Chapter 160: The Waiting Game

Acting normal turned out to take considerably more effort than being suspicious, which seemed unfair.

After breakfast, Renn sent us away one at a time instead of together. Sophie went first, saying something about the greenhouse. James waited ten minutes and wandered off toward the gallery. Daphne stayed with Elizabeth. I was told to go back to my room, and I did, which surprised everyone enough that I counted it as a success.

I let Dream Haven expand across the bed and lay down.

[You are not sleeping.]

’I can try.’

[Instructor Sorel’s session begins in fifteen minutes.]

’I’ve been awake all night.’

[Yes.]

’That was a complaint.’

[I am aware.]

I opened one eye. The System remained entirely unsympathetic, so I got up.

Sorel had taken the same room with the wooden floor. All five of us sat in our loose circle, looking exactly as rested as five people who hadn’t slept, and she walked between us without comment. If she was helping keep our secret, she was doing it by being exactly as strict as usual. I appreciated the consistency. Cultivation replaced a little of what sleep did, though not enough for me to forgive it, and it let me sit still with my eyes closed while everyone believed I was being productive.

I had barely settled when Sorel said, "Enough. All of you."

I opened my eyes. ’That was short.’

[Correct.]

’I wasn’t praising you.’

[I know.]

Back in my room, morning sunlight had reached the carpet, and someone was pushing a cleaning cart along the corridor. For perhaps half a minute everything looked ordinary. Then I remembered thirteen black collars, and stood up.

Someone knocked: three times, evenly spaced. Not James.

"Come in."

One of Merrow’s servants came in carrying folded clothes. I recognized him from breakfast: young, perhaps twenty, dark hair tied neatly at the back of his neck. He bowed.

"Lord Merrow asks that anything needed for tomorrow’s departure be collected before midday, my lord."

I looked at the clothes. "They’re mine."

"Yes, my lord."

"Then why are you bringing them to me?"

He hesitated. Apparently that hadn’t been the expected question. "They were cleaned."

"Oh."

He set them on the chair, and I watched his hands. Nothing unusual. No keys. That was becoming a problem.

"Do you know where the steward is?"

His head came up slightly. "Master Pell?"

So the steward had a name. "Yes."

"With Lord Merrow, I believe."

"All morning?"

"I couldn’t say, my lord."

I nodded as though the question had meant nothing, and he bowed again and left.

[That was poor.]

’I know.’

[You asked directly about the steward.]

’I know.’

[Without a reason.]

’I know.’

A pause.

[You appear tired.]

’Thank you.’

I sat on Dream Haven and thought about the collars. They needed keys, and someone had them: Merrow, his steward, whoever commanded his guards, or the guards who handled the prisoners. The two in the cellar hadn’t used keys, because they hadn’t taken anything off. One of them had simply threatened a girl’s dinner and left. The transport would be different. Off before transport, the guard had said, which meant whoever supervised it would bring the keys or already carry them. That was useful, and it was also hours away. I disliked plans that depended on waiting for the dangerous part to begin. Fortunately, waiting was one of my few real skills.

Someone knocked again. Then someone coughed, once, and after a pause, twice.

I opened the door. James stood outside.

"Really?"

"It worked."

"That doesn’t mean you should keep doing it."

"It absolutely means that."

He stepped inside and shut the door. "You look terrible."

"So do you."

"I always look good."

"No."

He ignored that. "Sophie saw something."

That got my attention. "What?"

"Not here. The gallery."

"That’s suspicious."

"So is me visiting your room."

"You already did that."

"Exactly."

There was a reason Elizabeth did the planning. We left separately.

***

The western gallery looked exactly as it had the day before: dead Merrows, tall windows over the northern courtyard, and nobody else in it. I stopped in front of the portrait of the ancestor who seemed personally offended at being painted.

James stopped three steps later and looked back. "What?"

"Nothing."

"Then why did you stop?"

"I’m looking at the painting."

He stared at me.

"You told me to act normal," I said.

"Nobody our age studies portraits voluntarily."

"Then I’m expanding expectations."

"Walk."

We walked. Sophie was by the far window with a book open in both hands, not reading it. Daphne stood beyond her, apparently studying a painting of an elderly man holding a dead bird.

"What happened?" I asked.

Sophie kept her eyes on the page. "From the greenhouse, I could see the north courtyard. Two of Merrow’s guards left their posts about twenty minutes ago. They went into the north wing together, and nobody replaced them."

That sounded good, which meant it probably wasn’t.

"Maybe they’re preparing the transport," said James.

"It’s morning," said Sophie.

"Preparation can happen in the morning."

"Useful."

"I try."

"Anything else?" asked Daphne.

Sophie lowered the book. "The servant with the trays. He went into the north wing carrying covered trays, and came back out without them about three minutes later."

Daphne’s expression changed. It had taken us longer than that just to reach the cellar.

"He didn’t go downstairs," I said.

"That’s what I thought. I saw him pass the upstairs windows."

James pushed away from the wall. "Another room."

"Maybe," said Daphne.

"The kitchens are feeding fifteen to twenty extra people," said Sophie. "Thirteen are in the cellar. If he’s taking food somewhere else..."

"Then the difference might not be guards," I finished.

Nobody spoke for a moment. Through the window, the north wing looked like an old, quiet building.

"The upper stair was blocked," said James.

"With a rope," I said.

"What?"

"A velvet rope."

He looked at me. "That isn’t blocked."

"Exactly."

Daphne was already moving. James caught her arm.

"No."

She looked at him.

"We agreed nobody acts alone."

"There are four of us."

"You know what I mean."

She looked down the corridor, and after a moment she said, "Renn."

James nodded. I sighed. We had become responsible, and much faster than I had expected.

***

Renn listened without interrupting. Sorel was with him again, and so was Elizabeth. The map from the night before had moved to a larger table, and it now held more marks than paper.

Sophie told it again. Renn tapped the upper floor of the north wing.

"You didn’t go in?"

"No," said Sophie.

"Good."

James looked wounded on Daphne’s behalf. Daphne pointed at the stair on the map.

"The rope is here."

Renn looked at me. "You saw it last night?"

"Yes."

"No guard?"

"No."

"And upstairs?"

"We didn’t check."

His eyes narrowed.

"I was trying to be responsible," I said.

"Don’t make it sound temporary."

"No promises."

Sorel rubbed her temple. Renn considered the map.

"If there’s another holding room upstairs, why keep them apart?"

"The children?" said Sophie.

I shook my head. "The children were in the cellar."

"A different clan?" said James.

"A different purpose," said Elizabeth. Everyone looked at her, and she tapped the cellar. "The people Alash found are injured, collared, and being prepared for something. If there’s another group upstairs, maybe Merrow wants them for something else."

"Or they aren’t prisoners at all," said Renn.

Elizabeth nodded. "That too."

I appreciated adults who remembered uncertainty. It kept the rest of us from becoming stupid.

"Can we check?" asked Sophie.

"Not now."

James let out a breath. Renn looked at him.

"You have a problem?"

"No. I was breathing."

"Do it quieter."

I nearly smiled.

"Merrow’s people are moving around inside that wing," said Renn. "That makes this the worst possible time to wander into it."

"The best time to learn something," said James.

"The worst time to get caught."

"Those can both be true."

"James."

James stopped. It remained impressive every time.

Elizabeth was looking out of the window. "What if we don’t go in?"

Renn glanced at her. "What are you thinking?"

"Merrow thinks we’re trapped here by the road, and he thinks we’re bored. He showed us the estate yesterday. We can ask to see something we haven’t seen."

"The north wing?" said Sophie.

"Not directly." Elizabeth turned from the window. "The library. Yesterday the steward told us it was being cleaned, so we couldn’t use it. One of the maids told me this morning where it is. It’s in the north wing, upstairs."

James frowned. "On the floor Merrow said was closed."

"Yes."

"Then it’s either a lie or a very convenient exception."

"If we ask to see it," said Elizabeth, "Merrow can refuse, and refusing tells us something. If he agrees, we get close to that upper floor without sneaking anywhere."

Renn thought about it. "And if he escorts you personally?"

"Then he’s occupied."

Sorel nodded slowly. "And his people have to behave as though nothing is wrong."

Renn looked at Elizabeth. "Don’t push."

"I won’t."

"Don’t improvise."

Elizabeth looked at James.

"Why are you looking at me?" he asked.

"No reason."

Renn sighed. "Fine."

***

Lord Merrow was in his study when Elizabeth sent the request, and he didn’t refuse. That was disappointing; I had hoped for something easy. Instead, twenty minutes later, all five of us were following one of his servants toward the north side of the house, because Elizabeth had developed a sudden interest in old books.

Merrow met us at the central stair. "Your Highness."

"I’m sorry to trouble you."

"Not at all. I would have shown you the library yesterday, if the cleaners had allowed it. The rest of that floor is closed, but the library sits over the old stone supports. It’s still sound." He smiled. "The collection isn’t what it was. My grandfather sold much of it during the famine years, but there are still some early border records your father might find interesting."

"I’d like to see them," said Elizabeth.

It all sounded entirely reasonable. I distrusted it at once.

The double doors Daphne and I had slipped through hours earlier stood open now, and my stomach tightened. Nobody looked at me. In daylight the wing seemed less threatening, which felt rude of it. Dust floated in narrow beams from the tall windows, the furniture was draped in white cloth, and a maid was polishing a table near the entrance. There were no guards and no prisoners, and nothing to suggest that thirteen people were locked beneath our feet.

At the velvet rope, Merrow lifted it himself. "Mind the third stair. The wood has warped."

I looked at Daphne. She didn’t look back.

The second floor was warmer. Five doors ran along the corridor, and three of them stood open: one onto a room of old furniture, one onto shelves of ledgers, and the third onto the library. Merrow went in with Elizabeth and Sophie, and James followed them. I didn’t. Daphne stopped beside me.

At the far end of the corridor, one door was closed. There were scratches around its lock, fresh ones. And I could smell something that wasn’t the salve: warm bread, meat, and under it, lamp oil, the way a room smells when a lamp has been burning in it for hours.

Daphne looked at me. I looked at the door.

Footsteps came from the library, and I turned away just before Merrow stepped back into the corridor.

"Lord Vortex?"

"Yes?"

"The library."

"Oh." I glanced inside. Books, hundreds of them. Terrible. "I was admiring the corridor."

Merrow smiled politely. "I’m afraid it’s less interesting than the books."

"That depends."

His eyes stayed on me for half a second too long. Then he turned back inside, and I followed him. Daphne came after me. Neither of us looked at the closed door.

***

The library was exactly as bad as I had expected. Elizabeth asked intelligent questions and Merrow answered them. Sophie found an old book about medicinal plants and became genuinely interested, which ruined the deception by making it convincing. James drifted toward the maps.

I stood by a window. The north courtyard lay directly below, and two guards were crossing it. One of them had a ring of keys at his belt. Most were plain iron, but one was black and long, with a small red stone set into its head, the same kind of stone as the one set into the front of each collar.

I straightened. The guard walked beneath the window and vanished under the overhang. I turned, and Daphne was already looking at me. I touched two fingers to my throat. Her eyes narrowed, and she looked out of the window in time to see him disappear.

One problem might have just become a person. That was usually easier.

"Alash," said Elizabeth.

I looked round. Merrow was watching me.

"You’ve been very quiet," he said.

"I didn’t sleep."

"None of us did," said James.

Merrow’s expression shifted, barely. Renn had warned us. Normal. I yawned.

"James snores."

James stared at me. "I do not."

"You do."

"My room is two doors away from yours."

"Exactly."

Sophie covered her mouth. Merrow smiled, actually smiled, and the tension left his face. James looked furious. It was worth it.

Elizabeth picked up another book. "Do you have anything on the old western boundary?"

Merrow turned to her, and Daphne moved closer to me.

"Key," she whispered.

"Yes."

"The guard."

"Yes."

"Can you remember his face?"

I looked down at the courtyard. It was empty. "Probably."

Daphne’s expression made it clear that probably was not acceptable.

"Yes," I said.

"Good."

She walked away. I had never been managed so efficiently in my life.

***

We stayed in the library for forty-three minutes. I counted. That wasn’t only because I was bored, though I was. It was also because the closed door opened once, twenty-nine minutes after we arrived. I heard the latch and looked toward the corridor. A servant came out, not the man with the trays but a woman with brown hair in a grey uniform, carrying nothing. She closed the door behind her, locked it, and dropped a small brass key into her apron. Her face was pale. She walked past the library without looking in.

Nobody else seemed to notice. Daphne did.

When Merrow finally led us back downstairs, the door at the end of the corridor was still shut, but now we knew three things. Something was inside. A servant had access to it. And whatever it was, the room was locked from the outside.

At the foot of the stairs I caught the salve again, faint, from below. Thirteen people underneath us, and something else above.

Merrow walked beside Elizabeth. "I hope the records were useful."

"Very."

"You may borrow anything you like before you leave." James looked back toward the library, and Merrow noticed. "Even the maps."

James brightened. I gave up on him.

In the central corridor, Merrow excused himself for a meeting with his steward, Master Pell. I watched him go. Elizabeth kept walking, and nobody spoke until we reached the guest wing. Renn was waiting. He took one look at our faces and opened his door.

"Inside."

***

"The collar key exists," I said.

Renn looked at me. "You’re sure?"

"No."

Daphne looked at me. I sighed.

"Probably."

"Describe it."

"Black iron. Long. A red stone in the head, like the stones on the collars. One of the guards in the north courtyard carries it."

"Which guard?"

I described him. Daphne corrected the height. Apparently details mattered. Sorel wrote it all down.

"And upstairs?" said Renn.

"A locked room at the end of the second-floor corridor," said Sophie.

"A servant came out of it," said Daphne. "A woman. Brown hair, grey uniform, brass key."

"No tray," I added.

"Anything you could smell?"

"Bread. Meat. Lamp oil. A lamp’s been burning in there for a while."

"Blood?"

Daphne shook her head. "Not from upstairs."

"Medicine?"

"No," I said.

Renn leaned back. "So we still don’t know what’s inside."

"No," said Elizabeth. "But Merrow told us that floor was closed."

"To guests," said Renn.

James frowned. "Someone is locked in there."

"We don’t know that."

"The door locks from the outside."

"That means the door locks from the outside."

James looked at him. Renn looked back. James surrendered. I admired Renn more every hour.

Sorel tapped the sketch of the guard. "If he carries the collar key, he becomes the priority when the transport begins."

"Can we take it before then?" asked Sophie.

Renn shook his head. "If it disappears now, they’ll know."

"So we wait."

"Yes."

Nobody liked it. Somewhere outside, a bell rang once. Midday. Half the day was gone, and I wasn’t the only one who looked at the window.

"How long until sunset?" asked Elizabeth.

"Six hours," said Sorel.

James let out a breath. Daphne looked toward the north wing. Sophie closed her book. I sat down, and everyone looked at me.

"What?"

James pointed. "You’re sitting."

"Yes."

"You haven’t complained."

"I’ve had a difficult morning."

He stared at me. I adjusted Dream Haven behind my back. Renn turned back to the map.

"Six hours," he said. "Nobody gets impatient."

Everyone looked at James, and James looked offended. Then Renn looked at me as well.

I frowned. "This is becoming insulting."

[Host.]

’Don’t.’

[I said nothing.]

’You were going to.’

A pause.

[Possibly.]

I closed my eyes. Six hours. Somewhere below us, thirteen people were waiting. Somewhere above them, behind a locked door, someone else might be waiting too. And somewhere on the estate, a guard was walking around with a black key hanging openly from his belt, because he had no reason to think anyone knew what it opened.

For the moment, that was our advantage. By sunset, it would have to be enough.