The White Rose

Thirty A Barrowland night

It took Goblin and One-Eye only minutes to examine the house. “No traps,” One-Eye announced. “No ghost, either. Some old resonances of sorcery overlaid by more recent ones. Upstairs.”

I produced a scrap of paper. Upon it were my notes from the Bomanz letters. We went upstairs. Confident though they were, Goblin and One-Eye let me go first. Some friends.

I checked to make certain the window was shuttered before permitting a light. Then: “Do your stuff. I’ll poke around.” Tracker and Toadkiller Dog remained in the doorway. It was not a big room.

I examined book titles before starting a serious search. The man had had eclectic tastes. Or had collected what was cheapest, perhaps.

I found no papers.

The place did not look ransacked. “One-Eye. Can you tell if this place was searched?”

“Probably not. Why?”

“The papers aren’t here.”

“You looked where he hid stuff? Like he said?”

“All but one.” A spear stood in a corner. Sure enough, when I twisted it, its head came off and revealed a hollow shaft. Out came the map mentioned in the story. We spread it on the table.

Chills crept up my back.’

This was real history. This chart had shaped today’s world. Despite my limited grasp of TelleKurre and my even more feeble knowledge of wizardly symbols, I felt the power mapped there. For me, at least, it radiated something that left me teetering on the boundary between discomfort and true dread.

Goblin and One-Eye did not feel it. Or were too intrigued. They put their heads together and examined the route Bomanz used to reach the Lady.

“Thirty-seven years of work,” I said.

“What?”

“It took him thirty-seven years to accumulate that information.” I noticed something. “What’s this?” It was something that should not have been there, as I recalled the story. “I see. Our correspondent added notes of his own.”

One-Eye looked at me. Then he looked at the chart. Then he looked at me again. Then he bent to examine the route on the map. “That has to be it. No other answer.”

“What?”

“I know what happened.”

Tracker stirred uncomfortably.

“Well?”

“He tried to go in there. The only way you can. And couldn’t get out.”

He had written me saying there was something he had to do, that the risks were great. Was One-Eye right?

Brave man.

No papers. Unless they were hidden better than I thought. I would have Goblin and One-Eye search. I made them reroll the chart and return it to the spear shaft, then said, “I’m open to suggestions.”

“About what?” Goblin squeaked.

“About how to get this guy away from the Eternal Guard. And how we get his soul back inside him so we can ask him questions. Like that.”

They did not look enthused. One-Eye said, “Somebody will have to go in there to see what’s wrong. Then spring him and guide him out.”

“I see.” Too well. We had to lay hands on the living body before doing that. “Look this place over. See what you can find that’s hidden.”

It took them half an hour. I became a nervous wreck. “Too much time, too much time,” I kept saying. They ignored me.

The search produced one scrap of paper, very old, which contained a cipher key. It was folded into one of the books, not really hidden. I tucked it away. It might be used on the papers back at the Hole.

We got out. We got back to Blue Willy with’out being detected. We all heaved sighs of relief once we reached our room.

“What now?” Goblin asked.

“Sleep on it. Tomorrow is soon enough to start worrying.” I was wrong, of course. I was worrying already.

With each step forward it became more complicated.