“True,” Gardener agreed. “But the Lorn and Bray families were wealthy on Earth, and they bought ships to bring settlers from Earth. The wealth in these cellars could have purchased an armada!”
I thought out loud. “Stentor could have claimed the children were to be colonists, but where did he keep them?”
Sophia gestured widely. “Manland is vast, and mostly uninhabited. People have come here since we arrived, winking and nodding to say that they did business with him, Von Goldereau among them. Perhaps he knows.”
“We know none were sent through these cellars since Stentor died,” I said. “The notes we read make that clear. If Von Goldereau is in the same trade, he has another route.”
“You left none of the dead creatures down there?” the Gardener asked. “I would like to have seen one.”
“I left none, but I can describe them for you,” I offered. “The size of my two hands, clenched together, with ten or eleven arms or legs or tentacles…”
“Ghyrm,” said the Gardener. “Well, that’s what I thought they must be. When Stentor did not reply, they were angered, and they sent ghyrm through the gate to destroy him. He was too wily to be taken so. Tomorrow we will go down there, Sophia, and have a look at this place, this doorway. Whoever is buying these children has access both to great wealth and to ghyrm, and I need to send word of that to my friends. Also, if your cellar can spare some of its riches, we may use some of it to pay for what we must accomplish next.”
“I have never known you to buy anything,” I cried, astonished.
The Gardener replied, “Warriors like to be paid, even those of the Siblinghood, who are choosy about what they fight for. We will have need of more than a few of them.”
“Would my grandfather have approved of this expenditure?” Sophia asked with a sly smile.
“Almost certainly not.” The Gardener grinned.
“Then you may use as much as you can, with my blessing,” said the heiress.
I Am Ongamar/on Cantardene
In House Mouselline, I, Miss Ongamar, pinned and basted, seamed and embroidered, and each day my escape plans ripened. Those plans, almost a year in the making, were now complete. I had pulled together all the notes I had made, put them in order, and transcribed them all in minuscule script on the inside of my Hrassian robes. I had recently stolen money from House Mouselline, not a difficult task, since Lady Ephedra trusted Miss Ongamar to tally each day’s receipts and make up the transfer document for House Mouselline’s banker. These accounts would be audited, of course, but I had begun after the last audit and still had time to spare.
Disguised as a Hrass and using the stolen money, I had purchased a go-pass on an outgoing ship that was to leave during the anniversary celebration of the Great Leader’s accession to power, tomorrow. House Mouselline would be closed, today was my last day, so I took my self-allotted share from the cash box and tucked it under my padding, totaled up the transfer document and laid it atop the box, then began tidying the little cubby where I worked, paying no attention to the clamor in the showroom, until I heard my own name.
“Miss Ongamar, yes. If you don’t mind.” I was stunned by the voice, a human voice, male, very firm, a little amused.
“This shop is only for the tamistachi, the elite of K’Famir,” shrieked Lady Ephedra. “Dirty human slaves are not welcome.”
The man laughed, a deep, truly amused chuckle. “Ah, but Lady Ephedra, I am not a dirty human slave, I am a diplomat from the Dominion. Here, my diplomatic pass. Here’s identification, see, my likeness without a doubt, resembling no one else.”
“It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, someone may see you here, someone may smell you here…”
“Then it would be wise to let me see Miss Ongamar so that I may go away the sooner, would it not?”
I heard the scuttling feet and stood with my back to the wall. The curtain that enclosed my cubby was drawn aside with a rattle of rings, and Lady Ephedra pointed toward me with both left arms. “She is here! See her and go!”
The man stood politely aside while the Lady departed, then slipped into the cubby, looked me over from head to toe with one eye and one eye patch, whispering as he did so:
“Gather up what you need and come with me.”
“And who are you,” I grated, halfway between anger and terror. I had needed only one more day! If anything was guaranteed to make the Lady Ephedra my enemy, this was it.
“I am sometimes called Stipps, sometimes Mr. Weathereye,” he said, bowing slightly. “I often work with the Dominion and the Siblinghood, which group tells me your term as a bondservant was actually fulfilled some time ago. I have the documents here, as approved by the K’Famir official for this sector, and if you will be kind enough to take me to your living quarters, we will discuss your future plans.”
I dithered. If…if what he said was true, then I needn’t fear the retribution that Lady Ephedra would exact. On the other hand, if it wasn’t true, I was in trouble up to my eyebrows. On the one hand, the man seemed very sure, but on the other hand, people were often very sure about things that had no truth to them whatsoever…
He leaned forward. “Please, Margaret. Just release your hold on the back of that chair and come with me.”
“Ongamar,” I corrected him. “Miss Ongamar.”
“Yes, Margaret. I know.”
Somehow, he managed to convince me. Somehow he managed to dissuade Lady Ephedra from making a fuss as we went out of the building to the street and down the narrow way to my rooms. When I reached out to put my key in the door, he whispered, “Where is it?”
My throat froze. I shivered in terror, trying to speak.
“Point,” he said
