"Toret took my meager wealth, for all you saw that he owned in Bela. I am the only heir of the Andraso, but the dead don't inherit from the dead. And even if … I doubt I would be recognized by the nobility."
"Well, if I muck up my next idea," Wynn said, "you might at least have someplace to run when I end up in a Calm Seatt prison."
Chane's eyes narrowed. "What are you up to now?"
"In a moment," she said, glancing at Shade.
Shade had finished supper and was trying to lick the last taste from the bowl. Wynn snapped her fingers, and Shade raised her head. With one hopeful look at the bowl, the dog padded over to butt Wynn's hand with her snout.
Wynn slid her fingers over Shade's head and closed her eyes, passing memories of Duchess Reine. She followed this with bits and pieces of the dripping corridor that she could remember—the one leading to the chamber with the iron grate half-submerged in a pool of seawater.
Shade echoed the image back, and much more clearly.
"I'm seeing through Reine's memory, through her eyes," Wynn said quietly for Chane. "She is down so deep the walls are constantly damp and glistening, and the only light I've noticed is the glow of minerals coating the walls."
She began describing all she'd seen: how Reine had gone to the chamber with the pool, how it was locked, and about the side chamber Reine had never entered. She most carefully described the half-filled dark tunnel that stretched outward beyond the iron grate.
Wynn kept her eyes closed, focusing on sharp details that Shade provided. She felt the bed's stiff, padded layers flex as Chane shifted even closer.
"A pool filled with seawater … from a tunnel?" he asked quietly, but his voice was filled with urgency. "Fresh seawater?"
Wynn let herself sink deeper into Shade's stolen memory. She breathed in as if she were Reine within that moment, and the scent of brine filled her nostrils.
"I think so. The water seems clear and clean, not fetid, though its too dim in the chamber to be certain. It just smells like the sea. Strangely, though the chamber itself is damp, it doesn't smell moldy."
With her eyes still closed, she asked, "Do you understand what I'm thinking?"
Chane didn't answer, and Shade moved forward through the memory.
So deep inside Reine's recollection, Wynn felt sudden anguish. Again she heard something move in the dark side chamber, as before. She opened her eyes, still holding Shade.
"Clever girl," she murmured, and then turned to Chane. "This place that the duchess went to … it must be in the Stonewalkers' underworld."
"Another guess," he countered, but he rose and began pacing the room. "Wherever it is, the tunnel may connect to the open sea … and the shore."
For comfort's sake, he'd undressed down to breeches and a white shirt once they'd returned. How he could stand barefoot on the cold floor was beyond her. His feet were so pale … paler than his face and hands.
"We have to find that outside entrance," she said flatly.
Chane shook his head. "If the chamber is in the underworld, I hardly think these Stonewalkers would provide easy access. The tunnel might not be large enough—"
"Then why a grated opening into the pool?" she asked. "One obviously large enough to pass through, though it's blocked."
"The entrance could just as easily be underwater. We do not know for certain where below this massive mountain to find such a—"
"Oh, stop it!" she chided. "I know that you know we're going to try anyway. And … you want to."
Chane fell silent. Finally, he replied, "With all the insurmountable obstacles so far, we should not expect this pursuit to be any better."
Wynn merely waited—until he sighed. For the first time, she noted how odd that was, considering the dead didn't need to breathe.
"Clearly the duchess is a liaison between the royals and Stonewalkers," he said, "as well as between the royals and the guild. It reasons that she also fulfills the third side of that triangle—at least in relation to the texts. We cannot afford to lose track of her if this new endeavor comes to nothing. You stay here and keep watch on her."
Wynn jumped to her feet.
"You mean you can move faster without me," she accused. "Or you're worried it might be dangerous, and I should keep out of the way."
A flash of guilt on his long, clean features confirmed both.
"It will take some time," he added. "If I find something, I will return and take you—"
"This is my purpose, Chane," Wynn cut in. "I left the guild because I was sick of taking orders from people who thought they knew better … and didn't!"
Chane's lips parted, but Wynn kept at him.
"You may be more aware than they are, but that doesn't mean you understand as much as I do—and I don't take orders from you, either!"
"Fine. Then you decide," he returned. "But one of us needs to stay—and watch the duchess."
Wynn turned away, still angry, but only because he was right. "People died in Calm Seatt," she said, "because I was … obedient … and didn't resist until too late."
She heard him step closer, and his voiceless whisper softened.
"You know this part of the world. I do not. For what little success we have had, your instincts have often been better."
Wynn glanced at him, already hearing a "but" coming, though she knew the right decision.
"I have the better senses," he added, "sight and scent … and hearing. But I would have the harder time following the duchess, considering I tower over everyone here."
"All right," Wynn relented, "but take Shade. She has the more acute sense of smell where older scents are concerned. Two can search more quickly than one."
For an instant she thought he would argue, likely thinking she would be left unprotected. Perhaps her fixed stare made him think better of saying so.
"Can you make Shade understand?" he asked. "Make her leave you and go with me?"
"I'll try."
Chane left to gather his things, and Wynn dropped before Shade, touching the dog's face.
She began with memories of Leesil and Chap traveling together. She then turned to their own trials in Calm Seatt, before battling the wraith, when she had left Shade in Chane's company.
Shade snarled and pulled away, and Wynn had to grab her neck.
Wynn raised the image of the chamber and its pool. Working with a memory that had come to her thirdhand was difficult. She tried to focus upon the water-filled tunnel beyond the grate.
The door opened, and Chane stood in the hallway fully dressed and armed. Reaching around the door, he set the old tin scroll case on the side table, leaving it in Wynn's care.
Wynn lifted Shade's muzzle and pointed at Chane.
Shade snarled again. Instead of pulling away, this time she dropped to her haunches, grinding her foreclaws on stone.
Wynn held Shade's face and tried again.
"Please understand," she said.
Shade growled, but it quickly turned to a soft whine. She peered at Chane, swung her nose back to Wynn, and then pulled away. Shade trotted toward the door, and Chane outside. Wynn sighed in relief.
Shade swerved suddenly and headed straight for the sun-crystal staff leaning against the wall.
Before Wynn could get up, the dog rose on hind legs, forelegs braced on the wall. She clamped her jaws on the staff as high as she could reach.
"Shade?" Wynn called. "Shade … stop that!"
Shade twisted off the wall. The instant her paws landed, she trotted off, dragging the staff behind the bed's far side.
Wynn clambered across the bed, reaching for the staff. Shade dropped it, planting both huge forepaws atop its haft.
"What is wrong with you?" Wynn demanded, grabbing for the staff.
She jerked it from under Shade's paws and backed across the bed. Before she got halfway, Shade clamped its haft with her teeth and heaved.