Magiere fought down frustration. What could he possibly see here that was of any use? As they reached the doors, Magiere heard footsteps behind. She stopped and turned halfway about.
Darmouth headed for a side corridor with his Mondyalitko lackeys dogging his heels.
"You should hear my fee," she called out, "before offering to double it."
He didn't even glance back as he disappeared into the corridor.
CHAPTER TEN
Leesil trudged up the inn's stairs with a quiver of quarrels, two flasks of oil, and a wadded-up old towel he'd found in the kitchen. He opened his room's door to find his companions sitting on the floor around the elvish talking hide.
Magiere's expression was impossible to read. It could've been disappointment, anger, concern, or a mix of things Leesil couldn't guess- didn't want to guess. She hadn't said a word about it, though he couldn't remember how he'd gotten back into the bed. He'd no time for shame over what he'd done last night. At least he had slept. Neither memory of Progae nor a young Hedi disturbed him for a short while.
"There isn't any garlic," he said, and laid down the quarrels. "And it's too late in the season to bet on finding any at the market, but I have options we can try."
"Sit," Magiere said, and slid over where she sat leaning against the bed.
She was dressed as "the hunter" with her black hair tied back in a thong. Two lanterns and several candles sent crisscrosses of warm light over her, setting off the bloodred glints in her locks. He'd always liked her hair.
But she was so composed. Magiere dealt with conflict in two ways: head-on in open outrage or with icy disregard that anything had happened. He wasn't certain how to interpret her new quiet watchfulness.
Leesil dropped down beside her, and his stomach lurched as if suddenly turned inside out. His body was no longer conditioned for nipping himself to sleep, let alone drowning himself into oblivion.
They'd managed to keep up idle conversation in front of Byrd after Magiere's return, and now they finally had privacy. Leesil's own feelings were mixed. Although desperate for any scrap of information regarding his parents' fate, he was still angry that Magiere, Wynn, and Chap had ignored his insistence to stay clear of Darmouth. Having to remain in hiding wasn't helping. The others did his work and took all the risks.
"We did not get far," Wynn said, "only the courtyard, entryway, and the council hall. There was a meal hall across the way, and a center stairway upward, with corridors at the base going both directions behind the halls."
"You were right," Magiere added, still studying Leesil. "We won't learn anything from Darmouth. But this lieutenant-Omasta-might be of some use."
"No!" Leesil said too sharply, and his head throbbed for it. "Don't trust anyone in Darmouth's company. He holds something over each of them, or he'd never let them near him. This Omasta will act for his own preservation, and you won't know it until he's already betrayed you."
A hint of Magiere's belligerent side filled her expression. Before she could argue, Chap barked and thumped a paw on the hide.
"What?" Leesil asked.
Wynn mumbled as she followed Chap's paw. "He says 'three' and 'speculation' or 'guess'. Guesses for what?"
"For why my parents ran into the keep," Leesil answered.
Wynn watched Chap's pawing and wrinkled her nose with a frown. "This is difficult. The closest Belaskian would be 'a thing for coercion'. Perhaps your parents sought something to force Darmouth to spare their lives?"
Leesil nodded, his thoughts beginning to clear. "But what? Darmouth has committed unspeakable acts for decades… and everyone knows he is responsible, one way or another. What could they have gone after that he would fear being revealed?"
Chap pawed again, and Wynn waited for him to finish. "The next possibility is 'escape' and…" She pursed her lips and sighed in frustration. "The best translation is 'path'. Escape path?"
"The keep is surrounded by a lake," Magiere said. "Are you sure you're catching his meaning?"
"Of course I am," Wynn retorted. "It is just not making sense. Chap's dialect does not match my Elvish, and some concepts do not translate well into other tongues."
Leesil cringed, adding another spike to his splitting headache as he waited for Magiere's irritable response. She simply raised her hands in resignation.
Wynn sighed and watched Chap spelling out Elvish, but this time she sat upright, tense. She wouldn't look at Leesil when she spoke.
"Last option-they tried to kill Darmouth themselves. I suppose this makes sense. If he were dead, others might hesitate, free of his influence, and your parents might be able to flee Venjetz."
No one spoke for a moment.
When Leesil first fled the city in youth, the province was stable. There was little hint of outside threat beyond its borders, and he'd served well to uproot any insurrection from within. He suspected his mother might have considered this third option, but his father would've counseled for the least risk. The coercion option would be Gavril's choice.
Leesil shook his head. "I don't see it. My parents gauged their actions quickly, and assassination on the spur of the moment is higher-risk than the other possibilities."
"Oh, wait," Wynn said, as Chap continued. "He says there were men down the corridors near the main floor, and they were not there before…" She stopped to scowl suspiciously at the dog. "How could you possibly know that? We were not close enough to-"
Chap bobbed his muzzle in the air, sniffing and snorting loudly.
"No, you could not," Wynn argued back. "The place reeked of men and sweat and food and a smoky fire. You could not smell people down those back corridors."
"I think we'll trust his nose more than yours," Magiere said. "What's this about 'before'?"
Wynn appeared only half-satisfied as she watched Chap's reply. "He says there are doors at the corridors' ends, and they lead to passages to the lower level, but there were… When did you go down there?"
Chap continued pawing at the hide.
"He was there once with Gavril," Wynn translated. "But there were men, probably soldiers, down both corridors today."
Leesil closed his eyes. These speculations were going nowhere. He found some comfort that his companions worked so hard to ask questions and consider any possible answers. The four of them had puzzled out parts of Magiere's past in the same manner, but this time they had too little to work with.
When he opened his eyes, Magiere was watching him. She no longer bothered with quick glances when she thought he wasn't aware.
She stood up, grabbed a lantern from the floor, and placed it up on the table. "It's getting dark. If we want to keep our welcome at the keep, then we have a hunt to begin."
Relief took the edge from Leesil's hangover. Getting out of Byrd's inn was a welcome escape. At least he knew how to run down an undead if he couldn't run down his own past.
"We start at the Bronze Bell," Wynn suggested. "Lieutenant Omasta said there were witnesses, and Chap may pick up a trail."
"I think you should stay here," Magiere said, but it wasn't an order or filled with any spite toward Wynn. "It's not about what you… what happened in Droevinka. We don't have garlic for the quarrels, and you can't defend yourself otherwise. This is a straight-up hunt, and if Chap gets a scent…" Magiere stumbled over her words and turned blunt by nature. "We can't get held protecting you."
Wynn looked dumbstruck, and Leesil held his breath against the coming tirade. He agreed with Magiere, but knew he'd have to make Wynn see the sense of it. Chap barked once in agreement and stuck his nose into Wynn's neck. She exhaled and looked up at Magiere.
"Of course. I would just be in the way."
Leesil pulled out a few quarrels and tore up the towel to wrap the heads with small bits of cloth.