Marked for Death

Chapter 31

Burch watched Esprл’s eyes grow wide. He tried to kick her under the table to tell her to be quiet, but the wizard spotted him and her scowl sent him back to perching on the seat instead. Majeeda turned to the girl and stretched out her hands.

“I’m sorry, my dear,” the deathless elf said. “I didn’t mean to disturb your young mind with such terrible tales about such horrible people. Please forgive me.”

Esprл glanced at Kandler, who nodded at her. The girl looked back at the wizard and gulped. “I’m fine,” she said. “I was just thinking about that vampire and how you got rid of him.” The girl let a smile poke through her fear. “That was a good thing you did.”

A grin grew across the wizard’s face, so wide that it seemed her jaw might fall off into her lap. “I’m so glad you think so,” she said. Her pale, sunken eyes sparkled with joy, and the light within her glowed a bit brighter.

Majeeda beamed at each of the people around the table with her, even Burch, although less so when she saw the shifter wiping his face with her table linen.

“It’s so good to be surrounded by such fine people again, people who understand me.” She sighed. “It’s been so long.”

“We’re glad to be here,” Kandler said. “This is far better than spending another night in the Mournland. We spent most of the night chasing that vampire and changeling.”

With that reminder, Esprл covered her mouth as she tried to stifle a long yawn.

“Where are my manners?” Majeeda said. “I forget that the living tire so easily, and you must have had such a harrowing ordeal. Can I show you to your chambers?”

The guests nodded as one and followed as the deathless elf rose and strode from the chamber. She walked over to the stairs in the north wall and ascended another flight to the next floor up.

“The guest chambers are up here,” Majeeda said.

They emerged into a sitting room about a third of the size of the dining hall or the library on the first floor.

Overstuffed chairs sat scattered about the room in pairs, accompanied by low tables for resting feet or drinks upon. A roaring fire blazed in an open hearth near the rear wall, showering the room in warm, flickering light. Two closed doors stood at opposite ends of a wooden wall, otherwise covered with gold and red tapestries that ran across the tower from side to side.

“Ladies reside on the left,” Majeeda said. “Gentlemen on the right.”

Burch leaned in to whisper something to Kandler. The justicar turned to their hostess and spoke to her in her native tongue again. “My compatriot here”-he pointed to Burch-“prefers to sleep outdoors. We’d be in your debt if you could find appropriate arrangements for him.”

Majeeda frowned for a short moment. “You think he’d fare better in the courtyard?” she responded in the common tongue.

Burch’s face lit up.

“I think so,” said Kandler as he rubbed his eyes. “Otherwise, he’s liable to start howling and keep us all awake.”

Majeeda inclined her head at Kandler. “Allow me to take care of this matter for you.”

Kandler glanced at the shifter, concern etched on his face. Burch recognized the “Are you sure about this?” look. In response, he gave Kandler a single, serious nod. To Burch, this seemed like their best chance for escape, and he wasn’t going to back down now.

“Our thanks for your kind consideration, my Lady Majeeda,” Kandler said.

Esprл ran over and gave Kandler a big hug before following Sallah through the left door. Kandler watched her go and waited for the door to close before he took the door on the right. Burch gave him a quick wink just before the justicar shut the door.

“Follow me,” Majeeda said to Burch. She turned and walked off without looking back to see if he would pursue her. He did.

When they reached the stairs, Majeeda climbed upward instead of going down. Burch hesitated for a moment but then started up after the deathless elf.

There was a landing at the top of the stairs, and Majeeda waited for Burch there. When he caught up with her, she pointed at an ironbound trapdoor hanging in the ceiling above them. “That leads to the roof,” the wizard said. “Please show yourself up and close the door behind you. I trust you will be comfortable up there.”

Burch hesitated for a moment. He wanted to be put in the courtyard, but he supposed that getting outside at all was a good first step. He nodded at her without a word.

“Excellent.” Majeeda gestured for the shifter to proceed.

Burch clambered up the short ladder to the trapdoor and slid aside the thin metal bar that kept it locked from below. He pushed the heavy door up until it fell back on its hinges, and he pulled himself through the opening and onto the roof.

Chill winds whipped around the top of the tower. The mists here were still so thick that the shifter could not see through them to the sky or even much farther than his feet. He sighed as he breathed in the open air again. Even clogged as it was with the swirling gray mist, it still tasted better than the mausoleum atmosphere below.

“Don’t forget to close the door,” Majeeda called up from the landing. “It does rain out there sometimes. I’d rather it didn’t flood me out.”

Without a word, Burch leaned over and pulled the trapdoor shut, letting its weight slam it closed. He stood there for a moment listening, and he heard Majeeda tap the door with her bony fingers.

When Burch was sure the wizard was gone, he pulled on the trapdoor’s iron ring. The door didn’t budge a hair.

Sleep called to Burch, but the shifter decided to tour his surroundings. If he was trapped up here, he’d need a good idea of what “here” was like. The assurances of the wizard aside, this was still the Mournland.

He had hoped the wizard would put him in the courtyard where he might be able to escape and find Deothen and the other knights so he could lead them back here to fight the wizard. The plan still sounded like suicide in his head, but Majeeda had foiled even that idea.

Burch padded to what he thought should be the north. Within just a few steps, he found the edge of the roof. A waist-high shield wall topped by a battlement lined it.

The shifter leaned out through one of the gaps in the battlement. The wall dropped away from it at a negative incline, slanting in toward the rest of the tower. The stones from which the exterior of the tower was made were all cut neat and fitted well and smooth. He had considered scaling his way down to the courtyard, but that seemed impossible now.

Burch picked up a small stone from the roof and dropped it over the edge of the battlement. He listened but never heard it hit bottom. Whether that meant there was no bottom to the moat or that it was filled with those oozes the deathless elf had talked about, the shifter couldn’t tell.

He walked a slow circuit around the perimeter of the wall, keeping his hand on the top of the battlement, bouncing his hand from one high section to the next. He walked for a long while, hoping to find a corner as a point of reference. It was then he realized that the top of the tower was not square but round.

A moment of sharp panic raced through the shifter’s mind. He didn’t know how he’d ever manage to get back to the trapdoor in this mist. He could crisscross the top of the tower time and time again without finding it, he was sure.

Then Burch realized it didn’t matter. The trapdoor was locked, maybe by magic. Even if he found it, he wouldn’t be able to open it. He was stuck out here until Majeeda came to let him back into the tower again.

His mind more at ease, the shifter decided to take a stroll across the roof, just to see if he might stumble across the trapdoor anyhow. That small victory would make him feel better, no matter how hopeless the situation now seemed.

Burch padded across the rooftop, scanning the floor ahead of him and to both sides as he went. He did so twice and never found the trapdoor. He decided to keep at it for awhile, to work off some of his nervous energy. He never liked feeling like he was in a cage, even one without a roof.

Burch had lost track of the number of times he’d crossed the top of the tower and was considering giving up when he tripped over something. He danced across it, regaining his balance, then spun about to see what it was.

Burch got on his knees. Instead of the iron ring in the trapdoor he’d hoped for, he found a large, iron mooring cleat that had been mounted in the tower’s roof with huge spikes. He poked at it for a moment, unsure what to make of it.

Then Burch noticed the rope still attached to the cleat. It was slack, so he picked it up in one hand and followed it. Perhaps there was enough of it for him to lower himself over the side of the roof and to the ground below. He might even be able to swing out wide enough to cross the chasm.

As Burch crept along, the rope cradled in his hand as if it was spun from gold, he realized that the line left the roof and wandered into the sky. Mystified, he followed it until it pulled out of his reach, then he backed up and gave it a tug. It was hanging from something.

Burch scratched his head. “It can’t be,” he said with a grin.

“One way to find out,” the shifter answered himself. He grabbed the rope in both hands and began to climb.