"Good girl," she said. "Now, change."
Korey's body began to shrink, darkening with fur that sprouted from her soft skin.
Hedi watched the reverse process with fascination instead of horror.
When it was complete, she cracked the door open, and Korey, the little black-brown cat, scurried out and down the corridor. She closed the door and folded the note she had written until it fit into the palm of her hand. When enough time passed that Korey would be well on her way, Hedi left and went down to the meal hall.
Emel stood within the archway in his green tunic and watched her enter. She almost smiled at the sight of his face. Then she saw Darmouth standing further into the hall.
"My lady," he said, and the tone made her feel like property.
She ignored him and held out her hands to Emel in greeting. Confusion replaced the sadness in his eyes as he returned her polite gesture, taking hands. His brow creased when he felt the folded paper she pressed into his palm.
"It is good to see you," he said calmly. "Lord Darmouth tells me you left unfinished business at the Bronze Bell?"
"Yes, I have not paid Mistress Dauczeck at the dressmaker's. It is two streets west of the inn. She will be waiting for the coins. Also, I never got to the letter for your sister regarding plans for the winter feast. Would you see to that for me?"
Emel nodded politely.
The following moments of inane chatter were torture, standing so close to him. Hedi wanted to touch him and to ask how he was or assure him of her treatment. Darmouth remained vigilant at the rear of the hall. When she ran out of conversation and imaginary tasks for Emel, Darmouth became restless and approached.
"Is that all?" he asked.
She could think of nothing else. The note in Emel's hand was urgent, and hopefully he would understand and follow her instructions. She studied his reddish hair and kind eyes, wishing she were leaving with him.
"Then I've other matters," Darmouth said. "You're dismissed, Emel."
He crossed his arms over his breastplate. Emel nodded his good-bye to Hedi, his subtle sadness returning, and left the meal hall.
Hedi was left angry and adrift as she heard the entryway door clunk shut. It strained her to remain polite and submissive in Darmouth's close presence.
"Perhaps you think me harsh," he said, "to lock up that scholar."
Neither denial nor confirmation would please him, so she remained silent.
"Your scholar girl is bait for a dangerous criminal," he continued. "Another traitor to be dealt with. You even know something of him, as I suspect you've never lost interest in what happened to your father."
Hedi was now confused. She remained passive, and answered truthfully, "I do not understand, my lord."
"His name is Leesil," Darmouth answered slowly. "Son of my former servants, Gavril and his elven wife, Nein'a, who betrayed me."
He looked her up and down, watching for her reaction-or something else. She wanted to spit bile in his face.
"I do not understand," she repeated, doe-eyed.
"That half-blood drove the stiletto through the back of your father's skull while he slept."
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Shortly past dusk, Chane and Welstiel stepped into the Ivy Vine inn. They retreated to the privacy of their room, their task completed. Chane had awoken Welstiel after the sun dipped below the trees. The two had gone in search of the inn called Byrd's, where they knew Magiere hid with this would-be revolutionary. Chane had only to glimpse the location to hold it in his mind for later use, and Welstiel shielded his presence from Magiere's or Chap's awareness. Still, Chane was relieved to be back in their room.
Removing his cloak, he dropped to his knees beside the robin's cage and carefully lifted out his bird. Welstiel stood silently as Chane opened his hands and watched the robin fly into the night. Chane closed his eyes and guided his familiar.
Leesil's anxiety grew through the afternoon. When he put on his cloak to leave in search of Magiere, Byrd stepped in his way.
''I'll do it," Byrd said. "I'll put up my 'closed' sign, and you lock the door after me."
"I'm sick of sitting here. They take too many risks just because I might be seen by someone who knows me. That's over. I'm making the decisions now."
"Then make the right one," Byrd argued. "I know who to see and what questions to ask. And someone has to stay here, in case they make it back."
Leesil remained poised to force his way past Byrd. His father's old "friend" was right, which only angered him more.
"Then go," he said.
Byrd left, and Leesil reluctantly latched the door behind him.
When dusk finally came, anxiety turned to panic, and Leesil paced through the common room. Twice he found himself leaning on the bar, staring over it at the wine and ale casks behind. He was on the verge of grabbing his cloak again when he heard a creak from the kitchen. He jerked the doorway curtain aside as Byrd came through the back door alone.
"Where are they?" Leesil asked.
"Calm down," Byrd said, but his stoic expression had no such effect. "I can't get a straight answer from any of my contacts, but there's been gossip among the townsfolk about a skirmish near the bridge. Soldiers chased a tall woman and a wolf through an eastside tavern. No one knows what happened after that."
"What?" Leesil grabbed Byrd by his thick wool vestment, and anger and fear made his stomach burn. "You're the one who was all for her going to Darmouth!"
Byrd's expression darkened as he tried to pull away and step past.
Leesil shoved him back. Too many things had gone wrong since they'd come to Venjetz. For all Byrd's cunning-plotting against Darmouth and still serving him, allied with the anmaglahk yet still alive and unsuspected-why did this man always know so little when it mattered most?
The back door slammed open, and Magiere and Chap rushed in.
Her hair had broken loose from its thong, and both she and Chap panted from exertion. Leesil released Byrd and grabbed Magiere in his arms. She let him hold her for a moment and then pushed him back. Her face was smudged, and her clothes marred with dirt and strands of hay.
"They took Wynn," she said. "You were right. It was a trap… and they caught her instead of me."
Leesil hadn't thought of Wynn amid his relief over Magiere's return. "How long ago?"
Magiere shook her head. "Not long after we left. We had to run, and I sent her the other way, thinking the soldiers would follow me. I heard her call out but couldn't go back for her."
Chap's sudden growl startled Leesil. The dog wrinkled his jowls, half exposing clenched teeth as he inched toward Byrd. When Leesil lifted his eyes again, he found Magiere's irises had flooded black.
"You two-faced bastard!" she snarled, and lunged around Leesil.
Leesil heard the crack of her fist before he could turn his head. Byrd reeled into the kitchen's hearth, then pivoted around, raising heavy fists before Magiere closed again.
"You sold us out!" Magiere shouted.
Leesil grabbed Magiere's waist but only slowed her enough for Byrd to shift out of her reach. Chap circled around the table's other side, blocking Byrd from reaching the kitchen doorway.
Byrd's innkeeper persona vanished. All emotion drained from his face, and the blinks of his eyes came further apart as his gaze hardened upon Magiere. He slid his left foot slightly back so that he was angled well enough to charge at either Magiere or Chap. Byrd slipped his right hand behind his back where Leesil had once seen the man pull out an infighter's fist-knife from under his shirt.
"Darmouth is strangling my people," he said, "but I wouldn't give you up to him. It would gain me nothing."
"How else would he know?" Magiere continued shouting. "Wynn is Darmouth's prisoner. And you're in league with those murdering anmaglahk. I won't swallow any more of your lies!"