“We all have secrets,” he said quietly as she returned the staff to its place against the bedroom wall. He waited until she turned back to him before risking her wrath once more. “No, I won’t tell anyone… on one condition.”
She looked at him in surprise, even disappointment. “Butbut I thought…” she stammered, then regained control of herself. “Oh, I knew you were too good to be true!” she cried. “I knew there had to be a catch!”
‘You don’t know the half of it,” Pryce said, shamefaced. “Believe it or not, I need your help.”
The bogus Blade glanced over at Dearlyn as they made their way to the shore of the bay. She really was a magnificent creatureall curves and strength and eyes and hair and pouty lips. She was back in her outfit of the previous afternoon, only this time she had concealed it beneath the cloak her father had made for herthe one that was a sister to the one he wore. Not surprisingly, as far as Covington was concerned, it looked far more impressive on her.
The cape swirled scant millimeters above the perfectly maintained streets, the predawn fog elegantly curling up from beneath the garment as if it were manufacturing the mist. Her cloak’s clasp was the same size as his, but bore a different design. Instead of an intricate forest of thorns, hers portrayed a sea of delicate flower petals that managed to spell out D and A in the most subtle manner imaginable.
“Why not wait until sunrise to visit the Mystran Inquisitrix Castle?” she whispered as they walked side by side.
“I may not have the time to wait,” Pryce said grimly. “Make no mistake, Miss Ambersong. I wouldn’t have made my presence known before the Fall Festival were it not imperative. There is a mystery to be solved in Lallor… and it involves your father.”
She stopped in her tracks and gripped his arm. He stopped to face her. “My father?” she gasped, her eyes wide. “What do you know?”
“That’s the problem,” he said intently. “I don’t know enough. But Berridge Lymwich might, and time is of the essence!”
What he didn’t tell her was that the longer he remained in Lallor, the greater the chance he would wake up dead. Whoever had killed those two men was still at large and couldn’t be overjoyed that someone everyone thought was Darlington Blade was still alive.
To stay alive, he had to know what Lymwich was doing at the
Question Tree late last night… and he had to know now. He would confront Teddington Fullmer later. At the moment, Lymwich was his only lead, while his only advantage was the element of surprise, and his only sanctuary was speed.
“But why do you need me to test the magical defenses?” she countered. “Surely whatever the inquisitrixes have prepared in an effort to repel unwanted visitors will be nothing to you!”
He snorted impatiently, trapped by the complications of his impersonation. “Please, Miss Ambersong. If I’m so great, couldn’t you stop questioning my so-called unfathomable wisdom and just do as I suggest? I promise, as soon as I know anything, you’ll know.”
She bit her full lower lip, looking deep into his eyes, still holding his arm. For a moment, he considered telling her the truth… the whole truth… but then he suddenly realized that the real Darlington Blade had to have been killed by someone Blade knew and trusted. And that person had to be talented indeed in order to murder Blade, even if his guard was down. So, with a great effort of will, he remained silent.
“Darlington, I…” she began pleadingly, then thought better of it Her fingers released his sleeve and she stepped back. “Very well, Blade,” she said coolly. “I will put faith in what you say, but only until it is proven otherwise.”
He swallowed and nodded. “Fair enough,” he said tightly. “Now, let’s go… quickly.”
They continued on in silence, allowing Pryce to further consider his situation and the magnificence that was Lallor. Beauty was everywhere, consciously designed to have the most therapeutic and pleasing effect Continual light spells kept a rosy glow on everything in sight so there was little chance for anything to take anyone by surprise, either by design or accident. The security of the city seemed complete.
No wonder the dead bodies were found outside the wall, Pryce thought. If the two men’s deaths had occurred inside, the murderer wouldn’t have stood a chance.
Still, a primary mage was missing and two people were dead. And as much as Pryce hated to contemplate it, unless Gamor had committed suicide or somehow accidentally stuck his head in a noose and hanged himself six feet off the ground, foul play was indicated. ButTurkal’s death was not really the problem. Blast it, Covington thought, could have killed Gamor. He frowned philosophically and shrugged. And fairly easily, at that. p›
No, the real Darlington Blade was the problem. Killing him would not have been easy. Covington felt very ill- suited to deal with this revelation. Human behavior had been the core of his business back in Merrickarta, but the emotions needed to actually plot, carry out, and get away with the underhanded, petty, cunning crime of murder nearly overwhelmed him. To kill Gamor Turkal was one thing, but to assassinate Darlington Blade? That would take a dangerous opponent indeed.
He gave a start when Dearlyn laid her hand on his arm again. “There,” she said. ‘The Inquisitrix Castle.”
He nearly did a double take as he saw the castle close up for the first time. He moved down the lane, which emptied out onto a stone quay, for a better look. Coming around a patch of swaying trees, he could finally see the entire structure. It stood out in Lallor Bay, looking at first like many other castles. Magnificent, certainly, but not overly large or brilliantly designed, considering the truly breathtaking floating castles in other parts of Halruaa.
From his position on shore, Covington could see three turrets. The windows looked like huge gemstones of different colors. They bulged out as if someone had catapulted red, green, and blue jewels the size of boulders into the walls, and they had stuck halfway through. From the outside, he could see the glimmer of light and movement within.
There was no classic gate. This castle’s “gate” was a simple, unadorned wooden door with a plain copper doorknob. Pryce leaned forward, having a hard time believing his eyes, because the entire Mystran Inquisitrix Castle rested on top of a single, simple door, which in turn seemed to float a paper’s thickness above the water.
He turned back to look wonderingly at Dearlyn, who shrugged. “It’s always been like that,” she told him. “A huge stone edifice resting atop a plain wooden door. Don’t ask me to explain it.”
Pryce got as close to the water’s edge as possible. He walked down the quay until the water lapped at his boots. He moved to the left and to the right, craning his neck, but he never could see whether there was anything beside or behind the door. No matter what angle he looked from, the huge castle continued to appear as if it were balancing on a single door beneath it.
Covington blinked, shook his head, and looked down. The wonders didn’t cease. The castle, now some fifty yards away, rested on the door, which in turn hovered over a solid concrete shelf, covered by only a single inch of placid, crystal-clear bay water.
‘The Lalloreef Strait.” He turned at the sound of Dearlyn’s voice in his ear. She smiled understandingly, then nodded toward the shelf with its thin layer of clear water. “I’ve never seen anyone but an inquisitrix or an inquisitrix’s guest move across it. No one has. Even children consider it off limits.”
If it could be said that Pryce was in over his head in only one inch of water, the visual conundrums the Mystran Inquisitrix Castle presented him with had done the trick. But just like the rest of the dangers this mystery posed, Covington couldn’t afford to dwell on it. If he had, he would have run screaming into the predawn murk, as opposed to staying and fighting for what he was rapidly beginning to believe inlittle, unimportant things like love and justice.
“All right,” he gulped, finding his voice. “Use what skills you have been able to surreptitiously acquire to divine what fortification you can.”
Dearlyn looked worriedly at the castle, then back at him, unsure of herself.
It was his turn to lay a hand on her arm. “Please,” he said. “I’d rather die than let anything happen to you.”
She looked at him with confusion, but then a strange look of hope infused her features. “Let me get this straight,” she said with equal portions of incredulity and disbelief. “Are you saying… would you…? Are you asking me to be your apprentice? My father can’t teach me directly, but through you…?”
Pryce’s heart sank. Now he knew that in order to secure her cooperation and collaboration, he would have to resort to another eminently practical, but truthless, deception. “Please don’t worry about that,” he said. “Just attempt what I requested… please? Sometime tonight?”
