Shadow Chaser

9 And The Key Will Decide Who To Help

“Don’t even think about it, you’re not coming with me,” I hissed at Kli-Kli.

“That’s what you think! But I’m coming anyway!” the jester retorted.

“I told you, stay here!”

“Harold, you can leave me here, but I’ll still follow you, no matter what you do! And what’s more, you’ve got my favorite medallion hanging round your neck now. If you don’t let me come, then I’ll take it back.”

I gritted my teeth and gazed at the wall surrounding Balistan Pargaid’s estate. Not for the first time in the last five minutes.

Night. Silence. The moon and the stars were hidden behind the clouds. Only the light from the large lanterns hanging beside the gate made it possible to see anything. Ideal conditions for my kind of work. The darker it was, the easier it would be to get the job done. Although when Kli-Kli’s around, it’s best to forget about words like “easy.”

Almost a full day had gone by since we attended the count’s reception, and now here I was, lying on my stomach beside the wall of his estate. This was the perfect time to steal into the mansion house and take back what belonged to us. To be quite honest, I’d wanted to take the risk and break into the count’s home on the night of the reception, but Miralissa had insisted that we mustn’t act in the heat of the moment. Even the fact that Lafresa had shown up didn’t persuade her. When I told her about it, the elfess simply laughed and said that breaking the bonds was not that simple and the Master’s envoy would have to wait for an auspicious conjunction of the stars.

While I was making genteel conversation with the nobility, the others hadn’t wasted any time. Miralissa checked the house for magical surprises and discovered that all the windows on the second floor were protected by defensive spells. Egrassa got hold of a detailed plan of the house from somewhere (how he managed that, I have no idea!), and the Wild Hearts, who had smuggled a couple of bottles of fine wine from Master Quidd’s cellar into the estate, got talking with five of the guards and found out the actual routes followed by the patrols, as well as their schedule. So now I was all set. All I had to do was get in, take the Key, and get out before it was missed.

Really, what could be simpler than that?

And then, when everything was ready, and I was all set to get started, Ell, Egrassa, Markauz, Eel, and Arnkh announced that they were going with me. Of course, I was indignant at the very idea and fervently opposed it. The last thing I wanted was an entire crowd tagging along!

“And what if they spot you? Who’s going to cover you, Harold?”

“They won’t spot me,” I insisted stubbornly, but it was no use. The five of them set off with me, while the others started hastily packing all our things, so that when we got back we could leave the city immediately.

The elves dressed up in their dark green traveling outfits, smeared some dark gunk on their faces (which were already swarthy enough anyway), slung their s’kashes over their shoulders, and picked up their bows. Alistan set aside his sword of singing steel, armed himself with the battle-ax that had belonged to Tomcat, and dressed himself all in black, then he and Eel and Arnkh, who had pulled on a black tunic over his beloved chain mail, set off to protect poor little Harold.

His Grace was not at all concerned that this would effectively make him an accomplice to a burglary, a fact that was surely enough to dishonor any decent noble’s line for the next ten generations. (But then, if you think about it, there was no real disgrace involved: Everybody knows that most noblemen steal on a much bigger scale than ordinary commoners.)

The elves swarmed up the wall like two shadows and froze on top of it, with their bows drawn at the ready, covering Arnkh, Eel, and Markauz as they clambered over the obstacle. Then the dark ones jumped down into the count’s park and I was left alone. Egrassa had asked me to wait for a couple of minutes while they reconnoitered (meaning, while they got rid of anybody they came across). Well, I didn’t mind; I wasn’t going to weep bitter tears if the yellow-eyed archers took out a few patrols.

And that was when Kli-Kli showed up. I’ve no idea how the goblin managed to escape Miralissa’s vigilant eye, but a fact is a fact—the jester was lying there beside me in the bushes, stubbornly arguing that without his help I didn’t have a chance. The two minutes that the elf had given me were already long over, and I was still arguing with this little walking disaster.

“All right!” I said eventually. “You can go with me. But only as far as the house! If you make noise or get under my feet, I’ll strangle you with my own bare hands.”

Kli-Kli nodded.

“And if you fall behind, that’s your problem,” I warned him.

Without bothering to wait for an answer, I skipped out of the bushes, jumped up, and clung to the top of the wall with my fingertips. Fortunately, none of the count’s servants had thought of scattering broken glass along the wall—which in my opinion left a serious gap in their defenses. If that rotten crud had been there, not even my gloves could have saved me. Finely milled pigskin is no defense against sharp glass. And in any case, the fingers of my gloves had been cut off—it’s more convenient that way for working with locks.

I pulled myself up, threw my right leg over, and climbed on top, taking care not to impale myself on the spiky figures. I had to throw my arms out and bend my knees to keep my balance and avoid injury.

“Harold,” Kli-Kli whined, jumping up and down desperately, “I can’t reach!”

The goblin was too short to climb up on his own. I was seriously tempted just to leave him there. It would certainly have made things a lot simpler, that’s for sure!

But I gritted my teeth in annoyance and started unraveling the spider’s web. I had to help the goblin, otherwise Kli-Kli would never forgive me for abandoning him, and he’d throw a fit of hysterics right there under the wall.

“Hold on to the rope,” I hissed, lowering the spider’s web.

A shadow appeared beside me. It was Ell.

“Why the delay?”

“That damned goblin’s showed up! Kli-Kli, set one foot above the other!”

“That’s … what … I’m … doing!” the jester panted. Of course, he wasn’t getting anywhere, just swaying from side to side, like a sack full of stones.

I tightened my grip on the rope, at the same time trying to keep my balance on the wall. The slightest deviation to the right or the left, and those spikes were waiting for me.

“Let me help,” said Ell. And he gave me a hand, ignoring the spikes.

What a sight! Two shadows standing on a wall, trying to pull up a third. Fortunately for us, there was no moon or stars, and no spectators, otherwise we would have been in really big trouble.

Eventually Kli-Kli appeared on the top of the wall, panting hard.

“What are you doing here, goblin?” Ell’s tone of voice wasn’t exactly friendly.

“Obvious, isn’t it? I’m taking a breath of fresh air. Why do they build such high walls around here? I wouldn’t have bothered to come if I’d known. The villains! It’s incredible! They deserve to be robbed just for that!”

“Leave the talk until we get down!” I said, stepping over the spikes.

The elf flitted down like a silent, weightless shadow and stood below me.

I had to hang on with my hands, on the other side of the wall, then open my fingers and drop onto the grass. Of course, I could have jumped, like Ell, but what for? Why risk my legs when there was no need? It would really mess things up if I broke anything.

Kli-Kli was still sniffling up on the wall.

“Kli-Kli!”

“Coming!” the goblin squealed, and came crashing down on top of me.

I managed to stretch my arms out and catch him just in time.

“And now explain what you’re doing here!” said Ell, moving closer.

“I’m helping Harold. And don’t you look at me like that, you’ll drill a hole right through me.”

“He’ll stick to you no matter what we do, right, thief?” Ell said with a thoughtful glance at Kli-Kli.

“Only as far as the house,” the goblin assured Ell hastily. “Just what were you thinking of doing?”

“Tying you up.”

“I am the royal jester, and I will not allow any tusky-mouthed elf to tie me up! I’m warning you! I’ll bite and I’ll scream!”

“I’m wasting time with you two,” I exclaimed angrily. “You can discuss what to do next without me!”

“All right, let him go with you.” The elf had only two ways out of the situation. He could slit the goblin’s throat, or let him go. “But remember, Kli-Kli, if anything happens, I’ll personally skin you alive.”

“No need for threats … I get the idea. Anything happens, and I’m done for!”

“Good luck, Harold, we won’t be far away.”

“What’s happening with the patrols?”

It was very dark that night under the thick crowns of the trees, but I thought I saw Ell grin.

“We took out three of them, so the west wing’s free.” The yellow-eyed elf picked up his powerful crook-backed bow off the grass.

Fewer guards meant fewer problems. Now I had to run round the edge of the estate and make my approach to the windows of the west wing. It had to be the windows, because the central entrance was out of bounds—just like all the other doors leading in and out of the manor house, in fact.

According to Deler, who had drunk wine with the count’s servants, there were guards standing watch at almost every door—the usual arrangement for people afraid of a sudden attack. That left the windows, and only the ones at the back of the house, because there was only one patrol there, and the chances of being spotted were far smaller than anywhere else.

It wasn’t possible to break straight into the east wing of the house—there were bars on the windows of the second floor there. There was only one way to do it—get into the house through the west wing, walk along the incredibly long corridor to the balcony that overlooked the reception hall, and from there along the corridor with the pictures as far as the count’s bedroom.

“Time to go. Kli-Kli, try to keep up!”

It was dark; the massive tree trunks in front of us were black silhouettes. And then the lights of the house came into view. The only lighted torches were beside the central entrance of the mansion house, and there were four guards standing there. Or, rather, one was standing and the other three were sitting on the steps and making conversation. I couldn’t hear what they were talking about—I was too far away.

“They’re not sleeping, the skunks,” Kli-Kli hissed in disappointment.

“That’s their job.”

“Ah, no, I meant the ones in the house.”

There was light in the second-floor windows. They weren’t sleeping, and that meant I could run into problems. The Nameless One take those night birds! In my line of work there’s nothing worse than people who don’t go to bed when any decent law-abiding citizen ought to.

“Where to now, Harold?”

“See those little trees way over there?”

“Well?”

“We run over to them, then across to the wall of the building and up to the window.”

“They’ll see us!”

“Don’t talk so much, and do what I do, then they won’t see us. Or you can stay here in the park and wait for me, I don’t mind.”

“I think I can avoid attracting any unwanted attention,” the jester replied quickly.

The open space between the park and the house was about forty yards across. Mostly short-cut grass and beds (or, rather, entire fields) of roses. I tried to run across all this as quickly as possible.

There was total silence all around, not a sound but the light wind that had sprung up, rustling the crowns of the trees. No birds calling, no crickets singing. Kli-Kli and I had to trail straight through the flowerbeds, trampling the bushes of white and yellow roses cruelly with our heels. I could just imagine the curses that the gardener would call down on our heads the next day! The roses took their revenge by surrounding me with the scent of cheap women’s perfume. Disgusting!

The wall of the house suddenly rose up in front of me and I leaned against it in relief, catching my breath. Kli-Kli puffed and panted beside me.

“You scamper along faster than a royal messenger. I didn’t know a thief’s work was so hard.”

“And nerve-wracking, too. Keep up!”

The wall stretched away to the right of us. I crept along in front, with Kli-Kli right behind me, almost stepping on my heels. Unfortunately for us, there was no grass. Someone had thoughtfully scattered little stones on the ground, so we had to move very carefully—as if we were walking over dry brushwood.

The darkness was pitch-black, as if we were deep underground. Of course, it was hard for anyone to make out Kli-Kli and me now, but the trouble with darkness is that you can’t see the enemy, either. Just as we reached the corner of the building, a patrol of guards appeared out of the gloom. I froze instantly, and Kli-Kli blundered into my back with a grunt of surprise.

In the next three seconds I managed to do three things at once: pull my hood up over my head, stop the goblin’s mouth with my free hand, and try to melt into the wall—there was enough shadow there to hide ten Nameless Ones.

To give Kli-Kli his due, he never even twitched.

The three guards walked slowly toward us, talking to each other. That would have been fine, but one of them was holding a torch. In a few seconds the goblin and I would be in plain view.

“And I says to him, why are you acting like such a bonehead? You lost, didn’t you? So pay up!”

“And what did he say?”

“What did he say? He went for his knife, and—”

“Listen, Hart, if the captain of the watch finds out who killed Radish…”

“He won’t find out, if you keep your mouth shut. And it’s not my fault! Why bet on a cock fight, if you can’t cover your losses?”

“Radish is a fine one, grabbing his knife like that.… He was always a fool, and he died a fool! I won’t tell anyone, don’t you worry.”

“Thanks, friend,” the first guard said with feeling.

I started slithering slowly along the wall, covering myself and Kli-Kli with my cloak. I had to take my hand away from the goblin’s face, there was no other way I could load the crossbow. I held the little darling in my hand and tried to pull back the lever with as little noise as possible, drawing the string toward myself. A faint click told me that the bolts had slipped into position. If Sagot was feeling well-disposed, I’d have enough time to silence two of them, but that still left the third one, and the lad would have a sword.

The guards drew level with our flimsy cover and my finger involuntarily tightened on the trigger.

“Kind of cool tonight,” muttered the one with the torch.

“We’ll finish this round and drop into the guard room. I’ve got a little bottle tucked away there, ’specially for a moment like this.”

“What if Meilo nabs us?”

“He won’t,” the first guard answered jauntily.

The lads tramped past us and went on their way. Not one of them even looked in our direction. After all, what danger could possibly be lurking over by the wall?

“Meilo? He’d nab his own father, never mind a thickhead like you!”

“There’s no sign of Klos and his two.”

“Klos and his lads were unlucky today, Meilo sent them into the park—to protect milord from the savage squirrels!” the torch-bearer chortled.

“They should have been back ages ago. Maybe something’s happened?”

“Of course something’s happened! Do you think you’re the only one with any brains? Klos has a little bottle of his own, stashed away under a tree somewhere. And more than one! I reckon the lads will be sleeping the rest of the night on the grass.”

I’m afraid that after meeting Ell and Egrassa, Klos and company are never going to wake up again.

“Shall we go and look for them?”

“What for? Do you feel like wandering around in the dark?”

The guards’ voices faded away into the distance.

“Phew,” Kli-Kli sighed. “Are all guards born blind, or is it just them?”

“It varies. We’re almost there.”

All we had to do now was turn the corner and run along the far wall of the building until we reached the right window. I lay down on the ground and warily stuck my nose round the corner to check that the way was clear.

No one there.

There wasn’t a single light on at this side of the house.

“Here.”

I took out the cobweb and flung the free end of the rope upward, aiming at the balcony jutting out above our heads. The magic rope took a solid grip on the stone, without any grapnels or hooks. For my own peace of mind, I tugged on it a few times, checking the reliability of my stairway to the heavens. I couldn’t pull it off—I certainly hadn’t wasted my gold on that marvel.

“Stay here. Don’t make any noise and don’t even think of getting up to any tricks!” I said, glaring at the goblin menacingly.

“Yes, Harold.”

“And no matter what happens, don’t you dare climb up after me.”

“No, Harold.”

“If I’m not back in an hour, find Markauz and clear out of here.”

“Yes, Harold.” The little goblin looked like the most miserable creature in the whole of Siala.

“I’m going up. If anything happens, whistle. Only quietly.”

“But Harold, I don’t—”

“Kli-Kli, just do as I tell you.”

“All right, Harold,” the goblin agreed meekly.

I opened the clasp holding the cloak on my shoulders. It was a good cloak, no doubt about that; it was ink-black, like all my clothes, but climbing up a wall in it, especially a high wall, was rather awkward.

“Keep your eyes peeled,” was my final instruction to the jester before I jerked on the spider web and sent it a mental instruction.

The rope shuddered and started lifting me upward. All I had to do was brace my feet against the wall and watch the balcony moving toward me.

About halfway up, when I was poised between heaven and earth, I heard a loud hiss below me, something between a red-hot frying pan and an expiring viper. I had to stop and look down. Kli-Kli had almost all his fingers stuck into his mouth and his cheeks were puffed out, as if he was trying to look like a bugler.

“What’s wrong with you?” I hissed down at him.

“Danger!” said the jester, pointing in the direction from which we had just come.

There was a lone guard walking along the path that ran round the house. I don’t know what he was looking for, but it certainly wasn’t adventure. The lad was staring down at his feet, so he hadn’t even seen the goblin standing there right in front of him.

Kli-Kli started dashing from side to side, not knowing where to hide, and I gritted my teeth in annoyance.

“Where can she be?” the guard exclaimed. I couldn’t make out his face, but his voice was young.

Didn’t I tell everybody I’d have problems if the goblin was with me?

“Hey! You there! What are you doing here?” the guard said, lowering his hand onto the hilt of his sword.

“Come here,” Kli-Kli said, gesturing to the guard conspiratorially.

Sagot! What is that idiot doing?

The man started moving toward the goblin, without taking his hand off his sword or his eyes off the intruder. He was confused, because his enemy was so short and didn’t attempt to run away or draw a weapon when he was caught red-handed.

“Come on, come on. I don’t bite.”

“Bah, you’re that duke’s jester!” the guard said, stopping right underneath me.

“Of course I’m a jester! Who were you planning on meeting here? A h’san’kor?”

I tugged on the rope, giving it the mental order to lower me down.

“What are you doing here, you little rogue?”

There was no more than a yard left to the nitwit’s head.

The goblin kept one eye on my miraculous balancing act.

“Want a gold piece?” A disk of yellow metal glittered between the fool’s fingers.

Kli-Kli’s calculations were absolutely correct. There are some specimens of humankind who only have to be shown a coin and they completely lose their head.

“Yes!”

I wasn’t surprised in the least to see him staring hard, desperately trying to follow the movements of the coin.

I hit him with both feet, aiming at the back of his head. He was wearing a light helmet, so the blow wasn’t all that powerful, but it was quite enough for him. He slumped to his knees, clutching at his head. I opened my fingers and fell onto him, pressing him down with all my weight.

“Finish him!” Kli-Kli squealed, jumping up and down nervously. “Finish him!”

“What a … bloodthirsty … goblin,” I spat out, shaking my bruised fist.

The lad was surprisingly strong. I had to punch him twice on the back of his head, which was as hard as oak, and then jam my elbow into his temple before he condescended to quiet down.

I swung round toward Kli-Kli.

“What kind of trick was that you pulled?”

“I had to keep him busy while you were descending on him like the demon of vengeance.”

“I mean, why didn’t you whistle?”

“I can’t whistle. I tried to tell you, but you wouldn’t listen!” the goblin explained lamely.

There was a clank behind me. I drew my knife and swung round sharply, but it was only Ell. He was just wiping his dagger on the guard’s clothes.

The dead guard’s clothes. No one lives after he’s had the best part of a yard of steel run through his heart.

“He won’t shout now.” The elf’s yellow eyes glinted disapprovingly. “You always need to finish the job, Harold.”

“Get it over with quickly, thief. There’s no time,” Alistan Markauz put in from out of the darkness. “Kli-Kli, I’ll have a word with you later. Come with us. Ell, take the body’s arms.”

“Stop!” I told them. “The goblin’s bound to get you into trouble. He’s just one big headache.”

“I won’t get them into trouble!” Kli-Kli was offended. “If not for me, this dead man here would have spotted you for sure.”

“Listen, fool, do you see those bushes over there? They’re exactly opposite the window of the count’s bedroom. You hide in there until I call you. I’ll throw you the Key, and then you clear out just as fast as you can. Ell, you help him get over the wall.”

“All right.”

I jumped up, grabbed hold of the end of the rope, and the whole business started all over again. When I threw my leg over the railings and found myself on the balcony, there was no one below me any longer—no elf, no count, no Kli-Kli, no dead body. The spider web nestled back snugly into its usual place on my belt.

It was a small balcony that had been built for decoration, hardly even big enough for two people. The door, with glass panes set in a fancy wooden grille, looked like a rather frail, defenseless barrier for lads of my kind. But first impressions are deceptive—always expect some kind of dirty trick from such naked defenselessness. Fortunately I didn’t even have to guess, or waste precious vials of spells, in order to expose any magic. Miralissa had said there were defensive spells on all the windows on the second floor.

I didn’t know how they worked, but anyone who tried to climb into the house at night was in for a hot reception. The elfess had offered to create a runic charm so I could break through the defense, but I had politely refused. I’d been feeling very negative about runic magic just recently—ever since I read out an old scroll that I found lying about and drove all the demons into the darkness. (Well, almost all, Vukhdjaaz was an exception.)

And apart from that, I didn’t want to experience the clash of shamanism with human magic at close quarters. And I couldn’t count on Kli-Kli’s medallion, either—it only neutralized shamanism, not the magic of men and light elves. I would have to dip into my own reserves in order to get into the house.

I opened the small green bag on my belt and took out a vial containing a powder as black as the night around me. The cork came out with a pop and I kept hold of it in my teeth.

I scattered a generous sprinkling of the powder straight onto the door, put the cork back in the vial, and put the precious little item back in my bag. In the meantime nothing had happened to the balcony door, and I was already beginning to think that this time the elfess was wrong. But no, blotches appeared where the black powder had landed. They spread out, merged together, and then disappeared with a flash.

That’s done.

As I expected, the door was locked. For some reason people are never desperately eager to see me in their homes. What did I ever do to them?

I opened the lock in a few seconds. Actually, the thing on that door had no right to call itself by the proud name of “lock.” I pushed the door slightly open, parted the light, airy curtains with my hands, and slipped inside Count Balistan Pargaid’s house.

It’s pitch-dark in here. Where am I? I hope it’s not some old maid’s bedroom, or there’ll be shouting and screaming.

The floor in the room was covered with a carpet, so I didn’t make much noise. There was a thin strip of light under the door leading into the corridor. My eyes had already got used to the darkness now, and I could see pretty well.

I was in a large room with shelves lining the walls.

A library.

If I’d been there at a different time on different business, I would definitely have checked out a couple of the bookcases. The count was keen on antiquity, so I wouldn’t be surprised if there were books here from the early Dream Age, or even the Era of Achievements. On my way across the unlighted room I had to walk round a desk that stood out as a black patch against the dark gray background.

The heavy double doors of the library opened easily and I went out into the corridor.

It was empty.

That’s right, you respectable people, at this time of night the best thing to be doing is sleeping.

Unfortunately for me, some diligent swine had lit the oil lamps, and the little tongues of flame were trembling under their glass covers.

Now came the most difficult part, walking the full length of the corridor in this wing and slipping through a room or two to end up in the corridor beside the balcony overlooking the reception hall, then walking down the corridor with the portraits to reach Balistan Pargaid’s bedroom. Then I had to do what I’d come for, and go back the same way.

I tried to cover the dangerous stretch as quickly as possible. The thick pile of the carpet deadened my footsteps, and I didn’t have to worry about anyone hearing me. The doors on my right and my left were closed, and there wasn’t a sound from any of the rooms. I walked past one intersection where two corridors crossed. As far as I recalled, one of them led to the servants’ wing and the basement.

Aha, here’s the door I need.

I pressed down on the bronze handle, but it didn’t give. I had to take out my lock picks and fiddle with the lock, feeling for the spring. To say I felt uncomfortable would be putting it very mildly. Fiddling with a lock when there are lanterns burning on every side and any lunatic can see you from the far end of the corridor is nervous kind of work.

“Ah! Don’t talk n-nonsense, you stup-pid f-fool! I think what I s-said, was … hic! Yes…” I heard someone say behind the door opposite me.

“You’re drunk, O’Lack, where are you off to?”

“F-for a leak, you stup-pid f-fool! Or do you prefer … hic! P-pref … pah! Do you want me to d-do it right here?”

The lock clicked and I tumbled into the room and closed the door behind me, before the drunk could open his. I listened to what was going on the corridor. A man came out of the other room and walked away unsteadily. I stopped hearing his steps almost immediately—the carpet deadened every sound.

I was in one of the numerous guest rooms in this wing. And, to my roguish thief’s delight, it was empty. All I had to do was go over to the other door and open it to find myself on the balcony, so that’s what I did.

One glance was enough to make me jump back quickly into the shelter of the darkness. As the plan had shown, the balcony overlooked the inner courtyard of the count’s mansion.

For those who haven’t realized yet, the count’s mansion was built in the form of a square, with a little inner courtyard that was entered through a door on the first floor. There was a fountain murmuring gently in the yard, and a few feeble apple trees, with branches that barely reached as high as the second floor. A man was sitting under one of the trees, smoking a paper pipe stuffed with tobacco. The flickering of the little light was the only reason I spotted him.

Until that moment my plan had been very simple. Climb down the spider web into the courtyard, run to the wall of the opposite wing, and climb up the rope onto a balcony—and I would be close to the Key.

But thanks to this damned guard, all my efforts had been a total waste of time. He was looking straight in my direction, and if I climbed down the rope, he was bound to see me, even on a dark night like this. And running back through the corridors was pointless and dangerous; I could be spotted at any moment.

There was only one thing I could do—wait.

Should I put a crossbow bolt into the guard? In principle, it was possible, but in that kind of darkness I wasn’t sure that I could hit him in the neck. If I missed, then he’d probably bellow like a hog under the butcher’s knife and wake the entire house.

I sat down on the floor and started watching through the light, airy curtains. The little light flared up as he inhaled—he poisoned the air for what seemed like an eternity.

Eventually the guard stood up, stamped the remains of his paper pipe into the ground, slung his hefty crossbow over his shoulder, and tramped over to the door. I gave a sigh of relief, but I was getting ahead of myself. The guard swung round sharply and set off along the wall, then swung round again.…

He’s patrolling, the lousy dog! I really don’t like overdiligent guards—they’re always a big headache. And this lad certainly is.

There was no point in grinding my teeth—you only get one set. I sat back down on the floor and started counting the guard’s steps. Six … ten … fifteen … twenty-two …

I didn’t have much time, in fact none at all. I had to take the risk. I waited until the man turned his back to me and shot out onto the balcony.

Two …

The spider web took a grip and I flung myself over the railings and jumped, clinging onto the rope with both hands.

Eight …

It must have been the quickest descent of my life. If I hadn’t been wearing gloves, I’d have ripped all the skin off my hands, and the muscle along with it. But not even the gloves could protect me against the fire scorching my palms.

Ten …

I tugged on the spider web and it came unstuck from the balcony, fell, and rolled up into a coil.

Thirteen …

I leaped forward toward the really thick darkness under a feeble, stunted apple tree.

Fifteen …

The guard swung round and came walking toward me. Come on now, darling, you won’t even notice me until you trip over me. When the guard turned away again, I started moving toward him, making short little runs from one shadow to another.

Eventually I found myself behind the guard, who strode along like a mechanical toy, and I took my brass knuckles out of my pocket and smacked them against the back of his head.

The lad gave a grunt of surprise and started falling over backwards. I grabbed hold of him and sat him down on the grass, with his back leaning against the trunk of a tree. Just to be on the safe side, I unloaded his crossbow and threw the bolt into the fountain, then after thinking for a moment, I threw his bag with the other nine bolts in there, too.

Then I set the useless weapon across the lad’s knees and stepped to take a look at the result of my efforts.

That will do. From a distance he looks just like someone who’s fallen asleep. I just hope that this guard will sleep all the way through until morning.

Using the spider web, it took only a minute to clamber up onto the balcony I needed. The door here was slightly ajar, and there was a light draft toying with the white curtains. I took one step into the room and waited for my eyes to get used to the darkness.

There was definitely someone in the room. I could hear them snuffling gently. The bed over by the far wall gradually took shape, emerging out of the gloom. I had to walk past it to get out. When I’d almost reached the door, a floorboard creaked under my feet.

I stopped, wincing as if I had a toothache. The person in the bed turned over and started snuffling again. Another step, and another creak from a floorboard.

I almost jumped in surprise when I heard an indecisive little yap from the bed.

A dog!

“What’s wrong, Tobiander?” a sleepy voice asked.

Countess Ranter! Of all people, I’d ended up in her bedroom!

“Rr-ruff? Ruff!”

“What is it? Rats?”

The old woman half sat up, as if she was peering into the darkness, but she didn’t get off the bed. Fortunately for me, her damned little mongrel wasn’t the brave type, either, and he was in no hurry to sink his teeth into me.

“It’s all that detestable count’s fault, my little love! I told him I was afraid of rats, and his servants put us in a room like this. Even the floor squeaks here, never mind those horrible gray monsters! They’re just waiting to get at my poor little boy.”

“Rrr-ruff!” Tobiander agreed.

“Let’s go to sleep, my little one. Those disgusting rats won’t be able to reach us!”

Tobiander yapped again to calm his own nerves, and then shut up. My legs were completely numb from standing still before I heard the countess start snuffling again.

Trying to move as quietly as possible, I went out into the corridor, which was a precise copy of the one that my route had led me down in the other wing. The same carpet, the same lighting, and the same emptiness.

I moved forward, stopping every two yards to listen to the silence. One door on my right was slightly open.

“But who is she?”

“Keep your mouth shut. Some questions can put you in your grave.”

Paleface!

“All I did was ask…”

“And all I did was give you a piece of advice—less loose talk. You know the count is fond of shortening tongues that are too long. And I don’t know who she is, anyway. I was told to meet her, and so I met her. The rest of it is none of my business.”

“All right, all right, Rolio. Let’s just forget it. How about a drop of wine?”

“No. And stop smoking that garbage, I’ve got a splitting headache.”

“What are you getting so uppity about?” The man’s voice sounded offended.

“That woman makes me uneasy…”

I took a cautious peep in through the crack of the door and I was hit by a weak smell of charm-weed. Paleface and another man, the one who was smoking, were sitting on a table and casting dice. Each one of them had a tall heap of assorted coins in front of him. Rolio was sitting with his back to me, and I was really tempted to put a bolt between his shoulder blades there and then and get rid of him for good.

“I’m sorry, Rolio, it seems to me that you’re worrying about the wrong things. You have a Commission to complete. That lad’s still walking around and more than a month’s gone by now.”

“You deal with your own business, and I’ll deal with mine!”

I heard footsteps. Whoever it was, he was tramping like a platoon on Parade Square, so I heard him long before he reached the corridor. I jumped back from the door and looked around desperately for somewhere to hide.

“What’s wrong?” I heard the smoker ask in a surprised voice.

“There’s someone there.”

“Where?”

“Outside the door.”

I heard a chair being moved back. Seven yards along the corridor there were niches with huge vases of flowers, as tall as a man, standing in them. The niches were full of darkness, and I made a dash for them, hoping to hide behind one of the vases.

I barely managed to fit into the narrow space between a vase and the wall. I didn’t dare risk moving the vase, in case it fell over.

A man walked past me along the corridor, swaying about as violently as if he were on the deck of a ship in a storm, not the floor of a corridor. In other words, the lad was drunk, very drunk. He almost ran straight into Paleface when the killer dashed out into the corridor with a throwing star in his hand.

“Idiot!” Paleface barked with a contemptuous scowl, pushing the other man away.

The man collapsed onto the floor.

“Th-thank you!”

“There, you see, Rolio, nobody was eavesdropping,” Paleface’s dice partner told him.

“S’right, wasn’ lissening, no, not me. Honess! I’ve got lost!”

“Shut up!”

Paleface looked round the corridor with an expression of fury, turning the throwing star over in his hands, and then reluctantly tucked the weapon away behind his belt.

“Come on, Bedbug. And you, O’Lack, get off to bed!”

“Th-thank you.”

Paleface slammed the door angrily, leaving the drunk on the carpet. I could see that Rolio’s nerves were beginning to play him false. That’s what an uncompleted Commission will do for you!

I slipped out of my hiding place and set off. The drunk was trying to get up off the floor and he took no notice of me at all. If I’d started doing a shaman’s dance around him, singing and beating on a tambourine, I still don’t think he would have understood what was going on.

The corridor came to an end, and I walked out onto that unforgettable balcony round the reception hall. It looked empty and cold now, without the music, the servants darting about, and the nobles all dressed up in silk. There weren’t even any guards at the door. No candles, no torches, no lanterns. Darkness and peace, just pale squares of light on the floor from the windows. The moon had come out from behind the clouds and was peeping in through the tall arched windows.

The carpet came to an end: The floor on the balcony and in the next corridor was marble. Fortunately, it was the normal kind of stone, dark red with light veins, and not the Isilian pain-in-the-you-know-where, on which every step sets off a hundred alarm bells.

I could feel that tickling in my stomach and the call of the Key again.

There were widely spaced lanterns burning in the corridor with the portraits, and the shadows were roaming across the walls, playing hide-and-seek with each other. Balistan Pargaid’s forebears gazed out at me from the portraits, and somehow I failed to spot any friendly amusement in their eyes. Strange as it may seem, the men in the pictures stared at me with positively menacing expressions.

For a moment I was overcome with superstitious fear—I remembered a story that For had told me in my distant childhood, about men in pictures coming to life and killing a thief.

What nonsense! Superstitious nonsense, that’s all! I cast a quick glance at Suovik Pargaid and turned away. Sagot! Whoever the artist was that painted that portrait, the son of a bitch was certainly talented. I wouldn’t be surprised if Suovik tumbled out of the picture, straight onto the floor.

“I’m here! Here I am! The bonds are calling!” the Key sang to me.

There was no guard outside the door of the count’s bedroom. Yet another strange thing. Usually highborn individuals put a couple of guards outside their bedroom to defend their troubled sleep. So who was it I’d brought the sleeping spell for, then?

I took out my lock picks, put one in the keyhole, turned— It wasn’t locked. The door was closed, but it wasn’t locked!

I pushed it open, expecting to see anything at all in the bedroom, up to and including Balistan Pargaid’s dead body with its throat torn out (I had a sudden vision of the body of Archduke Patin and the Messenger, who had just dispatched the king’s cousin into the darkness). But no, there was no one at all in the bedroom. A huge bed standing against the wall took up most of the space. By the window there was a small table, with a lighted candle and massive casket standing on it.

The count was fond of ogre handiwork, and this item was no exception. It was made out of the same dark metal as the bracelet that we had presented to Balistan Pargaid. It was covered with half-erased runes, images of some wild creatures—animals or something worse than that. But right now it wasn’t the chest that was important—it was what was inside it. The Key was calling, and I took a step toward it, as if I was hypnotized.

“I’m here! Quickly! Take me! The bonds are calling!”

The sound of steps in the corridor shattered the spell. Someone was coming this way, and I hadn’t even closed the door behind me!

There was nowhere in the room to hide, and there were bars on the windows.… The bed! I took my crossbow out from behind my back and dived under the bed, hoping that the person walking along the corridor would go straight past the room and take no notice of the open door.

My hiding place was a bit cramped, but I could see the entire room (or rather, the entire floor). There was no dust, so I wasn’t afraid of sneezing at the wrong moment.

A woman wearing red shoes walked into the room. She stopped beside the low table with the casket, and the scent of ripe strawberries struck my nostrils.

Lafresa!

There were more steps in the corridor, and a few moments later a pair of tall, soft boots came into the room. Red shoes and tall, soft boots—that was all I could see from my hiding place.

“Is it time?”

I recognized the count’s voice.

“Yes, the stars are favorable. How does it open?”

Milord walked across to the table, there was a musical chiming sound and then several rapid clicks.

“There you are, Lady Iena.”

“Don’t call me lady.”

“What would you prefer?”

“Madam. Or Lafresa. That is what the Master calls me.”

“Oh!” the count gasped sympathetically.

“Save me! Quickly! They’re taking me! Save me!” The howling of the Key exploded inside my head, and for a moment everything went completely black.

There was nothing I could do, not even if I had a hundred crossbows! I didn’t believe an ordinary crossbow bolt would cause Lafresa any harm at all. All I could do was wait and pray to the gods.

“Step back, I have to concentrate.”

Lafresa started singing in a language that I didn’t know, and again the calls of the Key started ringing in my ears. The feet in the red shoes tapped out a strange, fascinating rhythm that wove itself into Lafresa’s quiet song and drifted in a leaden-heavy spell around the room, which was frozen in anticipation.

“Save me! I don’t want to go! Our bonds are strong!”

The pain in my ears was unbearable. I pressed my hands against my temples, but it didn’t help.

Lafresa’s song grew louder and louder, her words wove together into a magical music that chimed and thundered above my head. I could feel the bonds with which Miralissa had tied me to the Key breaking, feel it with my entire body. It was as if someone was smashing my fingers with a hammer.

“Our bonds are strong!” I whispered reassuringly, like someone under a spell.

“Strong!” I heard a voice say with a sigh of relief.

The pain receded a little, but Lafresa only had to raise her voice, and my fingers started aching again, and it felt as if someone had poured liquid lead in my ears.

“Our bonds are strong,” I whispered again.

“Count! I need blood, I’m not getting anywhere!” Lafresa barked between her wails.

Searing fire spilled onto my fingers, but I knew what to do. They couldn’t break the bonds while I was there. The Key was not alive, but it was still a rational being—and it was on my side:

Wasn’t that part of my best friend Kli-Kli’s prophecy? But to be quite honest, I was very glad that the artifact was on my side.

“Our bonds are strong, our bonds are strong, our bonds are strong, strong, strong, strong, strong, strong…”

How about that magic, Lafresa? Do you like it?

The singing stopped as suddenly as it had started—the only sound left was the woman’s hoarse, heavy breathing.

“What is wrong, madam?” The count’s voice sounded like a crow cawing—harsh, repulsive.

“I don’t know,” she said in a weary voice. “That amateur put such strong bonds on it that I can’t break them. Count, is that man who met me still here?”

“You mean Rolio? Yes, he’s in the house.”

“Remember, Player gave him the job of getting rid of a certain person, didn’t he?”

“That’s absolutely right.”

“Then let him do so immediately. If necessary, with the help of your army. The Key is resisting me, it senses the person who is bound to it. Let your man remove this obstacle, and then I will try again.”

“I will give orders at once—”

“Wait! Help me get to my room.… The artifact has taken all my strength.…”

“Your hand, milady.”

“I asked you not to call me that!” she hissed icily. “But I beg your pardon. I am simply too tired to be polite.”

I listened as their footsteps retreated, and then waited for a few more minutes to be quite sure there was no more trouble in the offing.

As quiet as the grave.

I crawled out from under the bed, released the string of my crossbow, and put it back behind my shoulder. I had been lucky so far that night, but I had to hurry; Lafresa could come back at any moment. And they had let Paleface off the leash.…

The candle standing on the table had burned halfway down, and the casket was closed. Lafresa’s shamanism may have exhausted her, but the Master’s maidservant had remembered to slam down the lid, and probably thrown in a bit of extra magic as well.

The chances of the casket being sealed with the magic of humans and light elves were negligible, but I wasn’t going to take any risks, and decided to check things first.

I opened the window of the bedroom and looked out. There was no movement in the bushes under the window, so I could only hope that Kli-Kli was still hiding in there somewhere.

The light wind immediately blew out the candle. Well, to the darkness with it! The moon was shining so brightly that it was still quite light in the room anyway. I took the vial I needed out of my bag, and poured a drop of liquid onto the lid of the casket. It spread out and stopped moving. There was absolutely no human magic here at all, otherwise the drop would have disappeared. There was either shamanism, or nothing.… I would have to put my trust in Kli-Kli’s medallion.

I licked my dry lips and reached out for the casket. It was terrifying, like picking up red-hot coals or a poisonous snake.… What if the goblin’s medallion didn’t protect me against any shamanic spells that were on it?

Nothing. No effect. No thunder, no lightning, no voices of the gods. The casket seemed absolutely normal, with no magic at all. Could I really have been wrong about Lafresa?

I couldn’t see any keyhole, but the lid stubbornly refused to budge. This little trinket had a secret, I could fiddle with it like this until the end of time—it would be better to take it with me. I tried to lift it and gasped in amazement.

It was heavy!

So heavy that I could hardly even lift it off the table.

Trying to drag a weight like that all the way through the house could cost me my life. I felt all the projections and surfaces, hoping to find a concealed spring, but the lid remained immovable.

I recalled that when the count opened the casket, there had been several clicks. Did that mean that it was activated by two or three springs at once?

Very probably it did.

I changed my approach, pressing the figure of the half bird, half bear with one finger, and the skull at the feet of that creature with another, and trying to pry the lid open with my nail. Useless …

Hmm … and what had made the music before Balistan Pargaid opened the lock, if I might ask?

I had to examine the metal box very closely again. There it was—a harp stamped into the lid, and the half bird, half bear had a reed pipe in its mouth. Right, let’s give it a try.… That’s it!

The pipe and the harp both shifted inward at the same time, the casket gave a quiet musical jingle, and the lid opened, inviting me to feast my eyes on what it was guarding.

The Key lay on black velvet. Slim, woven out of crystal cobweb gossamer and icy dreams, it looked as if a single hot breath would be enough to break it. But that was not so; the dragon’s tears that it was made of could only be carved with magic and diamond cutters, which had to act together and be guided skillfully.

I reached my hand out for the artifact, and Kil-Kli’s medallion immediately seared my skin with cold fire. A yellowish haze sprang up around the Key and immediately disappeared again, leaving colored rings in front of my eyes from the sudden flash. Thank you to the goblin’s trinket—if Kli-Kli hadn’t found it, I don’t like to think what might have happened to me.

I took the Key and clenched it in my fist.

“Our bonds are strong,” it whispered to me happily one last time and fell silent.

That was it. Now it was time to be leaving the count’s hospitable home!

I heard a menacing growl behind me. Trying not to make any sudden movements, I turned round to face the door in order to get a look at the newcomer.

A dog.

A big dog.

Very big.

A huge imperial dog. It was bigger than any dog I’d ever seen in my life—massive paws, a huge great head, a docked tail like the branch of a tree, ears that stuck out, a short smooth coat and … teeth.…

The hound was yellowish red, with a black face and paws. As taut as a loaded crossbow. The hair on the beast’s mane was standing up on end, and there was a menacing gurgling sound coming from his throat. A dog like that wouldn’t bark and call his master—he would finish the job without help.

I looked at him, he looked at me. Still trying not to make any sudden movements, I moved back to the window, but there were bars on it. The only way I could get out was through the door. I had to kill the dog, otherwise I would never get out.

I reached for the crossbow. The dog exploded into a hurricane of fangs and furiously flashing eyes, and in a split second the beast had covered the yards between us and frozen just one inch away from Harold’s most precious possessions.

The dog raised its upper lip, displaying his impressive collection of teeth. Don’t be so boastful, you dumb brute.

“All right, all right!” I chirped, showing the dog my empty hands. “I’m not armed! I just got an itch on my back!”

Oh, sure! I believe you all right! said the dog’s piercing eyes

He gave another threatening snarl, snapped his teeth together, and backed off a yard.

“And now what?”

You tell me. I swear to Sagot, that’s what he thought!

“Listen, I got in here by accident. I’ll be going now, okay?” I felt like a total idiot, talking to a dog.

The beast leaned its head to one side, gave me a searching look. A pink tongue lolled out of his mouth.

I’m not that stupid.

I decided to try a different approach.

“Goo-ood boy! What a fine, handsome fellow!”

The massive beast put his tongue away, narrowed his eyes, and gave me a suspicious look, sensing a trick. Then he lay down on the floor and lowered his head onto his front paws: Let’s see what else this two-legs has to say.…

“Ah, what a handsome dog,” I coaxed. The dog’s eyes glazed over with boredom. “Let me go, eh?”

The dog snorted. He wasn’t going to tear me to pieces, even though that would be no problem for him. The beast had decided to wait until his master came into the room and I was caught red-handed.

So where does that get us? Nowhere. I couldn’t reach for my crossbow, this hound cursed by the darkness had been trained. If I tried to grab my knife, he’d probably snip off some part of my body.

So what did that leave? I had a few battle spells in my bag, in case of an absolute emergency. It was worth a try.

The beast responded to my attempt to reach into the bag with a menacing snarl. I jerked my hand away in a hurry.

“Listen, what do you want me for? Why don’t I just bring you a bone?”

The hound only yawned at that. I pressed my back against the windowsill and hissed through the window.

“Kli-Kli! Kli-Kli!”

“Yes!” said a squeaky voice below me. “What’s taking so long?”

“I’ve got problems!”

“Oh!” said the voice. “What kind?”

“A dog.”

“I thought dogs were man’s best friend.”

Was he trying to be funny?

“Well, he doesn’t know that!”

“Then get rid of him!”

The dog listened curiously to the squeaky sounds coming from the window, turning his head this way and that.

“I can’t even raise my hands! Find the elves, maybe they can help!”

“Where am I going to find them now? All right, don’t go away! I’ll only be a moment.”

What was that he said? “Don’t go away”? Yes, I think I’ll take his invaluable advice.

The jester was gone for a long time. A very long time. The dog was clearly bored, waiting for someone to come and praise him for cornering his quarry. I was quietly oozing sweat. When a short figure wrapped from head to toe in a black cloak appeared in the doorway, my heart dropped into my boots. I thought the guards had arrived.

“Mmm, he’s a big one, all right,” Kli-Kli said warily, approaching the huge beast without hurrying.

The beast jumped up, snarling menacingly, and backed off, trying to keep one eye on me and one on the goblin.

“Where are Egrassa and Ell?”

“I couldn’t find them. Nice little doggy!”

The hound snarled even louder. He had obviously never been insulted like that in his life. Somehow the word “doggy” would never have occurred to me, let alone “nice.” No doubt about it, goblins are strange folk.

“Do you want me dead? Don’t make him angry! Where have you been roaming all this time?”

“I haven’t been roaming, I’ve been trying to get you out of trouble,” the jester said in an offended tone of voice. “Now we’ll fix him.”

The hound pricked up his ears and showed us his teeth. Kli-Kli just smiled at him and brought out what he had been holding behind his back.

A cat! A fat ginger cat, as sleek as a fattened hog! Where did the goblin manage to get hold of that?

The goblin opened his fingers, and the cat flopped onto the floor. I don’t think he’d realized yet just what a crucial and unpleasant turning point had arrived in his catty life. The dog howled like an evil spirit that has just seen an exorcist and forgot all about us as he made a dash for his natural prey.

The cat might not have grown up out on the street (he was too well fed and pampered for that) but he was no fool, that’s for sure! The ginger butterball pulled in his claws and took off like greased lightning—which was quite incredible with his figure. And the hound followed, just a few steps behind.

“Where did you find him?” I gasped in amazement.

The fool gave a cunning smile.

“In the count’s kitchen, of course! You saw how well fed he was!”

“Right,” I replied stupidly, still not believing that an idiotic trick thought up by Stalkon’s fool could have been so effective.

“What do you mean, ‘Right’? Have you got the Key? Then in the name of darkness, why are you just standing there gaping? Do you want to wait for that crocodile to eat the cat and come back for our livers? Let’s get moving!”

We slipped out into the corridor, galloped past the pictures, flew out into the hall, and then hurtled into the next corridor.

“Shhhhh,” I said, putting one finger to my lips.

Kli-Kli nodded and started moving along on tiptoe. We stopped beside the vases where I had hidden earlier.

“Where to now, Harold?”

I thought hard. The route I had followed on my own was no good for two. Especially since it led out onto the balcony through the countess’s room. Creeping through any of the other rooms was out of the question; we’d probably run into a ferocious baron with a sword who wouldn’t think twice before he ran us through.

“Kli-Kli, how did you get into the house?” I asked with a sudden flash of insight.

“Through the basement window.” The goblin made a wry face. “You’re too big to get through it. But I could cut you into pieces and stick you through.…”

“Kli-Kli, this is no time for jokes.”

“It’s exactly the right time. But if you can’t even manage a polite ‘ha-ha,’ then don’t bother! We can try to get through the kitchen.”

“The kitchen?” I didn’t have a plan of the first floor, and I only had a vague idea of its layout.

“That’s where they cook the food,” the little wretch explained. “It’s on the way to the basement.”

“Lead on.”

The door of the room where Paleface and his friend had been sitting was wide open. The room was empty, apart from a faint smell of charm-weed. Paleface had already received his orders to find Harold.…

Kli-Kli led me to a stairway that went down to the first floor. It took us into the servants’ wing. The walls here were gray and not so looked-after as on the second floor. There were no rich furnishings here. No pictures, no carpets, no statues or vases in niches. Even the oil lamps had been replaced by smoky torches that left black trails on the walls.

“Now where?”

“Right.”

Behind the kitchen door we could hear dishes clattering and voices talking.

“There’s someone there,” I said, stating the absolutely obvious.

“You think I don’t know that? How easy do you think it was to steal that cat from the fat cook?”

Why hadn’t I realized that the kitchen would be working? The cooks in houses like this rarely went to bed. One kept the fire going in the hearth, another one decided what delicacies to prepare for Balistan Pargaid this fine morning, and another cooked for the guests.… With all this fuss and bother, I’d completely forgotten about that.

“Then why in the name of darkness did you bring me here?”

“You asked me to, so I did. And don’t you look at me like that, Dancer in the Shadows! As if I didn’t know you’ve got three little bottles of muck for putting people to sleep in that bag of yours! Or are you just too plain cheap to use them? You carry that stuff around for much longer, and it’ll go sour!”

One of Kli-Kli’s little weaknesses is that he likes to rummage through other peoples’ things while the owner isn’t there. So it’s not surprising that the goblin knew all about the contents of my bag.

I had to start clinking the bottles about, looking for the right one. Then I opened the door and flung the bottle in, catching a brief glimpse of the cooks’ startled faces before I slammed the door shut again. There was an ominous-sounding oomph!

I’m afraid Count Balistan Pargaid will have to go without breakfast this morning.

“And now what?”

“We wait.”

“Now accept it, Harold. Without my help you’d never have got out of here alive.”

“Okay. And now shut up!”

“Oh, how serious we are! And how fierce,” the goblin muttered to himself. “Listen, Harold,” he snapped after a short pause, “we can’t wait any longer. We really can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” Kli-Kli grunted, and pointed behind me.

My old friend the imperial dog stood at the far end of the corridor. His face looked a bit battered, somehow. The look he gave us wasn’t exactly beaming with benevolence, either.

“It looks as if he didn’t catch the cat,” Kli-Kli said.

The dog came dashing at us, taking huge bounds. The goblin squealed like a five-year-old girl who’d just found a live mouse on her plate.

“Hold your breath!” I shouted.

We tumbled into the kitchen and slammed the door shut right in the dog’s face. The beast responded to this dirty trick by barking deafeningly. Kli-Kli slammed home the bolt and ran along the line of tables and hot stoves, jumping over the bodies of the sleeping servants.

The remains of the sleepy fumes were still swirling around on the floor, and I tried not to breathe. Kli-Kli pushed open the door at the other end of the kitchen, and we found ourselves outside.

“Well, he really went wild!” Kli-Kli exclaimed admiringly. “I wonder what’s going to happen to us if he manages to break out?”

I could hear the barking even from there.

“Someone’s bound to come to check why the count’s dog is making such a racket. We need to clear out as soon as possible. Move it!”

We had to run across to the park in short bursts, hiding from the guards in the shadows and the bushes. Kli-Kli almost ran straight under the feet of one of the guards, and I just managed to save the goblin from disaster at the very last moment.

The gentle whispers of the night welcomed us into the dark park, with its sleeping trees.

“Where are the others?” Kli-Kli whispered, turning his head right and left.

“Let’s get to the wall, we’ll figure things out there.”

When the count found out the Key was missing, he’d be furious—and that’s putting it mildly. As for the way Lafresa will feel, I won’t even try to say—she let the Master down again, so now she would be in really hot water.

Egrassa met us halfway to the wall.

“Is the job done?”

“Yes.”

The elf gave a call like a night bird. There was an answer from somewhere beyond the trees.

“Let’s pull out.”

When we reached the wall, Arnkh and Alistan had already clambered over it, and Ell was waiting for us with his bow at the ready.

“The goblin first.”

Egrassa jumped up onto the wall. I tossed the goblin up, and the elf caught him and passed him into the arms of the men standing on the other side. Then it was my turn. I jumped, and Egrassa and Ell pulled me up. When Little Bee saw me, she whinnied in greeting. I took the Key out and tossed it to Alistan. He caught it and nodded.

“Well done, thief.”

Oho! That was the first time I’d ever heard a note of approval in his voice.

“We have to get clear of Ranneng tonight,” the count said, striking his horse with his heels to set it moving.

I offered up thanks to Sagot. In the few days we had spent in this city, I had learned to hate it with all my heart.