The Eighth Warden Ch. 003-004

Chapter 3

Seventeen years earlier...

"No, she isn't!" five-year-old Corec said to his half-brothers.

"Yes, she is," Toman insisted. "Your mother's buried in the crypt. Father's just never taken you down there because you're too little."

Corec couldn't remember his mother, but there was a portrait in the sitting room with Father, Isa, and Mother all together, dressed up in their finest clothes. Isa was Father's wife, and she was also Toman's and Branth's mother. Corec liked to look at the portrait sometimes, wondering what his own mother had been like. Isa had always said Mother had been her best friend, but she'd never mentioned anything about the crypt.

"I'm not too little!"

"I know you're not," Toman said. "Come on, I found where Father keeps the key. Branth and I will take you down there."

Corec stared at his brothers. They were older and liked to tease him and trick him a lot, so he was never sure when to believe them.

"Let's go," Branth said. "Unless you're scared!"

"I'm not scared!" Corec said, and followed them through the large manor house until they reached the door to the conservatory. Cook used one side of the conservatory to grow vegetables and herbs, but the rest of the room was empty. The boys played there a lot, because with two walls and part of the roof made from glass, the room sometimes stayed warm during the day even in winter, as long as the sun was shining.

The conservatory was kept unlocked, so they went in, then stood in front of the heavier door leading to the crypt. It was built into the back wall of the room—a wall made of stone rather than glass. Corec had never seen inside the crypt since it was always kept locked. All he knew about it was that it was where Grandfather and Grandmother had gone after they'd died. Did his mother really go with them? He'd never known Grandfather—none of the boys had—but he remembered Grandmother sitting in a chair and sleeping a lot.

"Let's see," Toman said, inserting the key into the lock and wiggling it around until there was a light clicking sound, then a heaver metallic clank. He opened the door and they all peered down the stairs. The sun shining through the conservatory let them see to the bottom, but they couldn't see much beyond that.

"It's too dark," Corec said.

"I'll get a lantern," Toman said. "While I'm doing that, you should go down, and then we'll follow you with the light."

"Why do I have to go first?"

"Because you're the one who wanted to go down there! I'm just doing this as a favor to you."

Corec had to admit that that made sense, but he still didn't want to go down without the light. "I'll wait till you get the lantern."

"Don't be silly, I'll be right behind you. I'll go get it now, and Branth will hold the door open so you can see down the stairs. We have to hurry, before someone catches us—I thought you said you weren't scared?"

"We've both been down there already," Branth added. "When Grandmother died. You're the only one who's never gone."

Corec was pretty sure his brothers were lying to him about his mother being in the crypt, but maybe if he went down first, he could prove it and show them that they couldn't trick him. Toman went off to look for the lantern and Branth took over holding the door open, so Corec stepped onto the stone staircase.

As he descended the stairs, the air got cool and musty. At the bottom, he looked around. He couldn't see very far into the room, but on either side of him were large, rectangular stone blocks. It looked like the tops were decorated in some way, but he wasn't tall enough to see how.

"Where's Toman?" he called out to Branth, looking up the stairs just in time to see the door swing shut, leaving him in complete darkness.

That was all right, he told himself. He was a big boy, and big boys weren't afraid of the dark. But it was certainly a lot of dark, more dark than he'd ever seen before.

"Branth, open the door!" he shouted in a panic.

When there was no response, Corec tried to run back up the stairs. Not able to see them in the dark, he caught his shoe on the first one and slammed his body down against the next several. He pushed himself up, dazed. He'd hurt his head, both arms, and his right knee, but if he cried, then Branth would win the game, so he wiped the tears away.

He started up the stairs again, slowly this time, carefully testing each one in the darkness with one foot before stepping on it. Partway up, he misjudged things and ended up tumbling all the way down, landing flat on his back at the bottom.

He'd hit his head again, and this time his mind was foggy. He got back on his feet, but everything felt floaty. It was almost like being dizzy, but without feeling like he was going to fall over.

When he tried to return to the stairs, he couldn't find them. He reached for them blindly in the dark, but he'd gotten turned around in his fall and he wasn't sure which direction to go. He started feeling his way around the room. Some parts of the walls felt like natural stone, and others felt straight and smooth. In the less floaty part of his mind, he wondered if the smooth walls were actually part of the big stone blocks, but in his daze, he couldn't remember where the blocks had been.

He thought vaguely about shouting toward the door again, in case Toman had returned and would open it, but his head hurt and he couldn't muster up the energy to yell.

Just then, his searching hands found an opening in the rough stone wall he'd been following. Feeling around, it was just big enough for him to walk through without ducking. The floaty part of his mind couldn't think of anything better to do, so he went through.

He ended up in a tight tunnel and followed it for a while, wondering if the stairs were ahead of him or behind him. He couldn't remember anymore. Corec had no idea how long he'd been searching when it finally occurred to him that he was lost.

Sitting down, he decided it was all right to start crying. Just as he did, there was a whisper, as if someone was talking to him, but the floaty part of his mind couldn't grasp it.

"Is someone there?" he asked.

You can hear me? You shouldn't be there, child. Can you return home? It was a woman's voice. She sounded kind, but Corec couldn't tell where she was. Her voice echoed all around him.

"Are you my mother?"

There was a pause. No, I'm not. You should go home now. Do you know how?

"It's too dark. I don't remember where to go."

Can you do this? There was a brief flash—almost a vision showing him something he didn't recognize. And then you take this, and it goes here, and take the other one and wrap it around... The voice and the visions continued in that vein. It reminded Corec of when Magda was weaving on her loom, only it was all in his head.

He tried to follow along. It was difficult to move things that didn't exist, but the voice was patient and waited for him after each step. Finally, he tied the last of the things around the other things, and a bright light appeared floating over his head, hurting his eyes.

Blinking, he looked for the woman who'd been talking to him, but he couldn't see her.

"Where are you?" he asked.

I'm where I am, the voice said. Corec felt a gentle pressure, and his curiosity about the woman went to the floaty part of his mind, joining everything else he was having a hard time thinking about. Can you see how to get home now?

He looked around and found that the tunnel, which he'd imagined to be miles and miles long, actually only extended about a hundred feet. He could still see the entrance from where he sat.

Getting to his feet, he headed back toward the crypt. "Are you coming with me?"

There was no answer, and after a moment, he forgot that he'd asked the question. By the time he reached the stairs, he no longer remembered he'd been speaking to anyone at all.

#

"Magda, have you seen Corec?" Isabel asked the housekeeper. She'd known Magda most of her life. The woman had originally come with her as her lady's maid when she'd first married Ansel. Isabel had promoted Magda when their previous housekeeper retired.

"Wasn't he playing with the other boys?" Magda replied. "I thought they were in the drawing room."

Isabel had checked there already, but had only found her two sons. The governess had the day off, but the boys had been peaceful all morning so Isabel had allowed them to continue playing on their own. She'd gone to check on them when they'd grown too quiet, but she hadn't seen Corec.

"I'll ask them," she said, and returned to the drawing room, Magda following her. "Toman, Branth, where's your brother? Wasn't he playing with you?"

Their heads jerked around and they looked up at her guiltily. "We don't know where he is," Toman said, obviously lying.

She drew herself up and said sharply, "Tell me where he is right now or I'll have your father ask you!"

They looked at each other, worried, then Toman spoke again. "We told him his mother was buried in the crypt, and then when he went in to look for her, we closed the door. But we went back later to let him out, and we couldn't find him."

Isabel felt sick to her stomach. How could her sons do that? They were mischievous, but they'd never been cruel before. And how would Moira ever forgive her if something happened to her only child? Isabel firmly believed her friend was still watching over their family somehow.

She, Moira, and Ansel had had seven good years together, the only dark spot being that Moira had had trouble carrying a child to term. Isabel had hoped their children would be the same age, but she'd given birth twice before Corec was born. Unfortunately, shortly after his second birthday, Moira had stepped on a rusty nail. The local priest wasn't a healer, and there were no others within a week's ride. By the time they'd realized how badly she'd been affected, it was too late.

"Why didn't you tell anyone so we could look for him?" Isabel asked.

"We didn't want to get in trouble."

"Well, you're in trouble now, young man. Magda, I'm going down to the crypt to look for him. There are some old caves that nobody's ever explored. Find Mr. Melvin and have him follow me, then send one of the guards for Ansel. He said he'd be visiting Lord Tammerly's estate this afternoon."

Magda looked worried, but went to do as her mistress bade her. The boys started to follow Isabel, but she stopped them with an upraised hand.

"No. You stay here and wait for your father."

She left them in the drawing room and headed to the kitchen for a lantern. After lighting it, she went to the conservatory, where stairs had been constructed that led down to the crypt. According to family legend, the cave had been discovered when the house was already half-built, which explained why the entrance was so oddly placed. At the door to the crypt, she found the key still in the lock. She turned the handle and opened it, then nearly dropped her lantern in surprise when she saw Corec coming up the steps toward her, dirty and with smudges of blood on his head and his shirt.

For a brief moment as the door swung open, she thought she'd seen a light that wasn't coming from her lantern, but then it disappeared. She decided it had been sunlight coming through the conservatory windows.

"Corec!" she said, kneeling and setting the lantern on the floor so she could gather him up in a tight hug. "You're all right! I was so worried!"

"My head hurts."

"We'll have Magda draw you a bath and see how badly hurt you are."

"I don't want a bath! I just got one yesterday!"

At least he was acting like himself, so whatever he'd gotten up to in the crypt must not have bothered him much.

"If you have a bath today, then you don't have to take tomorrow's. As long as you keep yourself clean."

"All right," he said reluctantly.

"Now, why don't you tell me what happened?"

#

Corec lay awake in his bed that night, wishing there was more light in his room than just the moon shining through the window. Not that he was scared, he told himself. It just would have been nice to have a little more light after the darkness of the crypt and the tunnel. Father had explained that the tunnels were caves that ran under the whole area, and he was going to have them bricked off so nobody else could get lost.

Corec was having a hard time remembering everything that had happened down there. Parts of it felt like a dream. He was pretty sure there'd been something shiny that had helped him find his way back out, but he couldn't remember what it was.

After Magda had gotten him cleaned up, Isa had taken him back down to the crypt and lifted him up in her arms to show him the sarcophagus with Mother's beautiful face carved in the limestone top. He'd listened as Isa had told him more about Mother than she'd ever told him before. She'd cried while she talked, so he'd tried to comfort her, but she'd just smiled through the tears and told him she'd be all right.

Corec heard a creaking noise in his bedroom, and wished he'd asked if he could keep his bronze oil lamp lit during the night. The noise came again and he sat up, looking around. The sound was coming from his door, and as he watched, it opened all the way. Toman and Branth crept in. Toman was carrying his own oil lamp, being the only one of the boys old enough to be allowed to light it by himself. He set it down next to Corec's, touching the wicks together first so both were lit.

"We're sorry," Toman said. "We shouldn't have locked you in the crypt."

Branth nodded vigorously. "We didn't know you'd fall down the stairs. That's why I waited until you were all the way down before closing the door."

Corec shrugged. They'd apologized earlier, too, after Father had tanned their hides, though this apology seemed more real since Father and Isa weren't standing over them and forcing them to say the words. Corec wasn't entirely sure why everyone had gotten so worked up about it. His brothers had played a trick on him, but they played lots of tricks on him. Sometimes he got to play a trick on them, too, but his brothers were older and better at it. His own tricks usually worked best when Branth helped him.

"We brought you these," Branth said, holding out two apple pastries.

Corec recognized them, since he'd had one after supper. "I thought Isa made you go to bed without dessert?"

"She did," Toman said, "but Cook had already made them. We snuck down to the kitchen after everyone was asleep. We were going to eat them ourselves, but then we thought we should give them to you."

"Oh." Corec thought about that. The pastries were good, but he didn't think he could eat two more after the one he'd already had. "Do you want to split them?"

His brothers grinned.

###

Chapter 4

Present day...

Five days after speaking to the tavern keeper about the bards, Corec was doing the same thing again at an inn in another small village farther west.

"They was just here last night," the fellow said, with a trace of a hillfolk accent. "Put on a right good show, they did."

"Did they follow the road west when they left?" Corec asked.

"I suppose they must have. Someone from the city really sent you this far out just to track down two singers?"

Corec laughed, trying to portray an air of harmless indifference. "Well, they didn't know know it would be this far when they sent me. It doesn't bother me any—they're paying me by the day."

The innkeeper grinned in acknowledgment. "Then I almost hate to disappoint you by mentioning that they just left two hours ago. I reckon you'll catch up to them shortly."

"I suppose I should get going, then," Corec said, passing a copper coin to the other man. "Thank you for the information."

Back on Dot, he headed west again, leading the pack mule. It was only midmorning, and he suspected his horse was faster than theirs. If he was lucky, he might be able to start the journey back to Tyrsall that afternoon. Barring any problems, he could make it to the city in time to catch the caravan back to Four Roads.

That, however, brought up a thought that had been gnawing at him. He wasn't entirely sure how he was going to capture two people that didn't wish to be captured. He'd brought several lengths of thin but strong rope to keep them under control once he had them, but the actual act of catching them was still hazy in his mind. He knew how to fight—he was good at it, even—but the bounty was for bringing them in alive. Not that he wanted to hurt them in the first place—they hadn't stolen anything from him. In fact, the man had deliberately avoided Corec and the other armed men who'd been seated with him. Corec was sure he could handle either one of them alone—the man was older, and hadn't appeared to be particularly strong—but two at once would be a problem.

Other than a belt knife, Corec's only weapon was his greatsword, which was hardly the sort of tool that would be useful for capturing someone alive and unharmed. What did real bounty hunters use? Some sort of net? Of course, the more rewarding bounties typically didn't require bringing in the target alive, which probably made the question moot.

He finally admitted to himself that he'd come on this venture almost completely unprepared, simply because he'd wanted to see the girl again. He was still fascinated by her eyes. And her hair. And the bit of cleavage she'd shown. Not that she was likely to be happy with him for catching her and dragging her back to Tyrsall to stand trial. The prison sentence for a first-time thief was typically short, but that didn't mean anyone would choose it voluntarily.

Rounding a curve, Corec saw two horses tied at the side of the road, near a copse of trees. Dismounting, he loosely tied Dot and the mule to a young tree, wanting to be on foot in case these were the two he was looking for.

He took his helmet off and walked slowly over to the trees. It wasn't possible to be stealthy while wearing his armor, but he wanted to have an idea of what he was walking into. As he approached, he heard the faint sound of voices. He stopped to listen.

"Why are we stopping so early?" a woman asked.

A man's voice replied. "The stable boy said the next village is a day and a half ride, so we're not going to reach it today. We've got firewood and water here, so it's as good a place to stop as any."

"I don't understand why you're in a rush to get to Dalewood. Isn't it small?"

"It's bigger than these villages we've been passing through. We can stay there for a few days, like we did in Tyrsall."

"We should have stayed in Tyrsall. It's huge."

"We're too visible to stay in one place if you want to keep doing this the way we're doing it. We need to keep moving. Barz getting nicked again should have taught you that. This was your idea, Katrin. We were doing just fine in Circle Bay."

"It would have taken us years to make enough money to get him released just playing music," the woman replied.

"Then don't complain unless you've got a better idea."

Corec had heard enough to know he'd found the people he was looking for. To avoid startling them, he began making noise as he walked forward.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" he asked as he walked into the trees, finally able to see the two thieves in a small clearing.

They looked at him suspiciously, eyeing the sword hilt poking over his shoulder.

"Who are you?" the old man asked.

Corec decided to try the story he'd been using on the trail. "I saw you two play outside Tyrsall. This would have been, oh, nine days ago, I think? I was with a caravan and some of the men mentioned you to a company representative. He sent me to see if you'd come back to the city. The company's holding a gala next week and they'd like to hire you."