"Yes."
"Good. I he corridors running north and south on the main floor end at doors that must lead below. There will be guards to get past, which would be more difficult to deal with by myself."
I he thought of facing more of Darmouth's soldiers made Wynn reluctant again, but she nodded. CDF picked up the discarded muslin dress and held it out to her.
"Put this on,' she said. "At present, Darmouth and Omasta are distracted. No one else will take notice of a servant in my company."
Wynn stripped off her coat and short robe to put on the maid's dress. Hedi pulled a white cloth out of her gown's sleeve and wrapped it about Wynn's hair, then stuffed Wynn's coat and short robe into the bag.
Hedi appraised Wynn, nodded in approval, and snatched up the brass candlestick. "I will call in the guard. Stand before the door, just as you are, and let his suspicion draw him in. Korey, it is time to be a cat again."
Something about Hedi reminded Wynn of Magiere. Perhaps it was the way she took charge, as if it were her natural role. That thought vanished as Wynn stood in wonder, watching Korey revert to her previous form.
Thin fur sprouted from the girl's soft skin. Hands and feet became tiny paws. Her body shriveled and shrank until the shift dropped around her to the floor. The small brown-black cat squirmed out of the shift's neck. Hedi shoved the girl's clothing back inside her bag, then picked up Korey to tuck her in as well. She handed the bag to Wynn.
"Ready?" she asked, and stepped back beside the door.
Wynn was not remotely ready.
Hedi kicked the tray with its bowl, and Wynn jumped at the racket as pottery clattered across the floor.
A key rattled. The door swung open. The young guard looked in, one hand on the hilt of his sheathed shortsword.
"Lady?" he said.
Wynn's small hands closed tight on the bag's scrunched opening.
The guards eyes widened at the sight of her changed attire. He took one quick step through the door.
Hedi swung. The candlestick's wide base caught the young man squarely in the back of his head. He crumpled to all fours, but started to rise. Hedi swung again, and the soldier went down, eyes rolling closed.
Wynn knelt, feeling the man's throat and listening at his mouth.
"What are you doing?" Hedi asked.
"He is still breathing," Wynn answered with relief.
"He is a servant to Darmouth. Save your concern for yourself."
Hedi crouched, setting the candlestick down, and took the guard's key ring from his belt hook. She pulled his shortsword as well, tentatively lifted the weapon, shook her head slightly, and set it back down. In its place, she drew the dagger on the man's belt.
Wynn watched with growing concern as Hedi eyed the blade's sharp tip and glanced down at the defenseless young soldier's exposed back. Perhaps Hedi was not so like Magiere after all. Wynn grabbed the candlestick off the floor, holding it in one hand and the canvas bag in the other. She stepped over the guard to stand above Hedi.
Hedi glanced up at her once with a frown and then rose. Wynn followed as the woman stepped out of the room and locked the door behind them.
Welstiel rode ahead of Chane as they approached the gatehouse before the keep's bridge. They could have walked, but he had decided to pay the stable bill and retrieve their horses. This delayed them for some time, as the stable master had retired and had to be sent for. Looking down on the gatehouse soldiers from horseback would give him a more noble and imposing air. Welstiel had also taken time to dress carefully, appearing ex-actly as he had on his first visit, with a black cap covering the white parches at his temples. Chane wore a cloak with the hood up and remained silent as he rode behind,
Four soldiers were stationed before the bridge gatehouse. Welstiel halted his horse and waited for one to approach him. A middle-aged man with a heavily scarred face came up-the same one who had escorted Welstiel inside on his first visit.
"Your business?' he asked gruffly.
"I met with Lord Darmouth a few evenings past," Welstiel said. "I have come with further news of the hunter he hired. Inform your lord, as he will want to see me.
Welstiel had the appearance and manner of an outland noble, and the guard studied him for only a moment before turning around.
"Open the way!" he called out, and the gates swung wide as the scarred soldier waved Welstiel onward. "Follow me, sir. You'll wait in the inner courtyard until my lord has been informed."
They crossed the bridge behind the soldier. When they passed through the keep's main gates and tunnel into the courtyard, Welstiel dismounted. Chane followed his lead and stood behind him. They left their horses with the courtyard soldiers and trailed their guide to the keep's wide doors on the far side. The soldier had already opened one of the doors when he realized his visitors were still following.
The scarred soldier raised a hand for them to wait as instructed, but Welstiel did not wish for Darmouth to know of his presence.
"What is your name?" Welstiel asked.
Che soldier appeared taken aback. "Devid, sir. I'll announce your arrival, if you'll wait here."
Welstiel guessed most of Darmouth's men would be out looking for Magiere. He stepped back from the door compliantly and glanced about. Aside from one man leading their horses off, there were three others in the courtyard. Welstiel was hesitant to use the mental tricks of an undead in the open, but so long as the target was calm, any onlookers would be none the wiser. Chane shifted closer toward the doors, watching him curiously.
Welstiel motioned for Devid to join him with a curt wave of his hand. Devid scowled, but stepped forward. Looking into the man's eyes, Wei-stiel spoke in a low thrum that carried his suggestions into the man's thoughts.
"Perhaps we could wait inside, out of the cold?'
Devid blinked twice. "Yes… it is cold out… but you're not to leave the entryway."
Welstiel leaned closer, glancing toward the tunnel to the bridge. "Your lord called you to the Bronze Bell Inn, did he not? He needs your service even now."
He focused an image in his mind of Darmouth ordering Devid to the inn. He did not even look at Devid, but waited.
A moment passed. Devid took two steps into the courtyard toward the tunnel. He looked back once at Welstiel. The man's blank expression clouded with confusion, then settled into a stoic urgency. He hurried off across the courtyard.
Welstiel watched him leave, holding the image of Darmouth in his mind until Devid was far into the tunnel and approaching the keep's outer gate. He waited for Chane's usual comment. Every time Welstiel used any ability as a Noble Dead, it elicited some sardonic remark from his companion. He had become accustomed to it, but this time Chane remained silent.
Welstiel looked back. The door was ajar, and Chane was gone.
He hurried inside to find the wide entryway empty. Welstiel looked up the stairs ahead.
Chane had run off to save his little sage once again.
Welstiel's anger passed quickly. He might be better off alone in watching over Magiere, especially with Chane's obsession constantly distracting him. It would certainly be easier to move about the keep. Welstiel could see that a time would come when a choice might be necessary: either to be rid of Chane, or to remove the object of his distraction once and for all.
The sounds of male chatter carried from the meal hall. He hurried along the opposite wall away from the voices, and ducked through the archway into the counsel hall. Before he looked back to be certain no one saw him, he sensed something warm and alive within the hall.
Two wolfhounds with wiry gray fur lay at the hall's back beneath the tapestries. Both stood up at the sight of him.
Welstiel felt the long-dormant predator within each of them, a trace that decades of domestication had not fully erased. He could guide that instinct with purpose. He had done so once to bring a wolf within Chane's reach for the making of a familiar. Dogs were easier to seduce, already pliant to human masters.