Chapter 3 #2
“Yeah, but does it bother you? You know, not having a relationship with them—that they never showed an interest in one.” Rylana wondered if Sylin, after she’d left the wolves and learned more of the world and how to survive among the two-legged species, had ever attempted to find a place among her people.
Since her comrade rarely spoke of her past, Rylana knew less about her than one might expect, considering they’d been in the same unit for more than ten years.
Sylin hesitated. “Does it bother you not to have a relationship with your father?”
“It shouldn’t. I made the choice to leave.”
Sylin gazed over at her.
“I might sometimes wish things had worked out differently,” Rylana admitted softly, pushing rain-damp hair away from her eyes.
She needed to either visit a barber or let it grow out.
Even though she had no interest in attracting Vormalt—the married but in an “open relationship” Vormalt—his digs at her short hair made her wonder if she should let it lengthen again.
It wasn’t as if, in Tranquility, many enemies would leap upon her, grab it, and jerk her head back.
“I might sometimes wish things had worked out differently with my people,” Sylin admitted with a shrug, then pointed ahead.
They’d come up the slope and onto the top of the bluff, the low stone wall around the front half of the Avandar Estate to the left, the wrought-iron bars rising from it to create a fence. “That gate is open.”
Rylana blinked a few times, focusing on the spot where the driveway turned off the road. On this side of the lake, gnomish fire-fliers didn’t buzz around lighting streetlamps after dark, so it was hard to make out details. At least with mundane human vision.
“My father wouldn’t have left it open,” Rylana said, trusting her friend’s superior elven eyes. “If the butler is here, he wouldn’t have either.”
“Maybe your castle is being robbed, and the crewmen were correct, that the glow has to do with the security system. You said there is one, right?”
“Yes.” It crossed Rylana’s mind to wonder if her father would think more favorably of her and her life’s choices if she stopped a robbery while he was gone.
Then she reminded herself that she didn’t care what he thought.
Besides, it had been almost two hours since she’d first noticed the glow, told Jildarin where she was going, walked to the public dock, and waited for a ferry to take them across the lake.
Any burglars would have long since departed.
Even though she doubted they would run into anyone, Rylana approached the gate warily and peered around the stone post before committing to entering. A faint nicker sounded. There were kennels and stables in the back of the property, but the noise sounded closer, near the front doors.
“Someone’s waiting in the shadows up there,” Sylin whispered. “With two horses.”
“Let’s find out who.”
Feeling bolstered by having Sylin with her—even without weapons, her comrade was a formidable foe—Rylana headed up the drive.
Other than the faint beam still extending up through the roof on the back half of the castle, there weren’t any magical or mundane lanterns brightening the property, which made her wonder if Father had taken the butler with him.
As soon as she picked out the two horses, a man gasped and ran away from them.
Not hesitating, Rylana chased after the intruder.
Sylin joined her, and they ran across the damp grass and around one of the corner towers of the castle.
The man stumbled as he glanced back, but he kept going, sprinting toward the lake.
He wasn’t heading toward the only trail that led downward.
Would he jump off the bluff and risk the fall to the beach and the lake below?
Sylin caught up with the man as he looked like he would try, and she sprang upon him first, kicking the back of one of his knees as her weight landed on his shoulders.
He pitched forward with a pained grunt, and Rylana also caught up.
Hounds in the kennel heard the commotion and barked.
That meant someone had to be on the estate, caring for them.
Rylana hoped nothing had happened to the butler or whoever her father had left behind.
She knelt beside the downed man, debating if she should draw her utility knife in case he squirmed free and she needed to defend herself.
It was her only weapon that wasn’t tied by a tranquility ribbon.
But they’d passed one of the peacekeepers’ ever-present magical pillars on the way up here, and a cry of pain or even a scream of fear could set off the alarm and bring uniformed troops.
Besides, Sylin had managed to come down on top of the man and pin him.
He tried to shove her off, but she jerked one of his arms behind his back, adding discomfort to her weight and keeping him face down in the grass.
“Who are you, and what are you doing on Avandar Estate?” Rylana asked.
“Querik,” he said. “I didn’t do anything. I swear by the new god and the old gods. All of them!” The man shifted, trying to roll away from Sylin, but she kept him pinned. She didn’t weigh a lot, but she had inherited the legendary elven strength. “Do you have a knife?” the man added.
“Ten of them,” Sylin said.
“Is that all?” Rylana asked her. “I distinctly remember the peacekeepers being bemused—or maybe exasperated—as they waited for you to produce them all and tuck them into that case so they could tie up your arsenal.”
“I didn’t put them all in the case. I saved some to use on burglars.”
“I’m not a burglar,” the man protested. “I’m supposed to hold the horses. That’s all.”
“Whose horses?” Rylana asked.
“I can’t— I’m not even sure…”
Sylin pressed an elbow into the man’s spine and leaned on it. “Answer Rylana’s questions.”
“Vernest Vormalt,” the man blurted with another pained gasp.
“Ogre bukok,” Rylana muttered. That was what she’d been afraid of, that Vormalt was involved and that her arrival in the city had somehow spurred him into this behavior. “What’s he doing? Did he trip the wards? Is that what the glow is from?”
It occurred to her that Vormalt might be inside and in danger if he had stumbled into the magical security system. But if he’d sneaked in, he deserved punishment.
“I don’t know what made that,” the man said.
“It wasn’t until after Lord Vormalt went in.
Nearly an hour after. The air got all still and creepy for a minute, and then the glow started up.
I called for him, but he didn’t answer, and I wasn’t going in there.
” His eyes rolled in the direction of the windows along the back of the castle, the blue glow still visible behind them.
It was more intense through the glass than the faded beam emanating through the rooftop.
That was the library, Rylana realized, remembering Vormalt’s interest in it.
“Like I said, he didn’t answer my call,” the man added. “I’m not sure… He might not be all right.”
“I hope he’s not all right,” Rylana said, though she didn’t know if that was true. She didn’t have feelings for Vormalt anymore but didn’t necessarily wish him ill. “You work for him, I take it? Do you know what he’s doing in there? What’s his goal?”
Rylana supposed she could go in herself, find Vormalt, and question him, but he wouldn’t likely answer truthfully. She also didn’t know if the wards would accept her presence in the castle.
“He didn’t say, just that he’d been waiting a long time to bring the power and fortune to his family that it deserves.”
Rylana scratched her jaw. The way Vormalt had spoken of his archaeology passion and digs he’d gone on, she’d thought the centuries-old castle had something to do with that, that his interest in the library had to do with an old book he’d seen there when he’d been visiting her.
But would an archaeological discovery bring power and fortune? Recognition in the field, maybe…
“How long were you supposed to wait out here?” Rylana asked. “Did he say he’d just be a few minutes or what?”
“More than that, I think. He needed some time for… he didn’t say. That’s all I know. I swear!”
“Do you believe him?” Sylin asked Rylana. “Or do you want me to apply more pressure?”
Rylana shook her head. They were lucky the nearest pillar hadn’t already sensed the man’s discomfort and started alarming.
“Let him go, please,” Rylana said. “We’ll find Vormalt, and you can apply pressure to him.”
“Won’t that be a delight?” Sylin knelt back so the man could rise.
“He’s a bit of a popinjay. You might enjoy it.”
It took the man a moment to realize he was being allowed to stand.
“Take the horses, and return them to Vormalt’s estate,” Rylana told him. “The peacekeepers will be the ones to escort him home, so he won’t need a ride.”
“Er, yes, ma’am. My lady. Miss, uhm.”
“Rylana. This is my father’s castle.”
“Oh,” he blurted and looked at Sylin.
“That’s his new security guard. She’s very efficient. Don’t show up here again.”
“No, my lady!” The man ran toward the gate.
“Security guard?” Sylin murmured.
“You didn’t think board at the boathouse would be free, did you?”
“Well, you mentioned that it wasn’t furnished and didn’t have amenities.”
“Yeah, but that lack excited you, didn’t it?”
“A little bit, maybe.”
Rylana headed back around the castle toward the front door. Sylin followed her, and they climbed the wide marble steps, stone gargoyles observing them from posts to either side. One of the two large mahogany doors stood open, and a faint and very inhuman moan wafted out.
“That’s not Vormalt,” Rylana said with certainty and stopped on the threshold.
“Maybe your castle is haunted.”
“That sounded laughable and ludicrous when we were across the lake.”
Another eerie moan wafted out.
“And now?”
“Whatever is making that noise, it’s not laughable.”