She did not scold him for bad manners and stood up to pour tea into the mugs Byrd had set out. Magiere took the first and set it down in front of Leesil. She seemed strangely sad beneath her usual dour air.
"Are you all right?" Wynn asked.
Magiere pulled another mug across to herself. "A woman died tonight. I should have gone out sooner."
Wynn sat down. "Do not blame your-"
A sharp scratching at the front door made her pause, and Byrd got up. When he opened the door, a dark shape bolted through his legs into the room.
Everyone at the table shifted or tensed. Wynn jerked her feet off the floor, twisting quickly in her chair as she searched for what had invaded the room.
Across the floor near the bar sauntered a dark brown cat as large as Clover Roll. His eyes glistened like his fur. Everyone relaxed again.
"Another stray," Leesil muttered before taking a gulp of tea. He had not yet touched any of the food.
Byrd's reply was cut off by hissing and spitting. They all looked over to see Clover Roll up on the next table, head low as he yowled at the newcomer. His dirty-cream fur stood on end, and his tail arched forward over his back with the tip quivering.
The few other cats about the common room slinked away in all directions. Only Tomato, sitting with her brother at the bottom of the stairs, stood her ground. Her mouth widened in a hiss, and she resembled a tiny orange porcupine. But Tomato was too small to be heard over Clover Roll's raucous noise.
"Clover, stop that," Byrd scolded. "You know what it's like to be hungry, so mind your manners!"
Wynn remembered Chap was right below the table, and she leaned sideways to peek at the dog. Chap watched the new stray without a blink but stayed in his place. Wynn breathed easier. At least Chap had resigned himself to being a guest in this place with so many four-footed patrons.
Clover Roll lowered his voice to a grating rumble.
Byrd tore up small bits of sausage and dropped them onto a plate. "Here, boy," he said to the cat. "Come and eat this."
The newcomer strolled over to nibble on the tidbits Byrd offered. At the quick lick of the animal's tongue, Wynn noticed that it was dark like the rest of him rather than pink.
"All right, what happened tonight?' Byrd asked, hunkering down in a chair. "You all look like you've seen the backside of cheer."
As far as the hunt was concerned, they had no secrets from Byrd. Magiere started with the bodies of the woman and servant in the alley. Wynn listened intently to all, down to the vanishing of their quarry.
"This ever happen before?" Byrd asked.
"No, not without leaving some trace," Leesil answered.
"Not only did we fail to protect the people here," Magiere added, "but I took this bargain with Darmouth so we'd have an excuse to get back into the keep. We're no closer to that, either."
Tomato still made a great show of hissing. Wynn walked over to pick her up, softly petting the kitten's head as she returned to the table.
"You will find this undead," she encouraged, looking Magiere straight in the eyes. "We can still take its head to Darmouth and reenter the keep. And you must get this vampire, Magiere. It is a terrible danger to the people here."
Magiere remained quiet.
"There may be another avenue we could attempt," Wynn continued. "Concerning why Leesil's parents ran for the keep. Magiere… could you not befriend Lieutenant Omasta? From the way he looked at you, he appeared quite interested. Did you notice how he looked at you?"
Leesil spit tea back into his cup. "What?"
"Wynn…!" Magiere snapped but was too shocked to finish.
"That's enough!" Leesil shouted, standing up. "All of you stop thinking you can toy with Darmouth."
"Well, then, lad," Byrd put in, his voice rising, "why don't you come up with a way to get inside by yourself?"
Wynn was not fond of shouting matches, but after time in Magiere's company, she had hardened to them. Her dislike of Byrd grew more and more, and she looked away in disgust. She noticed that the plate of sausage scraps on the floor had hardly been touched, and the new stray was nowhere to be seen. Clover Roll sat on the front window sill, rumbling, as he peered out through the half-open shutter.
Magiere's tone was low and threatening as she turned on Byrd. "And what exactly are you up to? You think this coy routine-"
"The new cat is gone," Wynn said.
Byrd looked around. "Maybe he was just a neighbor out for a stroll and headed home."
The diversion quelled the brewing fight, and Leesil dropped back into his chair.
"We are all tired, and it is late," Wynn said, putting Tomato up on her shoulder. "We should sleep and talk tomorrow."
Magiere was the only one who nodded agreement and began piling dishes back onto the wooden serving tray.
Before Wynn headed for the stairs to retrieve Potato, she stepped to the front window and scratched Clover Roll's back. He purred in answer but remained vigilant. Wynn looked out to the empty street as cold night air struck her face.
Hedi gave up on sleep and climbed out of bed. It was late, perhaps well past midnight, but the bed's heavy coverings felt stifling. She decided to walk the halls, if nothing else. No matter that she could leave at any time, this room was still her cell and the keep no more than a prison. If she tired herself enough, she might return later and sleep. She pulled her cloak over her cotton shift and fastened the front.
The corridor was as cold and stale as her room, but she breathed in relief nonetheless. The passage was deserted, as expected, and she headed toward the stairs down to the main level. Perhaps there was still some wine about-or ale, if she were desperate-to help calm her into slumber
Hedi stepped off the stairs into the main entryway and turned toward the communal meal hall. She was halfway to its arched entrance when she heard low voices behind her. Someone was talking in the counsel hall on the other side of the wide entryway. She paused, remaining still to listen more carefully.
"You're certain?"
Hedi recognized the low voice as Darmouth's growl. She backed toward the stairs, staying clear of sight, and then crept toward the council hall's entrance with soft steps.
"Yes, my lord," Faris answered from within. "The traitor you described and the one who attacked our men at the Stravinan border. One and the same. His companions called him 'Leesil'. He is with that woman you hired. They stay at Byrd's inn, and Byrd took part in their discussion. The half-blood and his companions spoke of getting back into the keep."
A long silence followed. When Darmouth answered, his voice grated with strangled rage.
"Take them all-now! Use as many men as you need. I want his corpse on the keep wall by dawn!"
"No, my lord," Faris warned. "If he's half of what you claim, soldiers might not be able to capture him. We could catch his woman and the others, but he would slip away in such an insecure area. And taking this hunter by force in public is no better. Word has already spread among the nobles from Geyren that you personally hired her to protect them. How will it appear if you arrest her only a day later?"
"I don't give a damn what it looks like," Darmouth snapped.
"Wait until tomorrow," Faris advised. "Send her word that you require another audience. The death of Marianne a' Royce is reason enough. Once she is within these walls, we can hold her quietly. When she fails to return to the inn, the half-blood will come for her."
"Why, when he already abandoned his own parents?"
"He will, my lord. I saw him look at her. He will come… and we will deal with Byrd later."
Hedi stood frozen in place.
Booted footsteps inside the council hall approached the archway, Darmouth or Paris would step out in a moment. Hedi hurried up the stairs, keeping her steps light. Upon reaching the third floor, she walked more calmly.