“What in the name of Hades happened to you?!” was all I could think to say.

“They made me, Milord! I tried not to, but I couldn't. I just . . . I couldn't. I'm so sorry,” a blood-streaked Garrett wept tearfully as he attempted to stand. “I told them to leave, and they grabbed me and dragged me from my shop, and . . . they-”

Gods! I couldn't believe I was looking at the same man whose shop I'd left a mere hour ago. He was a wreck, someone you might veer away from in the street out of fear that you might catch whatever horrifying and debilitating disease they'd fallen victim to.

“Shopkeeper Barclay,” asked Talia softly, her hands gently but insistently pressing the blood-soaked shopkeeper back into the chair he'd been sitting in, “can you tell Lord Tucat what you told me, just now?”

“Yes, absolutely!” I stammered. “Garrett, in the name of all the gods, tell me - who did this to you?”

“Milord,” he said, almost choking simply from the effort it took to talk, “I know not. They were strangely dressed, and spoke in a way I couldn't understand at times. They came in shortly after you'd left, asking me what you'd wanted with me. When I told them it was between myself and my Lord, they closed the blinds, and . . . they-”

“Did they sound all phlegmy? Silhouette of antlers on their cloaks?”

He nodded.

“Blackstaag,” I snarled. “Son of a bitch! I'll tear that miserable bastard apart!”

“And then?” asked Talia, her voice gentle and patient. “Please continue, Garrett.”

“It . . . I'm so sorry, Milord! You even warned me people were after him, but I didn't think someone would . . . I didn't want to tell them, but they made me! They said they wouldn't stop unless I told them exactly what you'd come and asked about, and then,” he took a deep breath that was more than half shudder, tears mixing with the blood weeping from his wounded cheek, “then they made me tell them everything else. Milord, please . . . you must save him!”

Connor . . .

“How many, and how long ago?” I demanded.

“Maybe four, and I . . . I don't know if I can rightly say. T'was five minutes or so after you'd left that it happened, and once they were gone I left my shop and flagged down a carriage.” He gave a bit of a start. “Oh gods, I forgot to pay them! I'm so stupid. Milord, please, I'll be right back . . . they're probably still outside right now, wondering where I've-”

He began to stand out of his chair, but Talia's gently insistent hand pushed him back down.

“Please, don't move, Garrett,” said Talia. “Lord Tucat will take care of the carriage in a moment, and a healer's already been sent for.” She turned to me. “I assumed you wouldn't object.”

“Garrett, I want you to do exactly what this young lady says,” I said, nodding to Talia. “Everything will be taken care of . . . you did the right thing coming here. For now, what I need you to do is to tell me exactly what you told those knights.”

“Aye, Milord. I told them that you were asking about Connor. His name's Connor Jaedemus, he's the son of an inventor by the name of Uriah. A foreigner, and Lord.”

“Jaedemus,” I mused, mind's eye picturing the green smudge Cyrus had shown me. “A jade mouse. That's what it was. Why have I never heard of him?”

“Died near five years ago, Milord, after his territory was mostly taken away. So I've heard, I didn't actually know about it at the time. Connor, he's the one who told me about his father, mostly. If . . . if I hadn't been so thick-headed! You'd told me he was in danger, and I knew you wouldn't hurt him, but he made me promise.” He shook his head ruefully. “This is all my fault, Milord.”

“Look, there isn't time for-” I began warningly.

“Garrett,” Talia interrupted, giving me another of her pointed looks, “Lord Tucat knows you feel terrible that you doubted him, but if he's going to be able to do anything about helping Connor, he needs to know as much as you can tell him, as quickly as possible.”

I decided that whenever possible, I should keep my big yap shut and let Talia do the talking. Garrett was already looking at her more than me, possibly due to the murderous expression on my face.

“I . . . I told them where Connor is staying, Milord, where they might be able to find him. Lately he's been staying in an abandoned Ascetic's tower on Hunter's Lane, near the Library. Gods, they've probably already caught him by now. Or killed him, and it's all my fault! If I hadn't-”

“Garrett, listen to me,” I said, grabbing him by both shoulders so I could look him straight in his puffy, swollen eyes, “he probably isn't there. I know the tower you're talking about, and I tracked him there, spooked him. If he's worried or scared, he'll probably avoid that place.” I shook him slightly for emphasis, lowering my voice. “Was there anything else? Anyplace you can think of where he'd feel safe? Anything else you might have told them?”

“Yes, Milord. They told me if I was lying and he wasn't there, they'd come back.” He swallowed in a manner that hurt me just to listen to it. “I told them about his old place as well. There's a run-down keep on Coronation Rise, the one with a bell tower and no bell.”

“I think I know the place you mean. Large iron fence, two dead trees, spooky as all Hades?”

He nodded at me.

The two places were a good distance away from each other. If Blackstaag's knights had gone to one and found it empty . . .

“The knights who roughed you up – did they have a carriage?”

“I . . . don't think so, Milord,” Garrett said, appearing to think a moment. “When I mentioned where he might be, one of them said something and hurried outside. I heard no horses when they arrived, and when they dragged me out and started to kick . . .” He closed his eyes firmly, as if he were reliving the painful memory for a brief moment. “No, I couldn't see a carriage, Milord. I think they were on foot.”

“Hot damn. Okay, Garrett, listen to me. Those two places are a good distance apart. I think Connor wasn't at the tower, and if they went there first then we've probably still got a chance, so I want you to relax. Talia is going to take care of you until I come back, alright?”

He nodded, looking as though he were torn between sleeping, weeping, and simply falling down in front of me, dead.

“Talia?”

“Milord?”

“If he can remember any additional details that might be helpful, please make a note of them. And please do what you think is best for poor Garrett here. Bring him anything you feel is necessary, or arrange for it to be brought here, at your discretion,” I said, pulling an ornate key from my pocket and holding it out to her. “There's a strongbox hidden under the liquor cabinet in the dining hall, it should contain enough gold for anything you may require. Make certain that the blue brandy decanter is opened before unlocking it. Lock is quarter-turn left, then a half-turn right, and be certain to leave the key in the lock when you're opening the lid. If you hear a creaking noise, hit the floor and lie as flat as possible.”

Talia took the key with a demure bob of her head, looking a bit nervous. “Thank you, Milord.”

I took a step away from the two of them, turning towards the doors, and I stopped. I turned back, torn.

“Talia,” I began.

“We'll talk,” she said with a quick nod, “I promise. Go.”

Nodding back, I turned and bolted through the doors and down the main hallway, sprinting like mad.

I cursed this new development. While he wasn't smart enough to figure out who it was he was looking for, Blackstaag had arranged to have me tailed, probably because he knew I was looking for the individual who had stolen his mother's ashes, and furthermore, he knew that I might be bright enough to find him.

Bright as I was, it would appear I wasn't bright enough to avoid being tailed, and one of my tenants had paid the price. I pictured Garrett's injuries in my mind's eye, and I felt my lip curl in anger.

At the end of the hall, I turned hard to the right, grabbing the door trim and only barely managing to stay upright, bursting into the room where I'd left my knights waiting patiently. All faces turned to me as I entered, expressions of slight surprise worn by each.

“Okay people, new plan! Forget everything I just told you! You'll still be very well paid, but this just got a whole hell of a lot more dangerous. I've just found out that the kid we're after is also being hunted down by the knights of Lord Blackstaag, and may already be in their possession. They do not have the same interest in keeping this boy unharmed, and I'm putting that mildly. These same knights, I've recently learned, have just assaulted and beaten a shopkeeper operating in my territory, one who is under my protection.”

I nodded at their reaction as they looked to each other, surprise plainly visible on their faces. Even during a territory war between Lords, that sort of thing wasn't very common at all.

“Right. So, as you may well suspect, I'm angry. Very angry. In fact, if I had to describe it, I'd have to say that I'm bloody infuriated, multiplied by really, really pissed off. Go back to quarters and fetch whatever weapons you consider most familiar. Swords, ax, sling, anything you feel comfortable inflicting grievous bodily harm with. Our first priority is making sure this kid is unharmed and safely in our custody, but I would also like to let Lord Blackstaag know how I feel about the behavior of his knights. Specifically, if any of these knights make it back to their Lord on their own two feet later this evening, I'll be very, very disappointed.” I waved a gesture at the door behind them. “Equip yourselves, be back here and ready for action in five minutes. Go.”

“Yes, Milord!” they shouted back at me, turning as one and moving quickly towards the back entrance. I turned and ran back out the door I'd just arrived through, heading to the basement stairs.

As I ran, I did some quick math.

I wasn't certain how good Blackstaag's knights would be when it came to defending themselves, or how courageous they'd actually be. They'd ganged up on a lone shopkeeper, which didn't take much in the way of courage, but didn't necessarily mean they'd run at the sight of us, either.

Garret saw four, but there may have been more sent for from the sounds of it. I had five knights, myself, and Cyrus. Not bad. Theo wouldn't be able to help, considering this newest development. Helping Tucat knights in what amounted to a street brawl would be so uncharacteristic of him and his own knights that it would surely be noticed. Additionally, if things didn't work out here, I would likely still need him to be on reasonable terms with Lord Blackstaag. With the Garmuthian already hinting at assassination, Theo acting as a co-conspirator was an advantage I couldn't let go of.

I ground my teeth. Here I was, best friends with one of the most feared and respected duelists in the city, someone who could likely take on any of Blackstaag's knights and make them look silly, and now that I needed all the swordsmen I could get my hands on, he wasn't in a position to help.

I flew down the stairs and through the booby-trapped hallway that led to the exercise hall, muttering dark curses under my breath and practically bursting through my heavy wooden door. Cyrus and Theo turned in unison.

“Cyrus! Get your sword on, we're leaving. We've got a lead on this kid, his name's-”

“Connor Jaedemus!” Cyrus interrupted excitedly.

I stopped, mid-stride.

How the hell did he figure that out? I'd left him maybe five minutes ago. What sort of arcane information sources did my Knight-Captain have access to, anyways?

“Cyrus,” I asked my rather smug-looking Knight-Captain, “are you perhaps related to Prince Tenarreau?”

“Milord?”

“Never mind. Yes, that's his name. Did you find out anything else in the whole five minutes that I was gone?”

“A little, Milord. Connor's the only son of Uriah Jaedemus, a Lord whose name I came across while looking into some high-end devices that we thought the thief may have been using. Platinum was the key. He was an inventor, and apparently quite a good one. I started checking the list of inactive Lords, and other names I'd come across recently. You may be interested to know where Jaedemus Keep is located, though. It's an old building-”

“ . . . with a bell tower that has no bell, creepy-looking as hell, down on Coronation Rise,” I guessed aloud.

Now it was Cyrus's turn to look surprised. Theo favored me with an odd look as well.

“Milord, how did you know that?”

I summarized the new situation for both of them in record time, the words pouring out of my mouth in a flood. By the time I was done, Cyrus had hastily discarded his notes and assorted papers, and was re-buckling the sword belt he'd taken off earlier.

In addition, and for reasons I couldn't fathom, I saw that Theo had unbuckled his belt and removed his trousers, and was now in the process of speedily removing his jerkin.

Cyrus and I both stopped what we were doing, put on a pair of baffled expressions, and stared at Theodore.

“I'm coming with you, Vince,” he said, simply, reaching for the pair of black climbing pants that he'd left laying on the floor nearby. “Cyrus, do you have anything on you that might work as a hair-tie?”

“Theo, you can't! My house knights will recognize you from our various scuffles, and our whole-”

“Vincent, remember back when you were telling me to shut up?”

“It-”

“This is a chance to get your father's book back. You got my father's sword back for me. You need as many swords as you can muster right now, and I'm not going to let something like a silly practical joke we're playing on the rest of Harael get in the way of recovering that book! What's more important, honestly? Getting your book back, saving this kid, and getting in the good graces of the Prince? Or being able to continue scowling ferociously at me in the streets, calling me nasty names?”

“It's more than that, Theo! Everything we've worked for up to this point-”

“ . . . is worth giving up for an opportunity like this! Never mind the fact that you have no idea what kind of training these guys you're up against have had, and I don't particularly care for the idea of simply letting you march into danger while I stand by and do nothing! So . . . shut up! I'm coming with you, and that's that.”

“Theo-”

“Oh, and the name's not Theo,” he said. “It's Trevor. I'm the newest of your house knights, just signed up yesterday. Isn't that right, Cyrus?”

“Uhm, that's right?” Cyrus said dubiously, looking the slightest bit confused. “Trevor, is it?”

“No, no . . . ees Tle-voor,” Theo said, now speaking in the most ridiculous accent I'd ever heard.

“Theo, you-” I began, bleakly.

“Theo, like de Haundsing? Patooey!” he said, making a small production of spitting on the floor, his accent even more outrageous than before. “I speet upon de vile Lourd Haundsing! He ees scum de tourd!”

“But-”

“Not up for discussion, Vince, so stop wasting time,” he said pulling on his black climbing shirt once he'd removed the harness portion. “I'll tie my hair, wear a scarf over my face, I've even got a wig in my library if you've got a minute. I'll bloody well borrow a dagger from your man Cyrus and shave my damn beard off if I have to, but I'm coming with you. Getting your book back and putting an end to this gods-be-damned situation is the most important thing right now.” He lifted his chin towards me briefly, eyes fixed on my shoulder. “Give me your cloak.”

“My cloak?”

“It's black, and it's got the Tucat crest on it. The climbing gear is black, with the cloak it'll look kind of like a uniform. Hell, with all the black I'm wearing, your house knights might end up mistaking me for Cyrus.” Theo held his hand out impatiently.

Sighing, I reached for the collar of my good three-quarter cloak and unclasped it, pulling it off and holding it out towards my friend.

“I swear, if you get a drop of blood on this . . .”

“We'll wash it,” he said, his face splitting into a grin. “Gimme.”

I handed over my cloak with a shake of my head.

“Thank you, Theo. You don't know how much I appreciate this.”

“I know exactly how much you appreciate this,” he corrected me, quickly donning the cloak.

“Milord,” Cyrus said, finger hovering over the map we'd become familiar with these past few days, “the monk's tower is over here, and if Blackstaag's men have started heading towards Jaedemus Keep, they've likely taken Salt Lane to Corby, and then traveled up Corby directly to Coronation.”

“And if they've already been, and are returning to Blackstaag Keep?”

Cyrus frowned, eyes scouring the streets and buildings on the vellum in front of him. “They'd still take Corby, heading South as they came back, past Salt until they got to Yellow Shoal. Quickest way to their territory. Or,” he grimaced slightly, “they might head North on Corby instead, so they could get on to Deerfoot, which is much wider. They'd only go North if they had a carriage, though.”

“We're fairly certain that they don't, but let's remember that. Okay Cyrus, pick out the quickest path to Corby and let's be off. If we don't see them, we'll head to Jaedemus Keep as quickly as we can and hope we've beaten Blackstaag's men there. If we encounter them on the way, we stop them. If we haven't seen them after fifteen minutes or so of looking around various streets, we head for Blackstaag Keep and assume we'll find them en route.”

“What should we do if they've got the kid, Connor?”

“I consider that pretty unlikely. This kid's tricky, and can hide himself fairly well. I think it'll take more than a bunch of thugs like the ones Blackstaag's hired as knights to pull something like that off, but if they do have him, recovering him and keeping him safe is our biggest priority.” I took a deep breath. “Are we ready to go? I expect there's five knights anxiously waiting for us upstairs.”

“Ready!” said Theo, strutting forward and tossing his cloak (well, my cloak) to one side before standing dramatically before us. “How does this look?”

“That,” I said, impressed despite myself, “is not bad.”

He'd wet his hair thoroughly with water from my drinks cabinet before binding it with a leather thong, giving similar treatment to his beard before tying it into a short, hasty braid. The cloak had been designed to fall almost to my heels, and thus with Theo's broad shoulders it only managed to hang to his mid-calf. With the scowl-like expression he was now wearing, and without his usual fairly warm, colorful attire, he looked like a completely different person.

“See? We'll be fine,” he said, buckling the last of his belts around his waist. “Just remember – Trevor. With an 'L'.”

“Right. Let's go.”

“Uh, Vincent,” Theo said, looking a tad awkward, “before we go, there is one thing. Fairly important.”

“Yes?” I said, trying to hide my impatience.

“Well, I always come here via the tunnel entrance, and I've heard you mention the hallway guarding this room dozens of times, all the traps and whatnot. Since I can't very well go back to my keep, and because I won't be much good to you if I'm dead, I guess what I mean to ask is this,” he said, looking troubled and glancing towards the massive wooden door leading to the aforementioned hallway. “How in the name of Hades' hammock do I get out of this room in one piece?”