Masques (Sianim #1)(70)

"How many times did you get lost exploring this?" asked Aralorn in a soft voice.

Wolf shot her an amused look. "Several, but I found a book hidden in one of the old libraries that detailed some of the passages and there was a copy of the master plans in the library I found here in the tunnels. The passages are extensive; it's a wonder the whole thing hasn't collapsed. There are only fifteen or twenty large rooms like the one we started in, most of them about in the same condition. If we make it through the next few days, I'll show you a library that makes mine look small. I don't know all of the passages. There are a lot of secret panels and hidden doors, magical and mundane, that make it difficult to find most of the interesting places. Like this one." Wolf waved a hand and a large section of the tunnel just disappeared into a finished and ornate corridor.

When they stepped through, the opening disappeared - leaving a blank wall in its place. The end of the corridor widened into a huge room with a water fountain at its center. The floor had once been wood, now mostly rotted away, leaving a walkway that was uneven and hazardous. Aralorn stumbled and tripped forward, staring at the frescoed ceiling and the elaborate stone carvings on the walls. When she started muttering about '"where the fourth Earl of Such-and-Such met with the Queen to defeat the Sorcerer What's-His-Face." Wolf put a firm hand on her shoulder and led her patiently around the old traps and pitfalls. He enjoyed her enthusiasm quietly, as any comment on his part was likely to spark a full-blown story.

He led her through several other unexpected doorways before they came to stairs that led up to the castle itself. The first place he took them to was the master's suite. It consisted of eight interconnected rooms, all covered with tapestries of great age. The rooms were empty except for the silk merchant's youngest daughter, who was crouched sobbing in a corner.

Her nakedness made her look even younger than she was. The white skin of her back was mottled with bruises and lash marks. An arcane symbol whose meaning eluded Aralorn was etched into one shoulder in bright red.

Wolf, who recognized the symbol, grabbed both of Aralorn's arms when she would have reached out to touch the girl. He pushed Aralorn behind him with more speed than gentleness and gripped his staff in one hand. Noiselessly he drew his sword in the other.

"Child." The word was gentle, his tone sad - for him; but he gripped the sword and held it in readiness. It was fortunate that he did so.

With a chilling cry and uncanny speed she turned and leapt. Once her face had been uncommonly pretty, thought Aralorn. Now the skin was drawn too tightly against the bones. Her china-blue eyes were surrounded by pools of blood red. Her full lips were stretched over pearly teeth, the kind that all of the heroines in the old stories had - with a slight difference. The lower set of teeth were as long as the first two knuckles of Aralorn's ring ringer. Her mouth gaped impossibly wide as she launched herself at Wolf.

He knocked her aside easily enough, for her weight was slight, and in the process cut her deeply in the abdomen. He ended her suffering with a cut to the back of her neck.

Death was no stranger to Aralorn, so examining the body didn't bother her - much. "One of your father's pets, I assume?" It was a comment more than a question.

Wolf grunted an affirmative and touched the symbol on her back. "She'd have been a lot harder to fight if she hadn't been so new at it. She didn't even know how to attack."

Aralorn jerked the embroidered bedspread off the bed and covered the pathetic little body with it before following Wolf into the next room in the suite.

The study was a wonder in cultured taste, not that Aralorn expected anything else. Wolf walked to the desk and picked up a sheet of paper. He laughed humorlessly and handed it to Aralorn. It read simply, "I'm in the dungeon."

"Apparently," said Wolf, "he was monitoring his little trap. He probably knows that you are with me. I want you to go back. Now."

She looked at him consideringly. "I probably should tell you that I will, and then just follow you in."

"You would, wouldn't you?" Wolf's voice was soft. He glanced at a decanter on the ae'Magi's polished desk. It imploded loudly enough to make Aralorn jump. "Plague it, Aralorn, don't you see? He will use you against me. He already has."

Aralorn felt her own temper rise to the surface. "Plague it, yourself," she hissed. "Do you think that I am some weak helpless female who can do nothing but stand around while you protect her? I am not helpless against human magic or anything else he's likely to throw at us." She made human sound like a filthy word.

He was silent for a long moment and then he waved his hand with an haphazard motion and the decanter re-created itself, leaving the desk unblemished. He walked over and pulled the stopper. Taking a token drink from the neck of the bottle, he met Aralorn's glare. "I owe you an apology, Lady. I'm not used to caring about anything; it's ... uncomfortable."

She tilted her chin up at him, flags of temper still on her cheeks, then she took the decanter that he was still holding and took a mouthful herself. She set it on the desk and muttered something that he wasn't supposed to hear.

"What?" Obviously he did hear it.

She put her hands on her hips and glared at him, tapping a foot impatiently on the floor. ';I said, quote: 'It's a good thing that I love you or you'd be Uriah bait': unquote. Now that's settled, why don't we go find ourselves an ae'Magi?" Without waiting for him, she stalked out the door into the hallway.