Past the yellow circle of lamplight by the door, the warehouse was dark and cool. It smelled clean and damp, though the floor was dry and scattered with sawdust. The rafters were hidden in darkness, but I could feel the clear space above our heads. Past the shadows of crates and barrels, another light reflected dimly on the far wall.
At first I followed King carefully around bolts of Shou silk. But when we reached the Mulhorandi carvings, he waved me forward without turning around. "Look," he whispered. "Is that Dauna?" I peered through the space between a particularly severe pharaoh and a slender cat goddess. It was Dauna.
They had her tied to a chair, and she slumped in the coils as if she'd exhausted herself with struggling. She wasn't bruised or bleeding anywhere, so I breathed a sigh of relief. The kidnappers wanted a ransom.
We could see three of the kidnappers, two of whom I recognized from our chase that morning. The third was Siward, the young thug Chesley had hired as a handyman last month. Chesley hadn't told us the boy was involved, but we should have guessed. A head taller than me, and perhaps two years older, Siward bullied me when he first arrived at the house. Now I knew that wasn't the limit of his wickedness.
"See there?" whispered King. He pointed to a line of barrels beside Dauna's chair.
I nodded. Then I whispered, "Yes."
"Try to make your way around to free Dauna." He held out a knife, and I took it. I nodded again, turned, and tread as quietly as I could back to the other side. King vanished into the gloom between the crates.
Checking to make sure the hat remained firmly on my head, I crept around a great pile of bagged spices. Some of them tickled my nose, and I pinched it shut. I didn't want to sneeze and accidentally alert the villains. Soon enough, I found a space through which I could crawl close to Dauna.
Poking my head out from between the narrow aisle of barrels, I wasted a few moments trying to attract Dauna's attention with frantic waving. Being invisible was becoming embarrassing. Fortunately, no one could see me making these mistakes.
I looked around and counted Siward and three other men, one of whom we hadn't seen from our earlier vantage. Two of them played at lots, and the one we hadn't seen was trimming his nails with a dagger, while Siward lounged against the wall, trying to look tough and knowing. He stole quick glances at the other men to see if any noticed how dangerous he looked. None of them did.
With each of the kidnappers occupied with his own pursuit, I had no trouble slipping behind Dauna's chair. Being invisible helped, too, I suppose.
"Dauna, it's me, Jame," I whispered softly.
"Jame?" said Dauna. I couldn't blame her. It was taking me some time to get used to the invisibility thing, too.
"What's that?" demanded Siward, rising from his pose to stand directly in front of Dauna. "Did the little bug say something?"
Dauna's the bold one. "I heard a voice," she said. "Must have been the city watch, come to arrest you all." She's never been a great one for stories, though. Good thing, as it turned out.
"Right, and then they'll declare you the princess of Cormyr. Ha! Little bug! I bet your father won't even want you back, you ugly thing. Then we'll have to squash you." I'd never seen nor heard anything as ugly as Siward's laugh then. Dauna would have something sharp to say, I thought. But she screwed up her face and began to sob. I guess that's when I first really hated Siward.
He laughed again and called her "little bug" a few more times. I thought him rather dull for it, but it had a pronounced effect on Dauna, whose sobs turned to a wailing cry. King would make his move soon, I hoped. What was he waiting for?
"Oh, mercy," cried one of the lot players. "Don't get her started again. Get away from her, boy."
"Who are you calling a boy?" challenged Siward. But he went back to his place at the wall. It was then I realized that the fingernail-trimmer was missing. The kidnappers noticed it too.
"Where's Lonny?" asked the other lot player. His opponent shrugged.
"Probably had to see a man about a horse." They laughed at that tired joke. My bet was that King had dispatched the man and was busy tying him up. I used the time to put my hand over Dauna's mouth and whisper again.
"It's Jame, your brother. I'm invisible. Really. I'll let you try it later. But first, I'm going to cut you free. Don't scream or talk to me or anything. All right?" She hadn't bitten my hand yet, and she made a sort of nodding motion, so I let go. Cutting the ropes was quick and easy, but they fell to the floor with a noticeable thump.
"Hey, she's loose!" cried Siward.
Both of the lot players rose from their table, and suddenly King came leaping over the crates behind them. But he'd jumped badly, used to landing on his front paws first. A man's hands aren't quite up to that task, so he went sprawling on the table between two surprised kidnappers.
"Get him!" cried a lot player. The other drew his sword and raised it, preparing to stab King in the back.
"King!" I shouted. "Look out!" By then, Siward was almost on top of Dauna. I grabbed the cap off my head and pushed it over Dauna's curly locks. Siward paused just long enough at my sudden appearance and Dauna's disappearance for me to shout, "Run! You're invisible! Run home to Betha!"
Then Siward was an avalanche upon me.
"You prat!" he screeched, losing all composure. "I'll beat you into pudding!"
I wanted to respond with something clever, but he was quick to make good on his threat. My only response was a series of unintelligible grunts punctuating each of his blows. I looked desperately around for King, hoping he had not only dispatched his enemies, but could also rescue me from Siward.
But King had his own troubles. Both of the kidnappers wielded swords now, two blades to one, and King's back pressed the wall. To his credit, he was a good swordsman, but the weapon seemed awkward in his grip. It had been too long since he had fought like this. Then one of the kidnappers struck him a smart blow to arm, knocking his sword down. Both villains' blades flicked toward his throat.
"On your knees, hero," mocked one of the swordsmen. Siward held me by the collar and turned to look.
King was amazed and uncertain. He hesitated, then slowly knelt, defeat in the old warrior's eyes.
"Down, you cur," ordered the other man. The first grabbed King by the shoulder and pushed him down onto his hands.
"King!" I cried.
He looked over at where I lay beneath Siward's giggling bulk. All three kidnappers laughed mockingly, congratulating each other with glances. King peered across at his dropped sword, his expression hopeless, his head hanging low. He looked utterly defeated.
But then King hunkered down, finding the balance between his hands and feet. He lifted his head slowly. The kidnappers were busy grinning at each other, so I was the only one to see King show his teeth in a smile that would have terrified me had it been cast my direction. The swordsmen didn't see King look up at them, a renewed fire in his eyes. He tensed, ready to spring.
"Rahr!" growled King, lunging at the first kidnapper's leg.
The man shouted in pain and beat ineffectually at his attacker. "He bit me! He bit me!" he repeated in disbelief.
"He's raving mad," shouted the other, raising his sword.
Then they heard King's low, awful growl, and saw King's eyes, his teeth bared and bloody.
"Merciful gods, it's a werewolf!" cried one. Two swords struck the ground at once, and the kidnappers fled so quickly that one of them slammed face first into the statue of the cat goddess, knocking himself senseless. The other ran somewhat farther, screamed, then fell with a great thump. I figured out later that he had stumbled over Lonny, whom he thought to be the unfortunate victim of King, the werewolf.