"Oh, we know, dear boy. We know." She hugged me again, and that was the last I could speak for a while.
"Mistress Betha, I'm here to investigate Dauna's kidnapping."
"And by whose authority are you here, sir?" Chesley appeared from the dining room. He was all narrow lines and livery. Our family didn't have a livery, but Chesley insisted on wearing one all the same. Livery and uniforms were as important to him as protocol and etiquette.
"I serve Ambassador Carrague, of the Ministry of Art," said King proudly. He raised his chin. If he had been a dog, his hackles would have risen. I couldn't blame him.
"I'm afraid I don't understand why the Ministry of Art is involved in a matter for the watch," sniffed Chesley.
"I was at hand," sniffed King. Unlike Chesley, though, he was really sniffing. He walked right up to Chesley and kept on sniffing, leaning forward to get a good whiff. Chesley was unprepared for that.
"Wha-Whatever are you doing?" stammered the steward.
If I'd had any breath left, I'd have lost it all again in laughter.
"Where were you when Dauna was kidnapped?" demanded King. Chesley wasn't used to having the tables turned in that direction.
"Why, I-why, I was at market."
"Then why in the world did you send me to market this morning?" demanded Betha indignantly. "I could have finished all that washing you insisted on having this afternoon."
King kept sniffing at Chesley, moving down from his thinning hair to his narrow shoulders, and farther down. "Well?" said King.
"As if it matters!" protested Chesley, pushing away at King, who seemed oblivious to the impropriety of his own behavior. "If you must know, I had to replace a bottle of the master's wine, which I had carelessly broken this morning."
"Hmm," said King.
"Hmm?" said Chesley.
"I don't smell any wine on you."
"Of course you don't, you nonsensical fool! I changed clothes."
"Doesn't matter," said King.
"Don't be ridiculous," protested Chesley.
Even I knew something was wrong, now.
"And you're afraid of these questions. You're sweating fear."
"I've had quite enough of this bullying," said Chesley, drawing himself to his most imperious height. "It is true that I didn't believe the boy's story this morning, but that's because he is a proven lia-"
"It's because you know where Dauna is," interrupted King, rising up to tower over even the tall steward. "I can smell it." King showed his teeth and growled.
In the years since then, I've learned that when men smile, they're talking without words. Sometimes it's as simple as, "that's funny" or "what a beautiful woman you are." Some smiles say, "I don't know what else to say, so I'll smile." Yet others say, "You're a miserable, stupid troll, but I can't say that, so I'll smile." King's smile said, "I'm about to clamp my teeth down on your throat if you don't talk." Chesley, to his credit, understood King's smile exactly.
"It wasn't my idea! I didn't want the money! They threatened me!"
Now we all knew he was lying. It wasn't hard to get the rest out of him, especially once Betha reached up and grabbed him by his skinny throat.
"What have you done with that darling girl?" she roared. King and I both moved quickly away from her. Even a fierce one like King knows who's the bigger dog.
It took her very little time to get Chesley's story.
"There," said King. He looked all silver in the moonlight-hair, eyes, and hands. He pointed to the warm glow of a lantern. The light spilled out of a flimsy warehouse door, making a silhouette of the guard sitting there, carelessly leaning back on two chair legs.
"That's father's warehouse," I said. "The one he rents for the goods he buys overseas. Why would they take her there?"
"Probably because that's the last place we'd think to look, Jame." I thought King was incredibly smart, even for a man.
"Now, listen. You won't be any help if you let those men get their hands on you, too." King took me by the shoulder and tugged the feathered cap out from my belt. He put it on my head and pulled it snugly down. I could tell by his eyes that I was invisible again.
"Keep this on. Once we're in, you look for Dauna. Getting her out of there is your job. I'll keep the kidnappers busy."
I nodded, but he kept looking toward me as if I hadn't. "Oh, I mean yes," I said. Being invisible was tricky business.
"Here we go," said King. He turned and loped toward the door, crouching low to stay in the shadows. He got within five feet of the watchman before his scabbard struck the ground and made a terrible scrape against the stone walk.
"What's that?" said the watchman. "Who's here?" He rose from his chair with a clatter, and I was sure he'd shout before King could stop him. But King was a dark blur, rushing up to slam the open door right in the watchman's face. The surprised man dropped like a sack of flour.
"Hsst! You there, Jame?" King whispered. I hurried to catch up.
"Right behind you."
"Listen." We listened for a moment. Voices floated up from the dark interior of the warehouse, but they sounded conversational. King nodded an all clear, then lifted the fallen watchman back into his chair. Tilting him carefully back, King left the man looking every bit as watchful as he'd been before. We entered the warehouse.
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.