Yup, it was still raining.

With the various herbs I'd ingested to keep myself from sneezing explosively (not the sort of thing you want to do when trying not to be noticed) I was feeling okay, but I knew that feeling would pass fairly soon. We'd started quite a bit later than we had the previous night, believing the thief would stick to within a couple of hours of his previous successes - right around two hours past midnight. That was about when Theo estimated he'd gotten robbed, as well as the time when Cyrus had taken his ill-fated trip to the kitchen the night my book had gone missing.

My book and a few other things, as it turned out. Theo's intuition had been correct – I had lost some other nick-knacks the night Dad's journal was stolen. Among the missing items were a heavy silver ring that had been scorched on one side (funny story, that), and a pair of sapphire cuff-links, neither of which I'd bothered to invisibly mark with the Tucat seal.

The thief had also walked off with about thirty grey marks. I had almost completely overlooked the fact that coins had gone missing, mostly because the stack of gold coins they'd been sitting beside had not been touched.

That was the thing that made me want to scream in frustration. I'm the kind of guy who needs things to make sense, and everywhere I'd looked lately things were most definitely not making sense. Why would a thief take thirty greys when they could have just as easily walked off with three gold instead? There had been more gold than grey sitting on the desk – I probably wouldn't have noticed a few coins in the gold stack going missing, even if I'd been looking for it. Why burden yourself with more weight and make your theft more obvious by stealing an entire stack of coins if you can grab a couple from a larger pile that are worth the same exact amount? Why not take all the money, since there was no way I'd be able to identify the coins later?

Of course, I refused to even entertain the nightmarish thought that had been leaping around my brain once I'd noticed the gold had been untouched. Wraiths were nothing more than pseudo-religious nonsense talked about by flitleaf-smoking boys who wanted to scare themselves silly with fireside stories, perhaps hoping to encourage a girl to huddle a little bit closer to them. It'd take much more than a stack of grey marks going missing to convince me of the existence of gold-fearing spirits like wraiths, or any other sort of superstitious garbage.

Besides, I've always heard it was bad luck to be superstitious . . .

The two hours of pondering on a rooftop hadn't dredged up any explanations or shed insight into my various unanswered questions. There were a frightening number of knights roaming the street this evening, all brandishing ferocious scowls in addition to the Blackstaag crest, the symbol of two antlers on a yellow ocher background adorning the front of each of their cloaks. Yet another frustrating thing – I was actually trying to do something nice for a fellow Lord for a change, and my effectiveness was being impaired by the knights of the very Lord I was trying to help. I could avoid them easily enough, it was true . . . I just hate trying to do two things at once.

My wristband began to buzz. It was time to check in on Theo. So maybe it was more like three things at once . . .

I stowed away all of the things I use to observe from a distance, perched as I was on the top of the stately manor I'd chosen to nest upon that evening. The roof had a wicked slope, so it wasn't exactly a smart choice considering all of the rain and the increased chance of slipping, but it had the best view of Blackstaag's keep. I also prefer sneaking about in unlikely or dangerous places, because nobody thinks to look for people there.

Theo was on the other side of Blackstaag Keep watching the side I couldn't see. I checked the small little rooftop snare trap I'd hooked up to cover my blind side, briefly debated bringing my silver tea canteen with me before deciding to leave it hidden away from the rain, and headed towards Theo's spot.

Five minutes and several rooftops later, I was carefully climbing up the metal gutter that was feeding water into the streets below, looking over the lip to check the flat warehouse roof Theo had been staking out for a glimpse of where he might be.

No sign of him. Weird.

Nimbly pulling myself up, I took note of everything I could see from where I was. After a half-minute or so of scanning the area and finding no trace of my friend anywhere, I walked over to the spot I'd last seen him to inspect it further.

Nothing. I felt a brief stab of concern. I checked the small piece of wood in my vest pocket, which still appeared to be solid and unbroken. That meant that Theo's stick, the twin of the one I was hanging on to, was also unbroken. I would have heard or felt it had it been broken, but checking made me feel better.

“Did you see something?” I mused aloud, standing where I'd last seen him, eyes scanning the rooftops for anything interesting that could have pulled my friend from his perch. “Why wouldn't you have signaled if you saw something?”

“Help.”

I froze, startled by the voice I was barely able to make out over the roar of the rain. Eyes quickly darting to and fro, I attempted to locate the source of the voice. It sounded close.

“Please help,” I heard the quiet, even voice say once more. I got a better sense of where it was coming from this time, and inspected that direction. Eventually I noticed a piece of rope that had been tied to the base of some stonework near the side of the building, overlooking the street below. I walked up to it and looked over the lip.

Mystery solved.

“Theo,” I said, furiously suppressing the grin that was practically begging to take over my entire face. “What the deuce are you doing down there?”

“Help,” he said quietly and calmly, no trace of panic in his voice. “Please. My arm is getting numb.”

Indeed, I could see the fingers nearest me turning a bit purple as he hung there, suspended by a combination of his arm, his cloak, and a length of knot-rope that had jammed in his new chest-harness somehow. It was snagged badly enough that he'd been unable to continue repelling down the wall into the alley below, and his cloak had managed to tangle both the knot-rope that he was hanging from and his entire right arm, preventing him from being able to do much of anything about it.

“Dear goodness, Theo,” I said, finding a position to brace myself properly so I could pull my entangled friend back onto the roof. “You just had to try out the harness, didn't you?”

“There's a knight, Blackstaag's . . . he started coming up here periodically after midnight or so. I hid from him a few times before, watched him pass by, but the last time he came I was exposed. I figured looping a rope over something solid and hanging over the edge might hide me from view, but . . .” I think he attempted a shrug at that point, I can't be certain.

Pulling him up took a few minutes, what with him weighing nearly twice what I did. I managed to refrain from laughing at my burly friend as I pulled him up to the roof, and he returned the favor by not asking me to hurry as I slowly raised him inch by agonizing inch.

“How long have you been stuck?” I grunted upon finally seeing his face appear over the side.

“Long enough to make my arm go all useless, maybe five minutes or so. He probably won't be back for another fifteen, so we should be fine.” He hiked his leg up over the lip of the building once it was possible for him to do so, and the rope I was pulling went slack as he rolled his way towards me and onto the roof. “Wasn't particularly dextrous of me though, I have to say.”

“All things in time, my friend,” I grinned, my chest heaving as I attempted to get my breath back from the past few minutes of effort while Theo worked on untangling himself. “And don't let it bother you. Someday I'll tell you the worst climbing predicament I've ever gotten into . . . you won't feel nearly as bad once you've heard that story.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

“Maybe once you've done something like this about three or four times. It's really quite embarrassing, and I still feel like being taken seriously as your climbing instructor for the moment. So, catching up – the last hour. Did you see anything?”

“Not really, especially the last five minutes. Lots of knights though, all paired up. Nice cutlery they've got, too.”

“I've noticed,” I said. “Cyrus had mentioned that Garmuthians play things a little differently than us, and they've all probably been given very explicit instructions regarding what to do if they see me.”

“Once this is all settled, you may have some unfinished business with Blackstaag as well, given what I've seen.”

“What, knights roaming the streets, looking for me? That can be forgiven . . .”

“Not that, no. He's got some of those patrols actually going into your territory.”

I frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Sure as I'm standing . . . err, sitting here on this roof,” he said, waving a sodden arm at our inglorious surroundings while flexing and stretching his other. “Made a special point of watching one pair cross Yellow Shoal Road and march right into your neighborhood, didn't see them again for ten full minutes.”

I was a little perturbed by that. There's nothing that actually says that a Lord's knights can't go wherever they please, but sending them into another Lord's territory while paired up and on duty was something a Lord didn't do unless they had a very good reason. To be on the receiving end of that sort of act generally made you want to send a message to the Lord responsible . . . a sort of message where the delivery method was violent, and the gist of it was “Don't ever do that again.”

“Well double-damn. Of course there's a new wrinkle . . . why wouldn't there be something else suddenly causing me concern, what with everything else going on?”

“I'd say 'when it rains, it pours', but with us out here in this weather that would be kind of redundant,” Theo said, rotating his shoulder while rubbing circulation back into his arm.

“But aside from that, nothing unusual?”

Theo stopped rubbing his arm, eyes suddenly locked on something in the distance, behind me.

“Well, that would depend. Vince?” He pointed a finger over my shoulder. “What's that?”

I twisted out of my cross-legged position, turning behind me so that I might see what Theo was referring to.

“That,” I heard myself say calmly and evenly, “would appear to be a wraith, floating down from Blackstaag's garden wall.”

“Oh good,” Theo said, just as calmly. “I'm not going crazy then.”

Neither of us took our eyes off the tattered figure in the distance as we rose to our feet, watching the cowled figure as it drifted downward with exaggerated slowness, ethereal rags twisting away from its body and a soft glow surrounding its head. My own head was swimming, emptied of all rational thought as I watched the ghost-like shape descend to the street below it, almost exactly at the same spot I'd been the night before.

“Do you have any clever metal plates that can do that?” I asked.

“No, I'd have to say this is completely new to me.”

“Am I really seeing this, Theo?”

“Yup. So are they, as a matter of fact.”

A gathering of Blackstaag's knights appeared from behind the retaining wall, all with swords drawn, all watching the figure float down towards the street. Even at this distance in the middle of a rainstorm, I could make out several looks of shock and panic, and I could hear voices urgently barking orders in a foreign language. Some of the men seemed to obey instantly, others simply stood there and watched with open mouths as the specter hanging in midair before them finished what remained of its three-story drop and landed gently on the cobbles far beneath them.

Once its feet had touched the ground, it began to move quickly down the street, heading in our general direction.

“C'mon!” I shouted excitedly, bolting for the roof edge closest to where the rag-adorned figure was headed. I heard Theo behind me an instant later, his boots splashing through the shallow puddles that had an opportunity to form on the surface of the flat roof.

Ours weren't the only boots kicking up water. I'd seen the ghostly figure's own feet splashing among the many puddles that covered the street.

Incorporeal spirit, my ass!

Within moments we were at the side of the roof opposite the one I'd climbed up, looking down onto the street below. There wasn't any real quick and easy way of getting down I could see, but the wraith-like figure in the distance had been a good city block away, and running in our direction. We had time, and there was no other streets nearby. He'd have to run right by us, though the position of the taller neighboring building made it impossible to track where the thief was, now that he'd run far enough towards us to be hidden from view.

“Theo.” I said over my shoulder, eyes still scanning the features of the wall we stood atop of, “are you wearing your gloves?”

“Yes.”

“With your arm still numb, can you-”

“I'll manage!”

“Good.” I hurriedly reached into my sling-sack and pulled out a length of knot-rope, eyes finally spying something to attach it to. “Take this, tie it to that signpost, lower yourself down. Stay near the wall, and wait until you hear me surprise him before jumping out into the street – we'll get him from both sides. This 'wraith' has your sword, my book, and tonight we're getting them back!”

“Damn right!” Theo said, taking the rope and making short work of securing it. A few moments later he was carefully repelling hand-over-hand down the three-story wall and making good time.

Which left me. How was I going to get down?

I always carry some emergency safety gear when I know I'll be out and about, whether it be for a break-in or simply walking around my territory. Some of the gear was more fun and interesting than others . . . and more often than not I've found myself cursing the fact that I've never had an opportunity to use a few of the tricks I'd been hauling around with me for years.

The stonework on the opposite building looked fairly secure. Well, if this wasn't the perfect opportunity to use the contraption I had in mind, I doubted such an opportunity even existed.

Quickly moving to the same signpost that served as an anchor for Theo's descent, I reached into my inside vest pocket and pulled out a small marble-sized sphere connected to a piece of delicate looking string. Pulling on the string, more issued forth from within the orb, as if I were unraveling a knitted garment. Soon I had enough to comfortably tie around the signpost, which I did hastily.

I then took the marble and loaded it into my wrist-sling, pulling back on it hard and taking careful aim at the rock wall on the other side of the street. Letting it fly, I saw the marble thunk solidly into the large chunk of rock I'd been aiming for. The action produced a muffled explosion, and a shimmering glow enveloped the delicate string that now loosely connected the building I stood on with the one across the street. I knew that this glow would make the thread unbreakable for about twenty seconds, which would be more than adequate for what I had in mind.

Pulling a light metal hook from my sling-sack behind me, I took a few quick, sharp breaths . . . something I always do right before I attempt something ridiculously dangerous. I waited until just the right moment, that split second that my imagination painted the fleet-footed wraith-like figure appearing on the street below, based on the speed I'd observed before he had disappeared from my sight. Timing was everything for something like this.

I backed up two steps, paused, and then leapt forward and off the roof of the building in a dive, arms stretched in front of me and brandishing the metal hook, sailing through the air as if I'd suddenly learned the secret of flight.

I'm extremely happy to say that I didn't fall short of my intended target, the dangling thread that hung between the two buildings. My metal contraption hooked onto the thin, light-emitting rope just as gravity started to get the better of me, at which point the topmost part of the hook and the handle that I clutched with both hands split in two, revealing a thick, coiled spring. It stretched, just as it was supposed to, and lowered me to within a few feet of the street before deciding it had reached its limit . . . suspending me motionless above the cobbles for a brief moment.

I let go of it, issuing a silent prayer that it wouldn't hurt anybody once it sailed up into the night. I also prayed that I might land without twisting my ankle, or anything else that was twist-able.

There was a “twang” of suspended tension being released, which was followed by the clack of my boots hitting the cobbles at just the right weight. I barely had to use my hands as I landed, crouching for a moment and then righting myself with my arms spread wide, ready to stop any speedy wraith-like figure that happened to be sprinting down the street towards me.

“Ha-ha!” I cried, exultant. Finally, something works out exactly as I plan . . .

. . . except I didn't see a mysterious rag-garbed figure running down the street towards me, or anything else that might pass as a wraith. I couldn't see where he might have gone, either.

I did see six of Blackstaag's knights, all of whom had presumably been hot on the tail of the mysterious figure. They all broke stride simultaneously, stopping less then twenty feet from where I stood and staring at me.

One of them pointed directly at me, yelling something excitable that sounded like “More mew at a tongue flip!” which caused his fellows to exchange their startled expressions for ones of indignant outrage.

I'd landed that perfectly too. This sort of thing just wasn't fair at all . . .

“Son of . . . run!” I shouted towards the dark corner Theo had crouched in, turning and sprinting down the street behind me. I saw Theo bolt out of the shadows to join me, and heard the sounds of the angry knights far behind me doing likewise.

“Did you see where he went?” I shouted to my right as I ran.

“No, nothing!” Theo yelled back, cloak flapping loudly behind him.

Despite the fear-borne terror of running from six dangerous-looking individuals armed with swords, I realized I was starting to get pissed off.

I didn't ask for any of this – I was as much a victim as the Lords who now wished to see me strung up from the rafters. And yet I seemed to be the only one of us with even a slight clue regarding what was going on. To top it all off, the closer I got, the worse things seemed to get for me all of a sudden.

The brief flash of anger passed and I focused instead on running down the cobbled street, looking for some avenue of escape. I spied a tavern ahead and to the left, which I knew by reputation if not by sight. Not many taverns remained open this late, since the only people who were usually still interested in a bar at this hour had already had too much to drink, or they wished to take advantage of someone who had.

“This way!” I shouted, turning towards the tavern and heading directly for the pair of large and imposing black doors that marked the entrance, bursting through them not ten seconds later. I was already reaching into a pocket as I sped into the dimly lit bar.

Dozens of tough-looking and hard-lined faces turned in unison to regard the two of us in an unfriendly manner. Before they had a chance to sneer or turn back to their drinks, my fingers found what they were questing for, and I held it aloft for all to see.

“Oh no!” I said in mock dismay, tilting the money purse upside-down and allowing its contents to spill on the ground. “Forty gold marks just fell on the floor!”

I grabbed Theo's shirt and pulled him forward, quickly heading for the back door.

(Yes, yes . . . I know I said I'd never been there before, but there's always a back door in places like that.)

For a few seconds nobody moved, my words unable to pierce the drunken fog that shrouded their rum-soaked brains. A few eyes lit up with recognition upon hearing the sound of precious metal ringing upon the floorboards, the discordant tune grabbing everyone's interest and holding it. Even the scraggly bartender, busy cleaning a glass he was about to return to a nearby cupboard, froze mid-polish.

There was an eruption of customers a moment later, as everyone within earshot frantically dove forward upon the coins that rolled and jangled gleefully in the space where Theo and I had stood a few moments ago. Once or twice I had to twist out of the way of someone who was running from the back of the room to the front entrance, bumping shoulders briefly with the occasional patron.

My one regret is that I never got to see the faces of Blackstaag's knights as they plowed into the angry, drunken wall of humanity we'd hastily created at the doorway. I was confident that the sudden appearance of twenty or so bodies would slow them down enough, so I didn't risk a look behind me as I ran. Both Theo and I bolted through the rear exit, back out into the rain, and ran down the alleyway to our left, leaving behind us the sort of ruckus that indicated we'd delayed our pursuers for a good, long while.

I ran a little ways down the alley and up a set of stairs leading to a second-story balcony, and then began to crawl up the rough stone surface towards the roof, Theo at my heels. We made short work of the climb, then hopped from the slanted roof onto a level one on the building adjacent, sprinting to a well-hidden spot behind a stone wall before coming to a rest, both of our chests working air in and out like furnace bellows by the time we were done.

“That . . . was actually sort of fun,” Theo managed to say once we'd stopped gasping for breath.

“Well it was exciting, I'll give you that.” I gave a weak smile. “Do you think any of them recognized you? I know they recognized me, but if they saw you with me and know who you are . . .”

“No, I don't think anybody got to see much except the back of my head.”

“Ah, good news,” I said. “And as for everything else . . . damn, double-damn, and triple-damn!” My fist slapped wetly against the nearby roof tile.

We listened to our breathing mixed with the sound of falling rain for a while.

“Vince?”

“Hmmm?”

“There's another piece of good news - it's not a wraith.”

“I know.”

“Oh, really?” Theo rolled his head along the wall to tilt it in my direction and arched a sidelong eyebrow at me. “Is that why you just happened to be carrying a purse with exactly forty gold in it?”

“Shut up, Theo. You're more superstitious than I am . . . you've probably got the exact same amount on you, maybe even a weapon of some sort. Gold knuckle-dusters, maybe?”

“Okay, okay . . . I won't tell if you don't,” he grinned. “How did you figure out it wasn't a wraith, anyways?”

“Saw it splash through a puddle in the street there, figured it was an odd thing for an intangible, ghostly spirit to do. You?”

“Cloth moved a little to one side when landing, and I saw a very flesh colored arm. Skinny, but not skeletal.”

“Wow. Are we observant or what?”

“Well, there's no point in staying out here in the rain I suppose,” Theo said, looking up into the night sky with his eyes narrowed, a few drops pelting his brow. “Blackstaag got hit, and we'll probably want to pack it in somewhere safe and regroup for tomorrow, try to figure out a few more things about our mysterious thief. Say, you've got a lot of neat toys – how do you figure someone might go about dropping three stories at about the same speed as a falling feather?”

“I have no idea,” I was forced to admit. “We know it's not a wraith, but someone's going to a lot of trouble to make sure people think it's a wraith, it seems. The floating, the glowing eyes . . .”

“Cyrus said something about it being translucent when he saw it in the hallway,” Theo said, looking thoughtful.

“Yeah. Definitely wasn't translucent this time . . . just kind of grey.” I snapped my fingers with sudden understanding. “Thoughtcloth! It doesn't work well when it's wet!”

“Hmmm. An outfit made of rags, but the rags are made of thoughtcloth? Who would make something like that?”

“Someone who was very rich, I'd say,” I said, shaking my head. “That stuff isn't cheap. We do have a little more information for Cyrus when we meet with him this morning, for what it's worth. Better catch what sleep we can before then. Shall we split up, head back to our keeps?”

“Sure thing. Be careful getting home, Vince. If Blackstaag's knights aren't worked up like a pack of chimaeras already, they will be soon. I'll be safe enough, but you're another story.”

“I'll be fine.” I clapped him gently on the shoulder as he rose. “We'll see you in the morning.”

“See you.”

I watched him skirt the very edge of the building and leap onto another nearby roof with the ease of a natural athlete, disappearing from view a few moments later. Theo had a great deal of grace and coordination, being an expert swordsman and all. If he could just get some of the other necessary burgling skills up at that same level, his thieving ability would be a force to be reckoned with, despite his size.

A couple of moments after Theo departed, I rose and leapt nimbly onto an adjacent rooftop, heading in a completely different direction. I had to go back to the spot where I'd been laying in wait, disarm the traps I'd strung up to protect myself, or notify me if anyone was creeping nearby. They weren't the sort of thing you wanted to leave just lying around for the unaware, or for some adventurous children to find.

Ten minutes later, I was staring at what remained of my trip-wires and flare traps, all of which had been expertly disabled.

My silver tea container was also conspicuously absent.

I spent several minutes just standing there, getting angry. Had he known where I'd been the entire time? Why break in to Blackstaag's keep, then come all the way to where I'd been watching for him just to disable some traps and steal a silver tea container?

To show off, of course. This 'wraith' fellow wished to mock me.

“That's another one I owe you,” I muttered, pulling the cloak tighter around my shoulders, looking around briefly. “Hope you're enjoying yourself now, because it's sure as Hades not going to last . . .”

I began the long trudge homeward.

I encountered three separate patrols on my way back to my own property, though they remained unaware of me, lurking among the shadows above them, sticking to the rooftops for safety. Once back on my property, I actually saw one of Blackstaag's patrols walking down a street that was a mere two blocks from my keep, looking as though they owned the place. I felt a familiar, frustrated anger.

At which point I decided that I was in the mood to send a small message, of the variety I've already mentioned.

“Yeah, what the hell,” I announced aloud to the empty rooftop, unhooking the cradle of my wrist-sling.

From my rooftop perch I watched the two and loaded my sling once my fingers found a very different type of marble-sized object than the one I'd used earlier that evening. After a moment's careful aim, I released it and watched as the bright green missile sped away from me and pelted the nearest of the two knights in the back of the head. The air around the fellow exploded into a mossy green mist, enveloping him for a moment.

He turned with a start, surprised, at which point I presume he also took a deep breath. Immediately, he began to alternate between desperate coughs and violent sneezes. I sniggered as I retreated from view behind a stone ledge on the roof, watching as the poor knight attempted to cope. He'd have a wicked cough for the next couple of days, as well as a collection of scarlet hives on his neck and face, probably. That sling ammo released a powder that was actually used to disarm some alarms, but it was also extremely irritating when it came into contact with the skin.

I watched the other concerned-looking knight help his comrade walk down the street about a minute later, the two of them heading towards Blackstaag's territory. I knew that they were probably just following orders, going into my territory like that, but then I also could have done a lot worse.

There were no more Blackstaag patrols on the remaining trek back, which was probably luckier for them than it was for me. Once within sight of my keep I descended to street level and wrapped my hooded cloak tighter around my body, a useless gesture considering how wet I was. Several quick strides later I found myself in front of a familiar gate, two of my knights breaking off their conversation so as to turn and accost me as I walked up to it.

“Excuse me,” one called out, voice raised in order to be heard over the rain. “No callers at this hour. Be off with you!”

“Ah, but what if it was really important, Knight . . . uh-” I said, removing my hood and realizing I'd forgotten the fellow's name.

“Lord Tucat!” he said, looking to his fellow guard and standing up a little straighter just as the other did likewise. “Milord, I didn't know you were out and about this evening.”

Of course he didn't. I actually go to great lengths to ensure nobody but Cyrus and myself know when I'm burgling or skulking about, preferring to exit via an out-of-the-way second-story window. Most times I'll return home by slipping past my own guards through the front gates without them realizing it, but tonight wasn't the sort of night for stuff like that.

“Yeah, I'm sneaky like that. How goes the evening so far, uh . . .” I frowned. “You're the fellow with the unusual name, the one that's got two dozen letters in it, right? Sorry, what is it again?”

“Don, Milord.”

“Right,” I said, sighing inwardly. “Anything out of the ordinary tonight, Don?”

“No Milord, aside from yourself. It's been fairly quiet. Haven't even heard an alarm this evening, which is a bit of a nice change.”

“Isn't it, though? Could you do me a favor, Don?”

“Certainly, Milord!”

“Spread the word when you have a moment - any Blackstaag knights that are seen on my territory are to be watched closely until they leave. If you or anyone on gate duty should encounter anyone in Blackstaag's employ, you will prevent them from setting foot upon the keep grounds. Use whatever means necessary, at your own discretion. You will have the full backing of your Lord should anything go awry.”

His chest puffed out noticeably and he stood at attention, as did the knight beside him.

“Yes Milord,” they both said in unison.

“Also, be sure to inform me or Cyrus instantly if anything should happen involving Blackstaag or his knights,” I said, tossing each of the knights a couple of gold coins. “Once you've finished your shift, you should find someplace warm that has decent beer.”

Two sets of eyes lit up.

“Thank you, Milord!” Don said gratefully.

I nodded to both knights and hurried past them up to the front doors of my keep, exhaling deeply as I entered the foyer and shook the raindrops from my garments, glad to finally be out of the rain.

Yet another failed attempt to nab the unknown thief, I mused, pulling my wet cloak from my neck and shoulders. We'd acquired some more information though, and it did seem like we were getting closer to an actual breakthrough with each new revelation. The thief dressed as a wraith, which could be significant. Perhaps the Lord who was responsible for this string of thefts wished to spark some sort of religious concern, or was some sort of zealot. One of the first things I'd do was ask Cyrus to go over his description of the wraith-like figure he'd seen in the stairwell that one evening, making sure he left no detail out. We were getting closer.

I was about to put my rain-soaked cloak and outer jacket on their usual spot, hanging on the back of the chair that stood ever-present beside the closet facing the front doorway, when I noticed something already sitting there.

Two dry towels, each carefully rolled, were sitting on the seat of the chair. On top of the towels was a tray, which contained a kettle and a silver teacup that was filled with hot lemon. Fragrant steam was snaking its way upwards from the mouth of the cup.

My Knight-Captain must have been watching the grounds for my arrival, being unable to sleep. Bless his sleep-deprived heart.

I dropped my sodden clothes onto the already wet marble tiled floor and carefully lifted the tray and its contents in order to remove one of the towels, setting it back down carefully on the seat so as not to risk spilling any. I suddenly could think of nothing I wanted more than a hot beverage to chase away the chill brought on from another night's failed reconnoitering.

“Cyrus, you're a mind-reader.” I mused, rubbing the towel through my damp hair vigorously, already looking forward to the prospect of warming myself with a few cups of lemon in front of a nice roaring fire.

I found myself wondering what sort of things had gone missing from the Blackstaag estate.