Excellency, she did a lot of very positive things for us.”
“Such as?”
“Well, um, trade deals and the like. In fact, it was Lauris who found out about your new statue and suggested that we have it moved down from Spittle to put in the cit—Why are you looking at me like that, Excellency?”
“Never mind. It just seems curious then that she made such a nuisance of herself. It doesn’t really add up, does it?”
“No, Excellency. Not at all.”
“And now she’s probably up to something dodgy with our stamped scrolls, no doubt. What use would they be?”
The servant took a deep breath. “No use whatsoever inside the city , Excellency. As for foreign powers, well, I expect she could send a few bogus war declarations, but nothing any of the major cities would take seriously without a herald to back it up.”
“So no threat there, then. How long since she vacated the palace?”
Spires fidgeted nervously on the little platform. “Approximately two weeks, give or take a day,” he said.
Curfew shut his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. “And you only thought to tell me about it now?”
“Um, I didn’t want to alarm you, Excellency.”
“Is that right? I’m assuming you’ve taken steps to find this girl?”
“Of course, Excellency. We hired an investigator to track her down; we thought it might be better to work quietly so as not to attract undue attention.”
“Has he turned up anything?”
“Yes and no, Excellency, yes and no. He called at her house on North Street, aiming to search for some clue as to her whereabouts, but when he arrived, he found a gnome torching the place.”
Curfew’s expression twisted into the half smirk of the intrigued. “A gnome.”
“Yes, Excellency, a gnome.”
“And did he capture this gnome?”
“No, the report says that he made no attempt to do so. He suspected that if he followed this gnome , then maybe it would lead him to Lauris herself.”
“Hmm… a fair conclusion, I suppose. Is that all?”
“No, milord. The whole thing has become quite a bit more complicated. Mr. Obegarde, that’s the investigator, he’s been asking questions up at City Hall, and they say that this gnome is the caretaker at Karuim’s.”
Curfew’s expression suddenly froze. “That’s a Yowler building, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Excellency, which is why I thought it best to tell you about all this in the first place. We might have a real problem, here.”
“I see.” The viscount rose from his chair and, marching over to the window, stared out at the steeples of the great church. “This girl, this … Lauris. You must talk to everyone in the palace who worked with her, Spires,” he said. “Friends, enemies, rivals, I don’t care who they are, I want a complete report of her history. We need to know if she has or had any connection with the Yowler Brotherhood. Leave no stone unturned!”
The secretary bowed low and hurriedly vacated the chamber, leaving the viscount to his thoughts.
TWENTY-ONE
M ODESET AWOKE TO FIND himself in a crate. His eyes ached, and drums beat a steady rhythm inside his head. He moaned, brought a hand to his chin, and wiped away a crusted mixture of blood and spittle.
I’m a duke, he thought. I’m royalty! They can’t get away with treating me like this! I’m off to the palace, and Curfew will have to listen this time because I’m family and because I’m of the blood! Someone’s going to have to pay; someone like that elf, someone who, someone … SOMEONE GET ME OUT OF THIS BLOODY CRATE!
He aimed both feet at the lid and kicked frantically, elbowing the sides for good measure. Just when he was beginning to make some headway, he heard the faintest hint of a whisper. At first, he thought it might be the wind, but then, ever so slightly, the volume increased.
“Stpt.”
Modeset strained to listen.
“Opit—”
“What? Is someone out there?”
The next time the voice spoke, it was clearly audible. “Stop it,” it said.
“Such as?”
“Well, um, trade deals and the like. In fact, it was Lauris who found out about your new statue and suggested that we have it moved down from Spittle to put in the cit—Why are you looking at me like that, Excellency?”
“Never mind. It just seems curious then that she made such a nuisance of herself. It doesn’t really add up, does it?”
“No, Excellency. Not at all.”
“And now she’s probably up to something dodgy with our stamped scrolls, no doubt. What use would they be?”
The servant took a deep breath. “No use whatsoever inside the city , Excellency. As for foreign powers, well, I expect she could send a few bogus war declarations, but nothing any of the major cities would take seriously without a herald to back it up.”
“So no threat there, then. How long since she vacated the palace?”
Spires fidgeted nervously on the little platform. “Approximately two weeks, give or take a day,” he said.
Curfew shut his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. “And you only thought to tell me about it now?”
“Um, I didn’t want to alarm you, Excellency.”
“Is that right? I’m assuming you’ve taken steps to find this girl?”
“Of course, Excellency. We hired an investigator to track her down; we thought it might be better to work quietly so as not to attract undue attention.”
“Has he turned up anything?”
“Yes and no, Excellency, yes and no. He called at her house on North Street, aiming to search for some clue as to her whereabouts, but when he arrived, he found a gnome torching the place.”
Curfew’s expression twisted into the half smirk of the intrigued. “A gnome.”
“Yes, Excellency, a gnome.”
“And did he capture this gnome?”
“No, the report says that he made no attempt to do so. He suspected that if he followed this gnome , then maybe it would lead him to Lauris herself.”
“Hmm… a fair conclusion, I suppose. Is that all?”
“No, milord. The whole thing has become quite a bit more complicated. Mr. Obegarde, that’s the investigator, he’s been asking questions up at City Hall, and they say that this gnome is the caretaker at Karuim’s.”
Curfew’s expression suddenly froze. “That’s a Yowler building, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Excellency, which is why I thought it best to tell you about all this in the first place. We might have a real problem, here.”
“I see.” The viscount rose from his chair and, marching over to the window, stared out at the steeples of the great church. “This girl, this … Lauris. You must talk to everyone in the palace who worked with her, Spires,” he said. “Friends, enemies, rivals, I don’t care who they are, I want a complete report of her history. We need to know if she has or had any connection with the Yowler Brotherhood. Leave no stone unturned!”
The secretary bowed low and hurriedly vacated the chamber, leaving the viscount to his thoughts.
TWENTY-ONE
M ODESET AWOKE TO FIND himself in a crate. His eyes ached, and drums beat a steady rhythm inside his head. He moaned, brought a hand to his chin, and wiped away a crusted mixture of blood and spittle.
I’m a duke, he thought. I’m royalty! They can’t get away with treating me like this! I’m off to the palace, and Curfew will have to listen this time because I’m family and because I’m of the blood! Someone’s going to have to pay; someone like that elf, someone who, someone … SOMEONE GET ME OUT OF THIS BLOODY CRATE!
He aimed both feet at the lid and kicked frantically, elbowing the sides for good measure. Just when he was beginning to make some headway, he heard the faintest hint of a whisper. At first, he thought it might be the wind, but then, ever so slightly, the volume increased.
“Stpt.”
Modeset strained to listen.
“Opit—”
“What? Is someone out there?”
The next time the voice spoke, it was clearly audible. “Stop it,” it said.
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