Pendant of Fortune (27 page)

The wall of the castle acted as a shield on this side, so although the rain still dripped down on him, there was much less wind. His heart sank as he looked up at the blank wall of the tower in front of him. He stared again, hoping he’d just overlooked a window slit. No matter how hard he looked, the window didn’t appear. In all his thoughts about getting to the tower, he’d never even considered that there wouldn’t be a window where he needed one.

He turned to go back, then thought, what harm can it do to look, now I’ve come this far. Maybe there’ll be a crack in the wall or something. He padded cautiously along the wall, noticing that out toward the parapet, the wind was still howling, driving the rain in unpredictable eddies around the raised stone barrier. As he drew closer to the tower, the far edge of it looked more shadowed and irregular, and his steps quickened as he began to make out the edge of a window.

He had to stand on the parapet itself to see it clearly. The stone was slick under his chilled paws and the wind gusted around him, but he could see the dark hole in the stone. On the other side was…

“
Streak!” He called as loudly as he dared, trying to project his voice toward the hole. He cocked his ear, but the wind filled it and drowned out any reply. He called again, and this time he thought he heard a reply. Tensely, he waited, shivering and wet on the castle wall, eyes and ears fixed on the small black window slit.

After a few moments, he called again, convinced that the wind was playing tricks on him. He couldn’t bring himself to turn around, but he knew he would have to soon. He couldn’t stay out here all night. He—

A white finger appeared at the window, followed slowly by the rest of a white wolf’s paw.

His heart stuck in his throat. He stretched his arm out, afraid that it was a ghost, but his fingers closed around a warm, solid paw. He squeezed as hard as he could, and Streak held tightly to him. Everything’s going to be all right, he wanted to say. Just tell me…did you do it? He had to settle for the warm grip, the scant comfort he could give (and receive) from that touch.

It seemed hours that he stood there, muzzle pressed against the rough stone, paw holding and held by Streak’s. He couldn’t say which of them let go first, just that they both knew it was time. Slowly, Streak withdrew his paw, sliding it along Volle’s retreating one, and then he was gone.

Volle stood there for another moment, his discomfort forgotten, then slowly slid down from the parapet. He made his way back to the ruined tower and stood there in the shelter of the wall, staring numbly down at the blackness. He’d gone through so much, and even though he’d gotten a brief touch, he couldn’t help but feel that his whole ordeal had been for nothing. His heart was aching, and the pressure behind his eyes told him that the moisture on his muzzle was not all rainwater.

He looked dully over at the wall he’d jumped onto and realized that he couldn’t expect to jump back. But he could easily jump down onto the wooden boards that were thrumming softly with the irregular rain. From the lowest step of the partial stair, it was about seven feet to the wood. He turned around and tried to lower himself until he was hanging from the step, but as he pushed his knees off the edge of the step, his paws slipped. He caught himself briefly, then both paws came loose from the step and he landed heavily on the boards, falling backwards onto his tail.

For a moment, he lay there, looking up at the sky, but the rain falling into his eyes and ears spurred him to get up quickly. The boards clattered a bit as he walked across them, searching out the stone stairs more from memory than sight, though as he drew closer he could see their outlines dimly. The foot of the stairs was blocked by a large tapestry that smelled of age and mildew. He paused, but couldn’t smell any guards on the other side, so he pushed his way around the tapestry and made his way back through the castle.

Fortunately, it was still deserted. He only passed one couple, the Lord and Lady Villutian, who sniffed visibly and nodded to him while making a wide circuit. He realized how rank his wet fur must be, and resisted the urge to shake himself there in the corridor. Helfer’s mansion awaited, with a bathtub full of soft scented powder. The thought gave him little comfort, as though the cold had reached more deeply into him and numbed him. Even stepping back outside into the chill wind and light rain didn’t seem to make him any colder.

The footservant was not at the gate when Volle arrived there. He appeared a moment later, a smiling grey fox whose smile turned to an expression of horror when he saw Volle standing there. “M-my Lord,” he stammered, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t see…I was only gone for a moment, but you must have been waiting so long…please forgive me!”

Volle blinked at him and then realized that he was still soaked. The poor fox must have thought that he’d been waiting all this time. “No, no,” he said. “I’ve only been here a moment. Just fetch a carriage for me.”

“
Immediately! Here, take my umbrella.” The fox pressed the umbrella into Volle’s paw, and scurried around the corner.

If he hadn’t been so tired and upset, Volle would have grinned at the misunderstanding. He raised the umbrella over his head and leaned against the wall, his eyelids drooping slightly. They drifted shut, only to snap open when the fox’s voice said hesitantly, “My Lord?”

“
Yes?”

“
The buggy will be here in a moment. It is being prepared. It is late and we had thought that everyone had left. I am sorry for the delay. Please forgive me.”

Volle managed a smile, and shook his head again. “Nothing to forgive,” he said. “You are doing an admirable job…” He searched for the fox’s name but couldn’t find it.

“
My name is Mikan, my Lord.”

“
Mikan, then. Thank you.” Volle leaned forward to get the fox’s scent, whiskers twitching. Mikan smiled hesitantly and followed suit, looking relieved at the cordial gesture.

The clatter of wheels and hooves announced the arrival of the buggy. Mikan helped Volle into it and wished him a good night. Volle returned the umbrella over the fox’s protests and raised a paw in response as the other fox closed the door.

He dozed off several times on the trip down the mountain, stirring groggily when the carriage came to a stop by Helfer’s guest entrance. Roferro, the otter, opened the door for him.

“
My Lord,” he said, shocked at Volle’s sodden clothes and fur, “you must come inside and dry off! You’re no otter, to be playing in the rain like that.”

Volle blinked at him blearily, and nodded. “I’d intended to do that.” He descended from the carriage, guided by the otter’s paw, and hurried into the shelter of the mansion.

Roferro walked him all the way to his bedroom, supporting him with one arm. Volle was more acutely aware now of the places he’d scraped on his legs and the places he’d landed on his back and tail when he took that fall. He could have made it without the otter’s support, but he took it gratefully. When he had made it to his bed and was sitting down, Roferro left him to check the bathroom. He emerged a moment later. “Everything is stocked, my Lord,” he said. “Do you need any more assistance?”

Volle shook his head. He missed his personal servant. Welcis would have had a dry towel all ready to wrap around him. “Thank you, Roferro,” he said softly. “Good night.”

“
Good night, my Lord.” The otter retreated and closed the door gently behind him.

He was tempted, so tempted, to lie back on the bed and close his eyes. But his fur was still wet, and it was when he realized that he was getting the bed wet as well that he finally forced himself to his feet. The laces of his shirt and pants were soaked and difficult to pull apart, but with fatigued patience he managed to shed his clothes, leaving them in a mass on the floor.

The bathroom had a facility where stones could be heated and then placed under the tub to warm it. But the fire was cold and so were the stones. No matter, Volle thought wearily. He was so cold that the tub felt warm as he eased himself into the powder. He covered himself with it and lay there, feeling the talc soak the moisture from his fur. I shouldn’t go to sleep here, he thought as he laid his head back, and the next thing he saw when he opened his eyes was Helfer’s grinning muzzle, limned with brightness from the morning sun.

“
Hef?” He coughed dust out of his throat as he tried to sit up.

“
Morning, sleepyhead.” The weasel’s cheerful grin rested on the edge of the tub. “Don’t you know that’s bad for you?”

“
Yeah, I…” He coughed again. “I was really tired.”

“
I guess you were. And lonely too, I see.”

Volle followed Helfer’s look down his stomach and grinned sheepishly. Helfer had seen him naked before, so he didn’t bother to cover his erection as he stepped out of the tub, just reached for the brush. “It was a very hard night.”

Helfer laughed, though Volle hadn’t meant it to be funny. “Yes, you’ve made your point.” He grinned even more widely. “I wanted to see if you’d be up for a run.”

Volle nodded. “Just let me brush off.”

“
I’ll wait outside.” Helfer slipped out of the bathroom and closed the door.

As he worked the brush through his dust-clotted fur, the events of the previous night came back to Volle. He wanted to go back to the castle right away, to try to figure out another way around Dereath, but he thought it would be good to run with Helfer first. The only question was how much of the previous day’s events to tell him, and in the end, of course, he told him everything.

“
You were on the roof? That place is dangerous.”

Volle snorted, panting white breaths into the chilly morning air. “I’m not a cub, Hef. I was fine.” He had downplayed the times he’d slipped or been close to slipping. His paw pads, slapping through the wet grass, were still sore.

The morning was beautifully clear for once; even up the mountain the usual clouds had not yet appeared. Last night’s rain and wind seemed to have blown over, clearing the air but also letting in the cold. Volle only felt it in his muzzle when he inhaled, though. The sun on his fur was warm, and even the air rushing through his tail fur as he ran felt good.

Hef was quiet for a few more paces, then said, “I don’t see why you had to go climbing over the roof, though. Why not just sleep with the rat? How bad could it be?”

“
How bad…Hef, it’s Dereath. We spent five years trying to avoid him. Six, for you. And now I should just give in?”

Hef shrugged as best he could while running. “Sure. Maybe it’ll calm him down some.”

“
He’s disgusting!”

“
It’s only sex. You clean up afterwards and forget about it.”

Volle shook his head. “I don’t know if it’s that easy for me. Plus…I just don’t want to let him win.” It sounded petty once he’d said it.

“
Of course you don’t. But sometimes you don’t have any choice. The longer you wait, the more satisfied he’ll feel when you do go to him.”

“
Don’t you think I can find another way around it?” He had hoped that Helfer would suggest something, with his knowledge of the area and his influence, but he didn’t want to ask his friend outright.

“
Sounds like you tried. If there’s nothing Nero can do, then I can’t think of anything else.”

Annoyed, Volle lengthened his stride a bit. If Helfer noticed that he had to run faster, he didn’t say anything about it. As they reached a narrow path behind the mansion, Volle relented and let the weasel run ahead of him. They ran single file along the rocky path. “I can’t, Hef.”

“
I think you’re making too big a deal out of it.”

“
Want me to ask if he’ll take a night with you instead?”

Helfer flashed a grin over his shoulder. “If it was for something I really wanted, I’d do it.”

“
By getting drunk?”

The weasel shrugged. “Probably. I wouldn’t want to face him sober. Or see him naked sober.”

“
I don’t think I want to be drunk. I want to make sure I’m in control.”

“
I think,” Helfer said, panting a bit now, “that that is just what he doesn’t want.”

Volle shivered at that, but saved his breath until they were back on grass. “Hef, what if he wants to…I don’t know, tie me up? Or use a knife or something?”

“
He won’t kill you. He’s not that crazy.”

“
I don’t know. But still, he could do a lot.”

“
So tell Archie where you’re going beforehand. If you’re nervous, that’s the best thing. Tell Dereath someone knows where you are.”

“
Tell someone else what I’m going to do?” Volle panted. “I can’t even convince myself to do it. I certainly don’t want anyone else knowing.”