Pendant of Fortune (19 page)

“
Why?” Helfer asked. Archie followed the discussion but remained silent.

“
I don’t know. Maybe just because he can. Out of spite.”

Helfer nodded. At Archie’s questioning glance, he explained, “Dereath’s had it in for Volle for years. For both of us, kind of. More for him, though.”

“
He doesn’t waste any time, does he, Hef?” Volle stared at the floor. “Barely two days, and already he’s found a way to make me miserable.”

“
Listen.” They both turned to Archie. “If he really is innocent, Captain Nero will figure it out. He’s the best detective Tephos has ever seen, despite his quirks. He’s booked hundreds of criminals. Only one unsolved murder in his twelve years there.”

“
Secretary Prewitt.” Volle said the name almost without realizing it.

Archie folded his ears back and narrowed his eyes. “Yes, that was the one. Still, I’m just glad at the chance to work with him on this one case. It will be educational and, my Lord, will help me enforce your laws better here in Vellenland.”

“
I’m all for that.” Helfer nodded. “But first get to the bottom of this one.”

They heard the grunting and heavy footfalls as the detective descended the stairs. He nodded to the guard, then joined the three of them and addressed Volle. “He is still in good health. He told me to tell you that he loves you too.” He stroked his whiskers. “I am going to ask Lord Fardew to allow you to visit with me. I think there are things he might tell you that he would not tell me.”

Volle sighed. “I don’t know what he could be hiding.”

“
If you did, he would not be hiding it very well, would he?”

Volle had no answer for that, and after a moment the large wolf patted him on the back. “You two can go on back to the mansion. Archie, escort them to the door, would you? Then join me back at the junction. We will need to finish the questioning quickly lest the nobles become restless.” He walked off down the corridor without waiting for an answer.

“
I think they’re already beyond restless, sir.” The weasel turned and gestured for Volle and Helfer to follow. They walked behind him, following Nero’s rapidly retreating back.

“
You don’t have to take orders from him, Archie,” Helfer said. “You’re a captain of my guard, too.”

“
I know, my Lord.”

“
If it bothers you, I can have him stop.”

“
No, my Lord. He’s brilliant. I’m proud to be working alongside him.” He grinned. “I can handle him, I’m sure.”

Helfer scratched his head and shrugged at Volle. “Well, all right. But bring any complaints to me.”

Archie nodded. “Thank you, my Lord.”

They reached the junction, where several royal guards were still guarding the various corridors. Two of them were talking to nobles, no doubt explaining why they couldn’t wander the castle freely. Nero had joined one group and was gesturing back toward the corridor. His booming voice echoed throughout the chamber. “I assure you, my Lords, it will not take much more of your time, but I am authorized by the King to take these actions.”

Volle ignored the voices and the general commotion, and the two weasels kept quiet until they reached the main gate. Only then did Helfer ask, “So what does the great detective think of all this?”

Archie shook his head. “He hasn’t told me.”

“
Orders you around like a servant and he hasn’t confided in you? Well, what do you think of it all?”

The weasel looked at Volle, then turned his head. “I don’t know yet, my Lord.”

“
You think he’s guilty.” Archie didn’t respond. “Archie?”

“
My Lord,” he began, and then caught Helfer’s eye. “I’m not yet completely convinced. But you must admit that the alternative is certainly less credible: that he stumbled onto the body by coincidence seconds after the murder.”

“
What if it wasn’t coincidence, Archie?” Helfer thrust his muzzle forward. “What if he were set up to be there at the murder scene?”

“
Set up, my Lord?” Archie’s voice was faint. “By whom?”

“
Well, Dereath.”

“
So he killed his own witness just to put the wolf in jail?” But Archie was no longer looking at Helfer. He was looking directly at Volle, and Volle didn’t like the glint he saw in the weasel’s eye.

Helfer didn’t notice it. “Maybe. He’s done crazier things in the past.”

“
My Lord…my Lord, your carriage is here.” Whatever Archie had been about to say, he kept back.

Renaldo was leading the small buggy up to the gate, and he waved cheerfully at Volle, but his smile died as he drew closer and saw the fox’s lowered ears and tail. His own tail drooped, and he lowered his head. “Your buggy, m’Lord.”

“
Thank you, Renaldo.” Volle turned to Archie. He wanted to protest what he thought the weasel was thinking, but he still felt numb inside, and he didn’t have the energy for it. “And thank you, Archie, for your help tonight.”

“
Good night, my Lords.” Archie bowed slowly.

They got into the buggy slowly and deliberately, sitting across from each other in the dark interior. Volle didn’t say anything as the shadows of the main courtyard gave way briefly to the reflected torchlight of the gate, then to the darkness of the mountain. From his window, he watched the glow of the torches at the castle dwindle and finally disappear as they rounded a bend in the road.

When he turned back to Helfer, he saw that the weasel was watching him. He leaned forward and put a small paw on Volle’s knee. “They’ll find the real killer. Nero’s the best, and Archie’s pretty good too.”

“
Oh, Hef.” Volle tried to keep his voice steady. “What if he did do it?”

“
He said he didn’t. Why would he?”

“
To protect me from Dereath. Once he heard about the witness at dinner.”

Helfer tilted his head. “You’re innocent, right? So what could the witness have seen?”

“
Nothing. But that wouldn’t stop Dereath, would it?”

“
I guess not.” He scratched his chin. “But how would he know how to get to Dereath’s quarters, or even know that that’s where the witness was?”

“
I don’t know.” Volle sighed miserably.

“
You don’t really believe that, do you?”

“
I don’t know what to believe, Hef.” The clatter of the wheels outside grew louder as they traveled over some scree; the buggy bounced and then settled back into a more quiet, even ride. “He was talking about how he wanted to help, wanted to be a part of things here, and wanted to take care of me. He just might have run off to do what he thought would be a noble deed, protecting me from evil.”

Helfer was silent. After a moment, Volle went on. “You won’t mention this to Archie, will you?” He saw the weasel shake his head in the dim light. “Thanks.”

“
Will you be okay? If it turns out…”

That was the question Volle had been avoiding in his own thoughts. He chewed on one of his claws, trying to control the turbulent emotions inside him. “I don’t know, Hef. I’ll have to be, won’t I?”

“
I mean, after…and now…”

“
After Xiller. I didn’t think I’d feel that way about anyone again. I deliberately tried not to. Someone you care about is a weakness, you know? A way they can get at you.” A weakness a spy could not afford. Though he couldn’t say that to Helfer, he suspected the weasel didn’t really understand what he meant anyway. Helfer had loved his parents, Volle knew, but he didn’t think Helfer understood romantic love. The weasel wouldn’t go so far as to suggest that Volle was better off without Streak; he understood how others felt and respected it. But he viewed it much as he might view the habit of bathing three times a day: an excessive indulgence.

“
But we were thrown together, and then ran off together, and this last year, away from the palace, has been…nice. Peaceful, you know. I thought it might always be that way. So I didn’t worry so much about what I was feeling, or what he was feeling.”

Helfer’s eyes gathered light from outside and gleamed as he looked at Volle. “So why did you come back?”

“
You have to ask? I missed it. You, the palace, Tish, even the food…everything.”

“
And you told him you did.”

“
Streak? I think he could tell.”

Helfer just nodded, but Volle knew the conclusion he was drawing: the wolf had perhaps sacrificed himself so that Volle could return to the palace that he missed so much. And Volle wanted to tell him that he was wrong, that Streak didn’t care that much about him or wasn’t that resourceful, but he found that he couldn’t. The wolf had a big heart and was smart enough to be able to find Dereath’s quarters, but what would he do then?

Could Streak actually kill someone? Volle didn’t know. They’d never been in a situation that demanded killing. How many people ever were? He clutched his head, and Helfer, probably pitying him, remained quiet until they reached the mansion.

Once they were standing in the courtyard, he patted Volle’s arm. “I’ll walk you to your bedroom.” He dismissed the waiting foot-servant with a wave. Volle followed him through the courtyard, looking up at the decorations and architecture whose small size seemed to accentuate the feeling that he was in a dream, even though he’d seen them before. They hadn’t come to the guest entrance for some reason, so he had to duck his head as he walked through the beautiful wooden doors, and had to stay crouched over while Helfer led him down two corridors and out into the guest wing. The feeling that the world was closing in on him abated somewhat when he was able to stand upright.

“
Listen,” Helfer said when he’d walked Volle into the guest suite and closed the door so they wouldn’t be overheard, “everything’s going to work out fine. He didn’t kill that mouse and Nero will prove it. You guys will be screwing in the rain again in no time.”

“
Thanks.” Volle knelt to hug the weasel. “And thanks for staying with me tonight.”

Helfer hugged him back. “Hey, what are friends for? And as your host, too, I felt responsible for you. Speaking of which…are you going to be okay tonight? If you don’t want me to stay, I can arrange for some company for you.”

The thought of another person in his bed was a jolt, but he kept his ears from betraying his surprise. “No thanks, Hef. I just want to get to sleep.”

“
All right. I’ll call you for services tomorrow.”

“
Thanks.” They embraced again, and then Helfer left, closing the door behind him, and Volle was alone.

He hadn’t been this alone in a very long time. There had been times when he’d been apart from Streak, but he’d always known the wolf would be there when he returned. He’d been alone in the dungeons in Divalia, but that had been over a year ago, and the circumstances were different; he’d thought he would soon be dead, so he was almost relieved to be alone. And before that, he’d had Helfer and Seir and the others. But he had felt like this for a short time, he realized as he walked slowly back toward the bedroom. He’d felt like this when he’d heard of Xiller’s death.

The image and scent of the cougar returned unbidden to him now, and he knew why. Xiller had died because he wanted to do something noble, something heroic, and he hadn’t understood how he’d been used. And Volle was now afraid that Streak had wanted to do something noble, something valiant for him, and hadn’t understood what he was getting himself into. And he was worried that it would cost the white wolf his life.

He sat down on the bed, fully clothed. He could smell Streak in the room, although the bedclothes had been changed. He found the shirt the wolf had worn the previous day, when they’d arrived—the journey seemed so long ago now. Bringing it to his nose, he inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, letting the scent remind him of the wolf.

Comforted, he lay back on the bed and let his thoughts return to that evening, and the murder. If Streak hadn’t done it, then it was an extraordinary coincidence. Such a thing was possible, of course, and it was possible as well that the whole thing had been orchestrated by Dereath. His claws dug into his palm pads as he considered that possibility. Or Streak could have killed the mouse because he wanted to protect Volle. That didn’t feel completely right to him, but he couldn’t make himself believe that it had been a coincidence, nor that Dereath had devised an intricate scheme that involved watching Streak or luring him to his chambers somehow and then killing the witness he’d brought along, upon whom his case rested (perhaps).

Those possibilities whirled back and forth in his head for several minutes, each one seeming improbable as he examined it, but he couldn’t decide which was
least
probable. He wished he knew more about the facts of the case. As it was, the one point that he kept coming back to was that he didn’t want to envision Streak killing anyone.