It was just a chair.
But I had no recollection whatsoever of being seated upon it.
The room was dark. There was a single small window, set in the middle of the wall that I faced, but the sturdy wooden shutters and the thick, dusty drapes kept all but a few weary beams from creeping inside.
I remembered where I was, and why I’d come. I was instantly relieved to feel my own heartbeat, and to take in a great big breath of stale, musty air.
There were dim shapes lined up against all the walls. One moved, stepped away from the window, came toward me on cold stiff legs.
The dim light touched its dusty face. I looked away.
“Welcome, Captain,” it spoke. The word came in a harsh whisper. It could have been male or female, young or old.
I found my voice.
“I hope you’ll forgive the intrusion. I have news. It may involve the people from Prince.”
There was a moment of silence. Another dusty shape detached from the wall and took a few uneasy steps.
There was no stench. No buzzing of flies. Even so, I was not comforted.
“Follow. You are safe in my home. Please have no fear.”
The pair of corpses turned. An open door appeared. They stepped through it.
I rose and followed.
We emerged into a cavernous hallway. The walls were stone. The ceiling was too high to see. Candles on sconces flared to life as we neared and were snuffed out by unseen hands as we passed.
The corpses fell into step on either side of me.
Both were cloaked and hooded. One might have been a woman. One was burned. Both bore years if not centuries of dust.
“I wondered when you would first seek out my door.”
Shapes moved up ahead. I got the impression bodies were being moved out of my sight.
“Maybe it’s nothing. But-”
Both corpses brought fingers to their lips, signing for silence. The burned body’s fingers were nothing but blackened bone.
“Nice place you have here.”
“It serves me well.” We came to an enormous iron door flanked with magelights and glowing sigils worked into the walls. The burned corpse stepped forward and pushed at the door with bony hands.
It swung inward.
The smell and sound of bacon frying came out. And light.
The dead woman touched my elbow and gently led me inside.
I entered a kitchen. The corpses at my sides took a single step in, then backed out, leaving me behind. The door closed firmly behind me.
There was an enormous stove, and a long stone-topped bar, and ranks and ranks of cabinets along the walls. A huge oak table stood to one side. A single chair was parked beneath it.
A grey haired woman, her back to me, peeked inside the oven, mumbled something, and closed the massive iron door.
“I so seldom cook, I’m afraid I’ve quite forgotten how.” She turned.
I’d thought maid or cook or other servant, but it was Hisvin herself.
She had flour on her hands and a dishrag tossed over her right shoulder. Her clothes were simple street clothes, none too stylish. She wore slippers. One was showing a hole at the toe.
“I don’t allow my servants in the kitchen,” she added, smiling. “My sole concession to any lingering vestige of domesticity. Sit.”
I made for the table. A plain wooden chair slid from somewhere in the shadows and came to rest beneath the massive dining table.
I took the nearest and sat. I could have seated fifty of my closest friends around me.
Instead, the Corpsemaster ambled over, pulled back the chair and seated herself.
“Oh, for Angel’s sake, Captain. If I had any intention of killing you I certainly wouldn’t do it here. This is my kitchen, after all.”
I licked my lips. “Sorry. Officers make me nervous.”
She laughed. “Must I remind you that you yourself are an officer, these days?”
“You see my dilemma, sir.”
She shook her head. A silver coffee service appeared, without muss or fuss, at my right hand.
“I take two sugars,” she said.
I fumbled with the spoon.
“Is this better?”
I looked up, and the Corpsemaster had changed.
She was now clad in a black hooded robe. Her hands and face were covered.
“Or this?”
She was a golden-haired, smiling young woman, a bit on the buxom side, dressed in a barmaid’s garb.
“Or perhaps you would prefer this?”
She was Darla, complete with pencil behind her right ear.
I took a deep breath and measured out two spoonfuls of sugar and then poured the coffee in on it.
“This, then.” She was once again the grey-haired lady with the plain face and the weary grey eyes. “Do you know I have not shown my true face in well over a century, Captain?”
“I’m honored,” I replied. “Might I ask why you’ve chosen to do so now?”
“It amuses me. And I believe you can be trusted. And frankly I’m far too tired to keep up a pretense and make breakfast at the same time.”
I found myself chuckling as I stirred. Her cup pulled itself gently away from my hand and glided across the table to hers.
I made myself a cup while she sipped.
“I’ve had some trouble,” I said, after tasting mine. It was army coffee, bitter and strong. “It started in a little farming village. A place called Pot Lockney.”
“I know of it.”
“Mama Hog got involved. She ended it by sticking a former army sorcerer’s head on a pole. Called himself the Creeper.”
Hisvin nodded. “I know the name. One of many whose ambition outpaced their ability in the last days of the War. Why does this Creeper concern you?”
“It’s what Mama found in their possession. Maps. Maps of Rannit. With places on the walls marked.”
“Recent maps?”
“Mama thinks so. She’s bringing the maps back to Rannit. But that will take a couple of days, or longer. And there’s more. Mama also thinks this Creeper character had ties to Prince.”
Hisvin stared into her cup.
“Troubling. Pot Lockney is close, relatively speaking. If this Creeper employed agents, they may have been observing the work along the walls.”
“Could be. Mama can’t read the notations. I didn’t think you’d want to wait.”
“Indeed. I do not. It is good that you came, Captain. I am pleased.”
I nodded. “Oh. I also have word from Evis, who asked me to convey to you his thanks. The
“Excellent.” She rose, her face grim. “I need those maps, Captain. And the body of the Creeper.”
“I’m afraid Mama removed the head. She has some unique tastes in lawn decorations.” I hesitated. “The whole body?”
“The head will suffice. I have questions. This Creeper may hold some of the answers.”
“I did mention the part about him being dead.”
“You did. A small impediment. I require the maps as well.”
