there. He walked casually forward. He hadn't made half a dozen steps before
Jamie called urgently after him, and came running up behind him to grab him by
the arm.
'Don't go near the wards, Richard, it isn't safe.' He bent down, picked up a
clump of grass and threw it forward. It flew a few feet and then flared up
suddenly, burning soundlessly with a brilliant, eye-searing flame. Within
seconds there were only a few particles of ash, which were carried away on the
wind. Jamie wiped his hands on a handkerchief, then tucked it neatly away in his
sleeve. 'Sorry about that, Richard. I should have warned you.'
'That's all right,' said Hawk steadily. 'I wasn't thinking.'
They both turned away from the wards and joined the others in circling round the
Tower, searching for an empty window. Curtains and clothing and other markers
flapped fitfully at the many windows and arrow slits. An excited shout went up
as Jamie spotted an unmarked window, only to quickly fall away as Alistair and
Hawk pointed out two more. The four men stood quietly together a moment, looking
at the Tower and each other.
'Three?' said Jamie. 'How the hell can there be three windows?'
'Presumably there are two more hidden rooms,' said Marc.
'And with our luck, two more freaks,' said Hawk.
Jamie winced. 'Please, Richard. Don't say that. Not even as a joke. Things are
bad enough without tempting fate. No; whatever those rooms are, they can't have
anything to do with the freak, or Dad would have mentioned them in his notes.'
'Not necessarily,' said Alistair.
'We're wasting time,' said Marc. 'The quickest way to find out why there are two
more hidden rooms is to go and take a look.'
'He's right,' said Hawk. 'We have to know what's in those rooms. One of them's
got to have the answers we need.'
'Very well, let's go,' said Jamie, staring up at the windows. 'All three rooms
are on the third floor. They shouldn't be too difficult to find.'
He led the way back into the Tower and up the stairs, moving at a fast walk that
threatened frequently to break into a run but somehow never quite did. Hawk
admired Jamie's self-control. It was only the MacNeil's example that kept him
from taking the steps two at a time at a dead run. They were getting close to
the answers now; he could feel it in his water. He was still cautious enough to
keep a watchful eye on his surroundings, but nothing moved in the shadows and
the only sound on the quiet was their own hurried footsteps and harsh breathing.
Hawk kept a firm grip on his sword hilt. It was all too easy. Somehow, in some
way Hawk didn't understand, the freak was leading them around by the nose. They
had to be doing exactly what he wanted, or he'd have attacked them by now. It
was the only explanation that made sense.
They burst out onto the third floor, breathing heavily from the stairs, and
Jamie strode briskly down the corridor, counting off doorways as he went. He
stopped before a featureless stretch of wall, and waited impatiently for the
others to catch up. Hawk studied the brickwork dubiously. It looked no different
from any other stretch of wall. He looked at Jamie.
'Are you sure this is the right place?'
'Of course I'm sure! I grew up here; I know every floor and every room of Tower
MacNeil like the back of my own hand. For example…' He walked back a dozen
paces, and pressed a piece of stone scrollwork. There was a faint grinding
noise, and a section of wall swung slowly open on concealed hinges, revealing a
dark, narrow passage. 'It's one of the old secret stairways; ends up in the
library. One of the more useful shortcuts built into the Tower.' He pushed the
section of wall shut with a grunt, and it locked silently back into position,
with nothing to show it had ever opened.
'Very impressive,' said Hawk as Jamie came back to join them. 'I'll remember it
if I'm in a hurry. In the meantime, if there is a room behind this wall, how do
we get in? Break the wall down?'
'That may not be necessary,' said Alistair. 'Look closely. This particular
stretch of brickwork seems more modern than the rest.'
They all looked. Hawk was damned if he could see any difference, but didn't say
so.
'Look for a hidden catch or lever,' said Alistair. 'Something that doesn't quite
fit, or that seems somehow out of place.'
They pressed in close to the wall, running their fingertips across the bricks
and mortar, and staring intently at every crack and crevice. In the end, Jamie
was the one who found the lever. It was disguised as one of the lamp brackets,
and Jamie had noticed it was a slightly different design than the ones on either
side of it. He gave it a good hard tug, and it tilted out of the wall. There was
a hesitant rumbling of hidden machinery, and then a section of the wall swung
open. Jamie stepped forward to look inside and Hawk moved quickly in beside him,
sword at the ready.
The room was small and featureless, lit only by daylight filtering through a
narrow slit window. It was completely empty. Hawk scowled and lowered his sword
as Marc and Alistair crowded in behind him.
'Why go to all the trouble of setting up a concealed room and then not use it?
That's crazy.'
'Not really,' said Jamie, taking a few steps into the room. 'This was probably
meant for use as a last-ditch bolt-hole, in times of trouble or unrest. There
was a time, not that many Kings ago, when the MacNeils weren't too popular at
Court. They made the mistake of telling the King the truth instead of what he
wanted to hear, and had the impertinence to stick up for their friends, even
when those friends had fallen out of favor. The MacNeils always did have more
loyalty than sense. Anyway, this was probably intended as a hiding place for
guests the MacNeils weren't supposed to be talking to, or maybe as a refuge for
women and children if the Tower was ever put under siege. We MacNeils haven't
survived this long without learning a few tricks along the way.'
'Damn right,' growled Alistair. 'Never trust in the gratitude of Kings or
politicians. They all have bloody short memories when they feel like it.'
Hawk nodded politely, disguising his interest. He hadn't known the MacNeils had
a history of bad relations with the Court. That might explain why Fenris had
gone to ground at Tower MacNeil in the first place.
'This is all very interesting,' said Marc, in a tone that implied it wasn't, at
all. 'But do you think we could please get a move on? We have two more rooms to
find, and the less time we spend on our own up here, the better.'
'The lad's right,' said Alistair. 'We've left the women alone too long as it
is.'
'They're protected,' said Jamie. 'They'll be all right till we get back.'
Alistair sniffed. 'Some protection; a dandy, a drunk, and two old men. There's
no telling what might have happened while we've been gallivanting about up
