Olive placed a hoof down on the train of Julia’s gown. The woman tripped as she stepped toward Giogi and dropped to her knees on the pine needles. “Damned creature,” she whispered.
Giogi turned around and looked at his kneeling cousin with surprise. Before he could help Julia to her feet, though, Olive managed to tangle her lead rope around the woman and butt her again. Without thinking, Julia slashed at the burro with her right hand. Olive felt a sharp scratch on her neck, then a fire burned through her blood, starting at the wound and racing to her extremities. Her knees wobbled and Olive sank to the ground.
“Birdie!” Giogi gasped. “What’s wrong, girl?”
“That beast attacked me!” Julia cried, untangling herself from Olive’s lead rope, leaping to her feet, and backing away quickly.
“She was probably just playing. Julia, what did you do to her?”
Olive stretched her neck out so Giogi couldn’t miss the small trickle of blood from her wound.
The young noble gasped. He turned toward Julia and snatched at her cloak, yanking her toward him. He caught her by the wrists. All the meekness he’d ever felt in his female cousin’s company was dispelled by the alarm he felt for his pet’s safety.
He investigated Julia’s rings with a frown. “What is this?” he demanded, spying the ring with the jabber. “Where did you get this ring? How could you poison such a sweet, little animal?”
“It’s not poison, only sleeping sap,” Julia protested.
Thank Tymora, Olive thought through the fog. That’ll teach me to stick my neck out for anyone.
Barely containing his anger, Giogi yanked the offending ring off Julia’s finger. “I think I’d better hang on to this for you before you hurt someone with it,” the nobleman said, pulling out a handkerchief, wrapping the ring up in it, and stuffing it into a pocket. He thrust Julia away and bent over Olive’s prone body. Pulling two vials out of a pack on her back, he poured the contents of one over Olive’s cut and the other down her throat.
“Why are you wasting potions on that stupid creature?” Julia asked.
“Because she’s not a stupid creature. She’s a perfectly lovely burro.”
“I told you it was only sleeping sap.”
“Sleeping sap can do a lot of damage if you use too much. What were you doing with it, anyway?”
Julia did not reply.
Olive felt suddenly cool and strong as the potions quenched the flame that ran through her body. She stumbled to her feet with Giogi’s help. The young noble made sure the burro was steady, then turned again to face his cousin. Olive could see a spark of comprehension gleaming in his milky brown eyes.
“Julia!” Giogi barked sternly. Olive stood by his side, trying to look as menacing as possible. “You meant that ring for me, didn’t you? This is one of Steele’s ideas, isn’t it?” Giogi asked, grabbing Julia by the shoulders and giving her a firm shake.
“No!” Julia protested. “It’s … just something I carry to protect myself.”
“Attacked by a lot of burros on the streets of Immersea, eh? Don’t bother to lie, Julia. You always did what Steele told you. What did he have in mind?” he asked hotly. “Leave me down there with the guardian again? Hmm?” Giogi gave his cousin another shake.
“You are a fool,” Julia said. “Steele isn’t interested in child’s play anymore. He wants—” Julia bit off her words and paled visibly, obviously afraid she’d said too much.
“What does he want?” Giogi demanded.
Julia shook her head. “I can’t tell you,” she insisted. “Steele would be furious.”
“You will tell me,” Giogi said, shaking her harder.
“You’re hurting me,” Julia whined.
Giogi released his cousin suddenly, ashamed of bullying a woman, and so young a woman as Julia. I have to know what Steele’s planning, though, he thought.
“Julia,” he said, trying to reason calmly with the woman, “I won’t tell Steele that you told me anything. Now, what’s his game?”
“Why should I tell you?” Julia asked haughtily.
“If you don’t tell me, I’ll—” Giogi hesitated. He wasn’t sure what he could do to threaten Julia.
“Run and tattle to Aunt Dorath,” Julia taunted, “like you always did when we were children.”
Did I? Giogi wondered. Yes, I suppose I did, but only because Steele and Julia were such naughty children. He looked at Julia with annoyance. “Yes,” he said. “That’s exactly what I’ll do. I’m sure she’ll be very disturbed to hear that her grandniece was running around with an assassin’s ring. I’ll give her the ring so she can have Lord Sudacar check that it’s not poisoned.”
“No! Don’t tell!” Julia begged, obviously more anxious to avoid Aunt Dorath’s wrath than she’d been as a child.
“Then spit it out, woman,” Giogi demanded. “Everything.”
“Steele wants to find the wyvern’s spur without you,” Julia explained, “so he can keep it for himself. He wants the power.”
“Power? What power?” Giogi asked, surprised that Steele and Julia would know something about the spur that not even Uncle Drone could tell him.
“Steele doesn’t know what the spur’s power is yet,” Julia said, “but when he gets hold of the spur, he’ll find out.”
Giogi laughed. “Steele’s going to be in for a big disappointment if he finds the spur,” he predicted, shaking his head sagely. “It’s nothing but a hunk of junk.”
“That’s not what Uncle Drone said last night.”
“Julia, I love Uncle Drone like—like an uncle, but you may have noticed that he’s not all together up here,” Giogi said, tapping his forehead. “The stairs run to the top of the tower, but there are no landings, don’t you know.”
Julia stood defiantly before him with her hands on her hips. “The spur does so have some power,” she insisted. “That’s why Cole took it with him whenever he went tramping around the country like a commoner.”
“My father? What are you talking about? The spur’s been in the crypt since Paton Wyvernspur died.”
Julia shook her head vehemently. “No, it hasn’t. Your father used to steal it whenever he wanted to use it. He was Uncle Drone’s favorite, so the old fool never told anyone. No one found out about it until Cole died. Uncle Drone was forced to tell the family, because, otherwise, they wouldn’t have gone to so much trouble to bring back his remains. Cole was wearing the spur when he died.”
“Wearing it?!” Giogi asked incredulously.
“It’s true,” Julia said with a scornful sniff.
“Why hasn’t anyone ever told me any of this?”
“Aunt Dorath said that she would never have approved of your father using the spur if she had known, and no one would ever use it again. We children weren’t to be told about it.”
“Then how did you find out?”
Julia hesitated for a moment, then saw the look in Giogi’s eyes.
“Steele and I were listening at the keyhole when she explained all this to our father.”
Just what I would expect from a sneaking little witch like you, Olive thought.
Giogi shook his head, trying to reconcile Julia’s story with his own memories. Whenever Giogi tried to picture his father, though, Cole always looked like his portrait, which hung in Giogi’s bedroom—a portrait that could have been interchanged with nearly every other portrait of Wyvernspur menfolk, including the painting hanging in the carriage house. All Giogi could remember clearly was a tall man who’d tried to teach him to ride, took him swimming, and loved to sing.
The nobleman sighed. Everyone in the Realms except me knew that my father was an adventurer. Most of the members of my family knew he used the spur, but I didn’t. Maybe I should have tried listening at a few keyholes. Giogi turned back to the mausoleum, unlocked the door, and pushed it open.