Shadow Chaser (30 page)

“One of my servants, no doubt…”

“Yes, servants are an unreliable breed. But take my advice, duke: Nothing brings a servant to his senses like a good flogging. By the way, will you be in Ranneng for long?”

“No, I am just passing through and intend to go back in the morning.”

“Simply traveling?”

“Yes,” the Garrakian replied curtly as the count carefully studied the fascinating article from the Age of Achievements.

Walking up to the window, I saw the park painted silver by the moonlight.

“You have taken the precaution of installing bars on the windows, count.”

“I’m sorry, what did you say, dralan?” asked Balistan Pargaid, interrupting his contemplation of the black bracelet for a moment. “Ah yes! To stop thieves. I have put bars in this wing. Here and in my bedroom. Although after my men skinned two thieves alive, the local guild of thieves decided not to risk any more of its members.”

“I think that will not last long. You have a fortune here…”

“Well, time will tell.”

It certainly will. I’m sure the bars are not the full story; the windows and, perhaps, even the doors are protected by a couple of magic surprises to give intruders a warm, or rather, hot welcome.

“How much do you want for it?” Balistan Pargaid asked, handing the bracelet back to me regretfully.

I weighed the bracelet in my hand, mentally taking leave of it forever. Ah! How I’d love to take its full value in gold from the count, but Miralissa said …

“Take it as a gift. It didn’t cost me anything.”

Balistan Pargaid made no attempt to refuse, which indicated quite clearly that he was a man of intelligence who took anything that happened to be there for the taking. But he was rather staggered.

“Dralan Par!” It was the first time he had called me by my full name. “I am in your debt.”

“Well then,” I said, forcing a smile. “Let’s get back to the hall quickly, or they’ll drink all the wine while we’re gone.”

Balistan Pargaid smiled, carefully placed his new acquisition beside a battle-ax from the Gray Age, and nodded.

“And what is behind this door? Another little collection worth sixteen thousand in gold?” I asked the count when we had left the room.

“Oh no! This is my bedroom. I deliberately sleep close to my treasures,” the count said with a laugh. “But let us go, or my guests really will think that I have forgotten about them.”

Perhaps that really is his bedroom. But the Key is in there, too. I felt its call very clearly now. For a moment there I wanted to hit Balistan Pargaid over the head while his back was turned, then take advantage of the commotion to sneak into the room and steal the Key.

But I couldn’t do that. Miralissa ordered me only to find out where the Key was, but not to touch it under any circumstances.… And if the dark elfess thinks that for the time being the artifact should not be touched, then that’s how it’s got to be.

In the hall the music was still playing, people were making idle chit-chat, and Kli-Kli had clambered up onto a table and was juggling four cream buns. By absurd coincidence a fifth landed on his pointed cap to general laughter and a storm of applause.

My attention was attracted by a woman in a bloodred dress, standing all alone beside the babbling fountain.

She was short, with light brown hair that just reached her bare shoulders, high cheekbones, a very slight crook in her nose, and pensive blue eyes. You couldn’t really call her a beauty, but I could hardly take my eyes off her. There was something about her … I can’t describe it in words. This woman literally radiated waves of power and attraction.

Power? I wonder if that’s what I’m sensing, or is Valder sensing it?

Balistan Pargaid noticed my glance and smiled knowingly:

“Come, gentlemen, let me introduce you to my guest.”

The female stranger smelled of fresh strawberries. She was not wearing any jewelery apart from earrings in the form of spiders with their legs tenderly embracing the lobes of her ears.

“Lady Iena! Allow me to introduce my dear guest. His Lordship Ganet Shagor. And this is Dralan Par.”

The plump, attractive lips smiled, and the young woman bowed her head as she bobbed down in a casual curtsey.

“My respects to you, gentlemen…”

Her voice sent a chilly shiver running down my spine and I shuddered. It had been dark in the Master’s prison, and I hadn’t been able to see the Messenger’s captive clearly. But I recognized her voice, even though she had not talked as much as the late lamented Leta.

Lady Iena and Lafresa were the same woman.

“What’s wrong, dralan?” she asked me with concern, apparently having noticed how dumbfounded I was.

“Don’t be concerned, milady. It’s nothing to worry about. I am not used to attending such impressive receptions, that’s all,” I said awkwardly.

I wanted very badly to get out of that house as quickly as possible. While I was busy trying to be a dralan, I had completely forgotten that Lafresa was also desperate to get hold of the Key. This was big trouble. We had really serious problems now!

“Is everything to your liking, milady?” the count asked.

“Yes, thank you. I am tired after the journey, please forgive me. Good night, gentlemen.”

She left us and started walking up the stairs.

All this time Kli-Kli, who was standing some distance away, had been making faces at me and pointing desperately by turns at the white tablecloth on a small table with drinks and at his own face.

I gave a faint nod.

I don’t understand.

Another jab of his finger in the direction of the white tablecloth, then at his face, and then a highly suggestive gesture, running the edge of his hand across his throat. What’s he trying to tell me?

Kli-Kli gave a despairing grin and hurried across to us.

“Milord, of course I understand that the evening has been a success, and your dralan has even turned pink from drinking, but unfortunately Milla and Eralla, to their own supreme regret, will have to leave the gathering. They have developed an itch in a certain place, if you take my meaning. They are wondering if you will go with them or join them later?”

The jester’s eyes simply screamed that it would be better for us to go with them. What could possibly have happened?

Eel yawned wearily, casually covering his mouth with his glove, and nodded.

“Unfortunately, count, I am obliged to leave your remarkable house. You know what these elves are like.”

“Well then, if you are ever in Ranneng you must pay me another visit.”

“Definitely. At the very first opportunity,” said Eel, taking his leave of our host.

I don’t think Balistan Pargaid has any idea of just how soon we’ll be paying our next visit to his estate.

Kli-Kli went galloping on ahead of us, jangling his little bells and waving a soft roll that he had grabbed off the table.

“Make way for the highly talented jester of Duke Ganet Shagor! Make way!”

He carried on shouting like that until we were out of the hall.

“What’s wrong, Kli-Kli?”

“Paleface is back.”

I forced myself to keep on walking without looking round.

“Are you sure?”

“Oh yes! He arrived half an hour ago with that lady you were drooling over.”

So that’s where Rolio went! He was meeting Lafresa.

“Then we’ve left the party just in time.”

“Did you find the Key?”

“Yes.”

“The gods be praised!”

Our carriage was standing at the entrance. Miralissa and Egrassa were already inside it. The Wild Hearts on horseback made up a guard of honor.

As usual, old woman weariness arrived unexpectedly. I only realized how dangerous what I had just done was after I got into the carriage.

“Harold, did you find the Key?” Miralissa asked.

“Yes,” Kli-Kli answered for me. “Can’t you see that he’s asleep?”

I sank down into the deep whirlpool of sleep before the carriage had even left the count’s estate.

9

AND THE KEY WILL DECIDE WHO TO HELP

“Don’t even think about it, you’re not coming with me,” I hissed at Kli-Kli.

“That’s what you think! But I’m coming anyway!” the jester retorted.

“I told you, stay here!”

“Harold, you can leave me here, but I’ll still follow you, no matter what you do! And what’s more, you’ve got my favorite medallion hanging round your neck now. If you don’t let me come, then I’ll take it back.”

I gritted my teeth and gazed at the wall surrounding Balistan Pargaid’s estate. Not for the first time in the last five minutes.

Night. Silence. The moon and the stars were hidden behind the clouds. Only the light from the large lanterns hanging beside the gate made it possible to see anything. Ideal conditions for my kind of work. The darker it was, the easier it would be to get the job done. Although when Kli-Kli’s around, it’s best to forget about words like “easy.”

Almost a full day had gone by since we attended the count’s reception, and now here I was, lying on my stomach beside the wall of his estate. This was the perfect time to steal into the mansion house and take back what belonged to us. To be quite honest, I’d wanted to take the risk and break into the count’s home on the night of the reception, but Miralissa had insisted that we mustn’t act in the heat of the moment. Even the fact that Lafresa had shown up didn’t persuade her. When I told her about it, the elfess simply laughed and said that breaking the bonds was not that simple and the Master’s envoy would have to wait for an auspicious conjunction of the stars.

While I was making genteel conversation with the nobility, the others hadn’t wasted any time. Miralissa checked the house for magical surprises and discovered that all the windows on the second floor were protected by defensive spells. Egrassa got hold of a detailed plan of the house from somewhere (how he managed that, I have no idea!), and the Wild Hearts, who had smuggled a couple of bottles of fine wine from Master Quidd’s cellar into the estate, got talking with five of the guards and found out the actual routes followed by the patrols, as well as their schedule. So now I was all set. All I had to do was get in, take the Key, and get out before it was missed.

Really, what could be simpler than that?

And then, when everything was ready, and I was all set to get started, Ell, Egrassa, Markauz, Eel, and Arnkh announced that they were going with me. Of course, I was indignant at the very idea and fervently opposed it. The last thing I wanted was an entire crowd tagging along!

“And what if they spot you? Who’s going to cover you, Harold?”

“They won’t spot me,” I insisted stubbornly, but it was no use. The five of them set off with me, while the others started hastily packing all our things, so that when we got back we could leave the city immediately.

The elves dressed up in their dark green traveling outfits, smeared some dark gunk on their faces (which were already swarthy enough anyway), slung their s’kashes over their shoulders, and picked up their bows. Alistan set aside his sword of singing steel, armed himself with the battle-ax that had belonged to Tomcat, and dressed himself all in black, then he and Eel and Arnkh, who had pulled on a black tunic over his beloved chain mail, set off to protect poor little Harold.

His Grace was not at all concerned that this would effectively make him an accomplice to a burglary, a fact that was surely enough to dishonor any decent noble’s line for the next ten generations. (But then, if you think about it, there was no real disgrace involved: Everybody knows that most noblemen steal on a much bigger scale than ordinary commoners.)

The elves swarmed up the wall like two shadows and froze on top of it, with their bows drawn at the ready, covering Arnkh, Eel, and Markauz as they clambered over the obstacle. Then the dark ones jumped down into the count’s park and I was left alone. Egrassa had asked me to wait for a couple of minutes while they reconnoitered (meaning, while they got rid of anybody they came across). Well, I didn’t mind; I wasn’t going to weep bitter tears if the yellow-eyed archers took out a few patrols.

And that was when Kli-Kli showed up. I’ve no idea how the goblin managed to escape Miralissa’s vigilant eye, but a fact is a fact—the jester was lying there beside me in the bushes, stubbornly arguing that without his help I didn’t have a chance. The two minutes that the elf had given me were already long over, and I was still arguing with this little walking disaster.

“All right!” I said eventually. “You can go with me. But only as far as the house! If you make noise or get under my feet, I’ll strangle you with my own bare hands.”

Kli-Kli nodded.

“And if you fall behind, that’s your problem,” I warned him.

Without bothering to wait for an answer, I skipped out of the bushes, jumped up, and clung to the top of the wall with my fingertips. Fortunately, none of the count’s servants had thought of scattering broken glass along the wall—which in my opinion left a serious gap in their defenses. If that rotten crud had been there, not even my gloves could have saved me. Finely milled pigskin is no defense against sharp glass. And in any case, the fingers of my gloves had been cut off—it’s more convenient that way for working with locks.