tail. The men want their captain back, so I'm coming with you, before you bite your tail straight off... sir."
Rodian was struck mute. He heated up, ready to put Garrogh in his place. Then he remembered the stacks of reports lying upon his desk and suddenly felt weary. Duty wasn't the only thing he'd ignored, if his second now openly faced him down.
"All right," he agreed. "But when we get there, wait for me in the courtyard. I need to talk to that journeyor again. She's... odd, and might speak only to me."
"Of course, sir."
Together they headed for the stables, saddled their horses themselves, and rode out.
As always, Garrogh's big bay protested at being forced out into the cold. The horse clomped angrily, throwing his head and grinding his bit.
"Next time you requisition a horse, I'll pick it for you," Rodian chided.
"Just 'cause you like them dain" lia hty doesn't mean I do," Garrogh returned.
"She could run yours into the ground."
Garrogh's brush with near-insubordination had roused Rodian. Along with other matters, he'd forgotten how sensible and aware his lieutenant truly was. And it felt better to do anything but sit and stew. Perhaps Wynn had discovered something that would help him prove the truth, so long as she spoke no more of her deluded beliefs. This murderer was not some undead of folk superstition. Then he might gain legitimate means to get a grip on il'Snke. Not even the royal family would be able to deny him.
Soon Rodian and Garrogh approached the guild's half-open bailey gate. It was never bolted and barred, but it still bothered him that it stood ajar. He looked up the path to the gatehouse's closed portcullis.
There was no one out front on post.
"Where's Lcan?" Rodian growled. "And who is on watch with him?" Garrogh looked about. "I don't know... Ulwald was paired with him. I've got two other pairs walking circuit around the place. Two more are off duty in the gatehouse above, waiting to rotate with others throughout the night."
Rodian urged Snowbird into a trot all the way to the portcullis.
"Open it up!" he shouted.
One of his men shouted acknowledgment from above, and the portcullis began to rise. Rodian ducked, prepared to ride under before it was fully raised.
"Captain?"
He sat back up, reining in Snowbird. Lcan and Ulwald came at a trot through the inner bailey.
"What are you doing off post?" Garrogh barked.
Lcan halted, eyes shifting between the lieutenant and Rodian.
"We heard something in the trees, around the west tower," Ulwald answered.
"You heard something?" Rodian mimicked. "What?"
"Not sure, sir," Lcan answered. "Something large breaking through the brush and branches."
At Rodian's shifted glance, Ulwald nodded agreement.
"Then one of you goes alone!" Rodian shouted. "Or you get whoever's off duty above to watch while you both check."
"You had to have heard it, Captain," Lcan exclaimed. "Others have. Gael heard something the other night and"
"No post is left unwatched!"
Both men stiffened, whether in resentment or fear at the rebuke, it wasn't clear.
"Yes, Captain," they answered, but Lcan glanced toward Garrogh.
"I'll handle this," Garrogh said. "You go on... find that nosy little sage."
Rodian took a slow breath. He wasn't the only one under pressureor had he passed on his own duress to his men? They wouldn't have left their post together without some real concern. He dismounted, handed Snowbird off to Garrogh, and walked the rest of the way in.
When he reached the main doors, he knocked and waited this time, though his patience had worn paper-thin. The young apprentice who'd led him to the hospice yesterday peered out.