"Wynn," Magiere said, and crouched beside the sage. "Spend some time on those drawings of Byrd's. Now that you've been inside the keep, maybe something will come to you."
"Yes," Wynn answered, gaze down. "That sounds like a task for me."
Leesil uncorked an oil flask, then dipped and drained each quarrel head so its cloth wad was soaked.
"What are you doing?" Magiere asked.
"Take a flask and some quarrels," he said. "If one of us gets a shot with a burning quarrel, the other might hit him with a full flask of oil Soak his clothes or hair, and he'll go up in flames."
Magiere frowned, clearly not caring for the idea but having no better substitute. "We have to find him first."
She fitted a quarrel into the crossbow, slipping the feathered end under the thin metal clamp on top of the stock that held the shaft in place. She slung the weapon over her shoulder and tucked the rest of her quarrels through the back of her belt, then checked that her falchion slipped freely from its sheath.
Leesil strapped on his winged punching blades, and readied his own quiver, oil, and crossbow. He pulled his hood up around his face and slipped on his gloves. Finally he lifted the topaz amulet out of his hauberk's neck to hang in plain view.
"Ready?" he asked.
Magiere nodded. "Like Wynn said, we start at the Bronze Bell."
Chap licked Wynn's cheek, then led the way downstairs. Leesil glanced back into the room before closing the door. Wynn didn't look up, still sitting on the floor like a small kitten locked in the house after everyone left.
Hedi worked on an embroidered pillowcase as she sat in the meal hall that evening. It was a proper thing for a lady to do. When young, she'd never found much use for such pastimes. But a woman sewing quietly in a chair was almost invisible. Few ever noticed her presence or realized she noticed them.
Servants and soldiers wandered in and out, but no one spoke to her. Dinner had been to her liking, a mutton stew and fresh bread served with dried fruits and nuts. Fortunately, Darmouth had not appeared for the meal. Omasta sat with her at supper, but they did not feel the need to talk. Hedi noted that he left once his bowl was empty, not sending a servant for a second helping. It was strange that he did not indulge like the others, having risen up to favor in Darmouth's eyes.
Hedi did not care to go back up to her room, though sometimes she felt more alone among people. She worked in tiny stitches on the pillowcase. Time passed, and the dining hall emptied. With no one left to ob-serve, she thought of Emel, hoping he did not worry too much and still sought a way to free her.
Low voices caught her attention. She looked up to see Faris and Ventina enter, walking with heads close together in whispers. They stopped at the sight of her, clearly not expecting anyone here well past the evening meal. Hedi stood up with a short bow of acknowledgment.
"I hope I am not imposing. I was not tired and had nowhere else to go."
Her words were intended to put them at ease, but neither appeared moved or politely sympathetic in return. Faris stared at her with hard eyes and then lightly gripped his wife's upper arm.
"I must go. The hunt should begin soon."
Ventina nodded, and her husband left the meal hall. She walked to the table and gathered leftover bread and dried pears. She was a slender, wiry woman with wild black hair. Golden bracelets dangled from her wrists, though Hedi doubted they were true gold, and a matching circlet around her head held back wisps of loose hair.
Hedi stepped around the table's end, approaching Ventina. She might never again have an opportunity to speak with this woman alone.
"Lord Darmouth gave me leave to wander the keep," she began. "I met your daughter today."
Ventina looked up, her long features caught between caution and anger.
"Korey is a lovely child," Hedi went on, "with sweet manners and a gentle nature. You have raised her well."
Ventina's features smoothed. "You spoke with her?"
"Yes, we played at card games all afternoon, just children's games. She learns quickly. Catch the King was a bit too easy for her."
Few mothers could resist hearing their child praised, and Ventina was no exception. "How did she look? Was she well? Had she eaten?"
Hedi patiently answered Ventina's barrage of questions, assuring her of the girl's well-being. She watched Ventina's wariness melt, watched her shift slowly from the guarded servant of a tyrant to a mother starving for scraps of information about her daughter. Guilt flooded Hedi for what she was about to do, but she did not falter.
When Ventina appeared most at ease, Hedi stepped closer, pitching her voice to a whisper.
"I know you must hate him… as I do."
Ventina froze, confusion washing over her dusky features.
Hedi needed to break through Ventina's defenses, and pressed on. "Darmouth uses your child against you-Korey's life for your obedience. What if he no longer had such a tool in his possession?"
Ventina's eyes narrowed with a threatening cock of her head. Hedi did not back down.
"Baron Milea prepares to come for me, so we can escape the city. You can move more freely here than I. Help me, and you, Faris, and Korey may come with us. Emel has wealth and loyal men, and he will protect you. Help me and you will be free with your daughter."
Ventina backed slowly away from Hedi, suspicion growing with each step. There was one moment where Hedi was sure she saw the woman's hope grow, but it vanished like a candle flame caught in an evening breeze.
"You do not know," Ventina rasped, slowly shaking her head, "how many years we have been here. You sat next to him at your fine dinner, and you think you know Darmouth?"
Hedi was about to answer when Ventina lunged at her. It was Hedi's turn to retreat, the embroidery needle clasped in her hand behind her back.
"Do you think Korey was always an only child?" Ventina growled, then paused to let her words sink in.
Hedi understood but did not let it show.
"There are many ways to die," Ventina went on. "Some you couldn't imagine for yourself, let alone for a child. Seek your escape, and Darmouth will know. I won't listen to this madness!"
She whirled and headed for the archway. There she stopped, still facing out of the meal hall.
"What keeps me from going straight to my lord with this treachery?"
"Because you know Darmouth," Hedi answered evenly. "Because I do know him. Any whisper that you were offered a chance to betray him will only raise his suspicion toward you… and it will grow. You are no fool,
Ventina, if you have lived this long in his service. You will never speak a word of this to Darmouth."
This was the catch, and Hedi's security for her gamble. Whether Ventina agreed or not, she would do nothing in spite or fear. Ventina remained a moment and then fled, her red skirts swishing in her wake.
Hedi closed her eyes, cursing herself. She had played her hand too soon or in the wrong way. Instead of an ally, she had made another enemy.
Chane walked the streets toward the Bronze Bell and his next victim. Welstiel had told the locals that vampires developed a "taste" for certain kinds of victims. So why not support such a ridiculous lie? When he reached the more affluent district, or what passed for such in this city, he took to the alleys. It was unwise to try for a kill in the exact same spot, but somewhere close would serve well enough.
His tattered clothing reeked, and he was certain the cowl over his head was lice-ridden. The long, torn shawl was no better. Welstiel had jaggedly cut his hair, colored it black, and smeared coal dust on his face. He had left his longsword behind, as Welstiel said it did not fit Chane's new persona. He looked and smelled like the lowest dregs of mortal cattle, and this should have been humiliating or enraging, but Chane didn't care.