Pendant of Fortune (40 page)

“
Volle, what?” Streak looked bewildered.

“
Just under the tail, for canids,” Volle said. “That’s where the scent is strongest and it’s really the only place you can pick up enough to transfer. We never think about it, we just brush more scent into it. He got your scent and put it on the scissors before he stabbed her.”

“
You think Dereath did it?” Streak’s eyes were wide and round. “But he didn’t have time. And he didn’t go into the room anyway. He was outside in the hallway.”

“
He could have squeezed in through the hole in the wall.” Volle’s fists were clenched, and then his ears lay back flat as a memory shivered back to him.

Dereath’s paw slid around from there, rubbing him beneath the tail and gripping its base.

“
Don’t worry. I got what I wanted.”

He could feel his tail bristling out to twice its size. Streak noticed too, and his eyes and scent betrayed his alarm. “Volle?”

“
Stay here. I have a very bad feeling. I think I may have done something very stupid.” He stood abruptly and squeezed Streak’s paw before releasing it.

“
What?” Streak stood up.

Volle turned to him, one paw on the door. “I hope I’m wrong.”
But I’m not.
“Please, it’s best for you to stay here. Don’t get into any more trouble.”

Streak looked hurt, but stepped back. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

Volle flicked his ears up and softened his tone. “I’m not blaming you,” he said. “Dereath’s up to something and I don’t want you to get mixed up in it. If you leave the cell, you could be in a lot of danger.”

“
Okay.” Streak looked a bit less upset, though he was still far from happy. “Come back and tell me, even if you have to shout through the door.”

“
I will.” Volle threw the door latch, opened the door and slipped through.

The silence outside the door enfolded him. It almost seemed that the castle was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. He stopped at the top of the staircase, letting his nose look ahead for him. He smelled the puma, traces of other people, and then, as he breathed in deeply, the unmistakable tang of blood. He searched the air, but there was nobody else close, so he descended the stairs cautiously.

The puma lay sprawled at the base of the stairs, blood pooling below him. It trickled down his jerkin in a slow trail that began at the leather-handled knife planted in his chest. Volle stared at the body, heart pounding, and walked slowly down the stairs, unable to stop himself. The knife looked familiar, and as he drew nearer he realized where he knew it from. It was the knife from Dereath’s chambers, the knife the rabbit had used to cut him free.

He knelt down beside the puma. The scents were all clear to him now: the puma’s own scent, the thick, acrid tang of his blood, and another scent working its way to the surface. He bent over, cautiously, and brought his nose inches from the handle of the knife.

His scent was all over the leather.

Uttering a choked cry, he sprang back and stumbled, sitting down hard on the stairs. His sore rump hit the stone hard, and he yelped at the shock of pain. That sound seemed to bring the silent castle to life. He could hear footsteps in the corridor outside, and the thunk of the latch in the door above him. “What’s the matter?” Streak called.

“
Stay back!” Volle couldn’t take his eyes from the puma. He’d walked right into the setup. Dereath had engineered it brilliantly.

No sooner had he thought that than he heard the rat saying “This way! Before we’re too late!” He looked wildly back up the stairs, then down at the corridor. Neither option offered any relief, but he thought he would rather see Streak one more time. He tried to stand up, but his legs were wobbly. He’d just levered himself upright when he heard the wolf behind him.

“
What’s going on—Volle?” Streak was far enough around the corner to see the dead guard now. He gasped and stared at Volle.

Before Volle could frame an answer, Dereath and the stag guard appeared at the bottom of the stairs. Both were panting, and the stag had drawn his sword. They stopped cold when they saw the puma’s body on the bottom few stairs.

Dereath looked at the puma with a pretense of sadness, then up at Volle. “Look! He’s trying to escape with his lover.”

The stag, too, stared at the puma, but Volle thought his grief was genuine. When he looked up, his eyes were narrowed in hate. “Did you do this?”

“
No!” Volle said, but Dereath had bent to the knife and was gesturing to the stag to do the same.

The guard did, only taking his eyes from Volle for a second, and when he straightened, his gaze was murderous. “You whoreson. I’ll see you never come to trial.” He set a foot on the bottom stair.

Volle backed up just as Streak rushed down the stairs, and he had to hold the wolf back with one arm. “You’ll have to get through me first!” Streak shouted defiantly.

“
Hush,” Volle told him, and then two other guards came into view, a wolf and a goat.

Their arrival seemed to slow the stag, but when the goat grabbed his arm, he resisted. “He killed Arnie,” he protested roughly.

“
Let the King sort that out,” said the wolf, but his look told Volle that he’d already worked it out for himself. “You don’t want to be executed for killing a noble.”

“
Too right,” said the goat. “He’s not worth it, Rog. Let it go.”

“
I believe the other tower would be suitable for a cell,” Dereath said. He seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. “Why don’t you accompany Lord Vinton there, Forrin? Rogis, you put the white wolf back in his cell.”

The wolf guard nodded. “Lord Vinton, if you would accompany me?”

Volle jerked his muzzle at the stag. “Get him out of the way first.”

The stag glared at him and didn’t move. “Lord Vinton,” Dereath said, “you are hardly in a position to dictate terms, are you?”

“
I think Rogis should move aside,” said a new voice, and Archie strolled into view at the bottom of the stairs. “After all, we don’t want to risk yet another tragic incident, do we, Lord Fardew?”

Dereath whirled, and for the first time registered true surprise. Archie returned his stare blandly, and after a moment Dereath said, “Rogis, stand down.”

Reluctantly, the stag stepped down off the staircase and back out into the corridor. He continued to glare at Volle.

“
I’ll see you soon,” Volle whispered to Streak. “Promise.”

Streak squeezed his arm. “I’ll be okay. I know you didn’t do it.”

Volle nodded and smiled, and descended cautiously to the corridor, keeping his eye on the stag, whose sword was still drawn. The wolf, Forrin, put a large paw on his shoulder. “Come on, my Lord. Are you carrying any weapons?”

Volle shook his head, and then turned to all of them. “I didn’t kill him,” he said. “Just so you know.” The goat looked away, and the stag spat at him. The wolf didn’t react at all.

“
I think I’ll go with you,” Archie said. “Just to make sure nothing further happens.”

“
You don’t need to do that, sir,” Forrin said.

“
I think you had better stay here and examine the crime scene,” Dereath said smoothly.

Archie considered that, and then nodded. He stepped over to Volle. “I’m going to look around here. I’ll be in to see you presently.”

“
Please, smell this first.” Volle held out his paw, which had Streak’s scent as well as Dereath’s cinnamon on it. The knife, he was sure, held neither.

The weasel looked at him curiously, but obliged. Volle couldn’t help but notice that the smell of sandalwood, which he’d attributed to Dereath, was also hovering around Archie. “Mm,” Archie said as he stepped back. “I’ll remember that.”

“
Thanks.” Volle nodded to the wolf, who set off down the corridor. He followed, and it took him a moment to realize that the sandalwood scent wasn’t getting weaker. He turned his head and saw Dereath following him.

Seeing his look, the rat chuckled. “You finally slipped up this time, fox,” he said. “You think you’re so clever, waiting until the castle is deserted to try to break your lover out of prison. Now you’re both going to be tried for murder. Don’t worry, though. I’ll make sure you make it to the trial. I’ll assign you only the best guards.”

Volle noticed the wolf’s flat ears and thrashing tail, but he couldn’t think of anything to say that would help his case. If he told Dereath that he knew how he’d committed the murders, Dereath might not let Archie back in to see him, or he might decide that Volle was too big a threat and get rid of him right there, somehow. So he held his tongue, and resisted Dereath’s taunting until he was marched up a staircase similar to the one he’d just left, and thrust into a bare room.

“
Enjoy your new accommodations,” Dereath sneered, and closed the door. Volle heard the lock turn, and the slow march of paws down the stairs, and then silence again.

He let out a deep sigh, and started to pace the confines of the cell to distract himself from the furious anger building in him. The only windows were slits that he could get his paw into only if he turned it sideways. He stalked over to the ancient stairway on the opposite side of the room from the door, and mounted it quickly.

It led him to another small room, this one littered with debris from the roof, half of which had fallen in. He blinked up at the overcast sky and the soft light, and it took him a moment to realize that it was not dawn of the next day. So much had happened that he felt he’d spent an entire night since his stroll outside that afternoon.

The walls were about ten feet high, and even at their most broken down, he could not get to the top of them. He stomped about the room, growling in frustration, running the events of the past few hours over in his head.
Scent transfer!
How could he not have seen it?

Because nobody ever does it, he reminded himself. It only works with mustelids and canids, and to pull it off successfully requires such an intimate touch that the field of suspects is narrowed down almost immediately to one. And yet Dereath had made it work.

But he wouldn’t get away with it, Volle vowed grimly. Even if he stopped Archie and Captain Nero from visiting, Volle would get a chance to talk at the trial. He could see almost perfectly now how Dereath had done it. The witness
was
just a decoy, a piece of bait to lure Streak up to the room so he could be set up for murder. And Streak in turn had been bait to get Volle—and let Dereath have a bit of fun while he was at it. And the poor guard and the poor mouse were just pawns in Dereath’s game.

He growled again, realizing he needed to relieve himself and that he would have to do it here, in the debris, as no doubt Streak had done in his other cell. Feeling dirty, he did so, and marked it up as one more grievance Dereath would pay for—in addition to the painful wound, which started bleeding again as he urinated.

With the open air, the smell wasn’t so bad, but the knowledge drove him back downstairs, where he waited for Archie, pacing, standing, and finally sitting on the stone floor, back against the wall next to the staircase. His rump was still a bit sore, but it was bearable now, and except for the pain in his sheath, his other injuries seemed to be healing well. His neck and shoulders were still stiff, but if he kept his head tilted forwards, they didn’t bother him much.

The light from upstairs waned and finally vanished, replaced by a chilly wind, but the weasel didn’t visit him, and neither did anyone else. Some hours after darkness had fallen, he heard noises on the other side of the door. He remained sitting, but braced himself cautiously, ears perked forward.

He couldn’t make out what was being said, if anything. He thought he heard some chuckling and a splashing sound, and then the door latch was drawn back. The door opened slowly, and a paw pushed a tray through the opening. When it was all the way in the room, the door was quickly closed.

Volle’s stomach rumbled as the scents from the tray reached him, but immediately he caught another scent and he realized what the splashing he’d heard must have been. His stomach went from hungry to nauseous in a moment, but he forced himself to check. Halfway across the room, he stopped, ears and tail drooping. The tray of food he’d been brought had been fouled, wolf urine sprayed across the entire dish.

He walked back to the wall and sat down, breathing in the fresh air from outside. For hours he waited for the door to open again, and he didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep until he opened his eyes and realized that the staircase to his right was brighter, and that this time it really was dawn.