Of course if they were really focused they might be able to find a way inside.
Moving quickly I showered, dressed, and hid the parchment on my person before the door began to open.
I swung it the rest of the way, sending the faeries tumbling in the air.
“No time for games, ladies. I have a new job. And no you can’t follow me.” An idea stopped me at the front door when they started buzzing behind me. “You realize that squirrel family was talking about you, don’t you? It’s all over town.”
The faeries looked torn as I opened the door, tiny little faces scrunched up in concern as they argued in faery. Finally, they swarmed their castle, grabbed their pitchforks, and flew out the door.
Clearly Alric’s command only went so far when interspecies warfare was at hand. I was going to face another two-penny fine if they got caught again, but for an afternoon of freedom, that was two pennies well spent. Besides, hopefully by the time they came back, Alric’s command would have been forgotten like most things that went through those heads.
I had told Thaddeus that I’d pick up my papers at the Museum of Antiquities office myself. As my patron he could have retrieved them, but I actually loved going into the museum and couldn’t afford to unless it was on business. They controlled all digging in Beccia in fact they were the main hub for all digging in the entire kingdom. Our little dig here had become so big that Beccia was beginning to be a place of importance. When I’d first moved here, the museum was a small, dusty, single-room office. Now it rivaled the mansions up on The Hill in grandeur.
Two guardsmen, mostly for show, their swords were probably glued to the scabbards, nodded seriously as I walked up the steps. They had that, ‘we’re being polite but we’re watching you’ look.
I ignored them.
The front chamber always took my breath away. The best of the finds were stored here, donated by the patrons who backed the digs that found them. Of course it wasn’t a voluntary donation really. Not if a patron wanted to keep receiving site grants.
The front room wasn’t free to view unless you were there on official business. Oh, you could walk in, look around for about three minutes before one of the Antiquities’ harridans came and made you pay or flee. I must be looking particularly grim today, one was already zooming in on me, and it had been under a minute.
“See here, it is ten coppers to view the collection.” The woman was huge, reminding me of the minotaur breed that had been working for Cirocco. She didn’t have any of the minotaur features, her head was roughly non-bullish, but her build and temperament weren’t.
“I’ve got a job, I’m here to pick up my papers.” I only turned slightly from the 5th century sculpture before me. I wanted to soak in as much of the majesty of this room as possible. Besides, I immediately didn’t like her.
“Really?” Her voice overflowed with scorn, she tried to fold her arms in contempt, but her biceps were too big.
I finally turned to face her completely. “Yes, with Dr. Thaddeus. He would have filed the papers yesterday?”
A snort, clearly from the more bullish side of her family swamp, escaped as she turned and marched to the most severe desk I’d ever seen. “I seriously doubt that. Dr. Thaddeus is a well-respected patron of the museum, he would never—” As she spoke she had been flipping through her large collection of sheets, she froze when a snake lifted its head at her.
Actually, it was my file, but the look on her face said snake.
She looked through the document, then up at me, then flashed down to the page again.
“Hmmph,” she said. “No accounting for taste. I assume you are the Taryn St. Giles? The one in my folder? The one with questionable deaths on her conscience?”
Deaths? What the hell, I was only charged for one that I knew of. “I am Taryn St. Giles. I’m not sure to what you are referring to however.” I leaned forward, trying to get a peek at the sheet she held.
She folded the papers into her mattress-like bosom. “I do not know how someone like you was selected by someone like our Dr. Thaddeus, but you do appear to be her.” With a stiff outstretched arm she held out a sheaf of papers. I had to lean forward to grab them which of course had been her intention.
She pulled them back causing me to land on her desk. The flinch she gave when I put my hand down to steady myself was worth it though.
“This is odd—you said he filed the papers yesterday?” Her upper lip rose in a sneer, she’d caught me on something.
“Yes, we just—”
“Aha! This is not you,” she said while waving my precious papers around. “Dr. Thaddeus filed these papers four days ago. The stamp is right here.” An inch-wide finger stabbed into my papers.
“How could he have filed them four days ago?” With an agile grace I didn’t know I had in me, I snatched the papers out of her hand, immediately returning any that weren’t mine to her desk. I started backing toward the guards as her face took on an apple-like hue. “It’s not my fault you people messed up the dates. I have a dig to do.”
Without waiting for her to recover and decide to charge me, I walked briskly out of the museum. Running sounded better but a moving target might stir even the laziest of guards. The guards paid me no heed as I jogged down the stairs and turned at the nearest corner. There was no hue and cry behind me, so either my snatching the papers had led the harridan into a full fit and she hadn’t recovered yet, or she really wasn’t that concerned about these documents not belonging to me. She probably didn’t care at all as long as I was out of her museum.
Once I was sure no one was chasing me down—not good to start a new job with museum guards on my tail—I started walking toward the ruins. A quick glance through the paperwork showed everything in order. Except the date, the bullish woman was correct about that, the date said clearly Malish 4th, which was four days ago. But, to be fair the writing was atrocious and it could have been a seven instead of a four.
With a shrug, I shoved the papers into my satchel with my tools. I didn’t care about dates, I cared about digging again. Even an odd, trash-strewn dig site no longer deterred me.
The fence that had been around the ruins just days ago was gone with little to even show it had been there. I studied the ground as I walked past looking for any signs that such a heavy construct had been there. That was yet another issue, why build something that solid if it had only been intended to stand for a few days?
Which pointed more and more toward a discovery. Either they found what they had been looking for, or the discovery of a certain missing dead giant caused them to abort their plans. Either way, standing in the entrance to the dig sites with a frown on my face certainly was not going to get me digging.
Even though my new dig site was not anywhere close to where I’d dug before, I didn’t need a map to find it. I had every single known dig site embedded in my memory. Even a few unofficial ones. Digging was my soul. It was the only time I felt like I was in the right place in my life.
Thaddeus’s dig site was the furthest back on the official grid, it hovered right at the edge of wild jungle. It had been marked, examined, and discounted a few years back. Obviously Thaddeus thought there was something others had missed.
The chatter of other diggers going to their sites was a welcome sound. I looked around for Harlan, but his dig was at the opposite end so I was not surprised when I didn’t see him. I did briefly see Marcos and toyed with the idea of going over. But to be honest I just was not sure how I felt about him. He was so handsome he made my teeth ache, and I had to admit, fooling around with him had been a joy. It was just that overactive running-in-fear thing he had going. Max the jinn was probably the most cowardly being I’d ever met, but he was left in the dust with Marcos around.
With a sigh, I decided not to deal with my handsome coward just yet. Besides, I didn’t want to be late.
The path leading to Thaddeus’s dig was thin and half-covered with vines and wandering tree roots. The sounds from the compound center faded
as I got further into the ruins, until I mostly just heard normal jungle sounds. The further you got from the more popular dig sites, the larger the Gapen trees got. They were huge at this point and the jungle sounds seemed to have grown right along with them.
Usually, being alone with the jungle animal life didn’t frighten me, but my recent trip here had given me new fear to being alone.
A crack of a branch almost sent me airborne. It was off to my left, and I froze waiting for anything further. An animal would keep making noise, either continuing with whatever he was doing, or running away in fear.
Nothing. No sound. Should I keep going? Go back?
Finally I shook my head at my own fears. I was getting as bad as Marcos.
I continued down the trail, not even looking toward the mysterious sound. Branches could break of their own accord, after all. Just because I heard something didn’t mean—
The fletching from a black arrow flew by my face so close I swear I could count the feathers. With a solid and terrified scream, I burst into a run.
I thought I heard at least one more thud of another arrow, but I sure as hell was not going to stop and check.
Everywhere I placed my foot seemed to have already been taken up by some killer vine. The jungle this far into the ruins was filled with old growth, but the vines were being particularly vicious today.
I went down when I misjudged a clump of roots and vines on my left. The only sound I heard was my pounding heart. My crashing through the trail would have shut up any wildlife out here. But I couldn’t hear anything else. Wouldn’t anyone chasing me have to at least make a little noise while running? I was not the most graceful runner but I certainly was not the worst.
My sides heaved as I stayed on all fours, my hands scrunching tightly in case I had to take off again.
The fact was, I was quite out of shape, and my recent adventures hadn’t really improved my condition. I stayed down, panting to get my breath under control, and hoped that whoever had shot at me had gone away.
Now there was a thought. How did I know they were shooting at me? Could have been an accident, someone out in a restricted dig area, just hunting. They most likely took off when they realized how close they came to hitting me. By accident.
It sounded so lame even to my own mind I could see right through it. Why would someone shoot at me, then stop?
Answer, they wouldn’t have stopped.
Pushing myself up, I ran as fast as I could to Thaddeus’s dig. Not that Thaddeus was a big man, but most outer digs had at least one security guard.
Again the pounding of my heart drowned out any pursuit, but I didn’t see anyone behind me when I slid into the small dig clearing. I did a full spin again to make sure, but nope, not a single person behind me. The next thing I noticed was that the dig site was clean. Really clean.
I’d seen this place on the maps and knew it by reputation. It had been covered in at least twenty-five years of dig refuse and abandoned as a real dig site. But now it was clean.
“I say, you do like to make an entrance, don’t you?”
I spun a third time stopping mid-way when I saw the dwarven academic. “Yes, I…how is this clean?” Supposedly he just received this commission, so how could he have cleaned it that quickly?
“You ran in here at full speed to exclaim upon my cleaning abilities?” He laughed and leaned on the pole he held.
“No, I mean, I am surprised at how neat it is, this was a dump.” I bit my lip as soon as the words came out. Nice thing to say to your new patron on your first day. “That was not what I meant to say.”
His round face grew even more cheerful. “Oh yes it is. And it was. But fear not. There is a method to my madness.” He motioned to two camp chairs pulled up alongside a camp table and two mugs of steaming herb tea. “Now, why don’t you tell me why you were running?”
I took a long sip of the tea, forcing my heartbeat to get back into a more normal range. “Someone shot at me, at least once. Black fletching on the arrow.” Okay so I still was not making much sense once I thought about the arrows again. Maybe I should just focus on how Thaddeus got the site so clean so fast.
“Someone…shot at you?” His round little face had gone completely immobile. Odd, I hadn’t known him that long, but that seemed like a completely unnatural way for it to be. “Are you certain? Where?” He rolled to his feet and peered off into the jungle as if the shooter would walk up and introduce himself. Or herself. I shouldn’t be sexist. Homicidal maniacs can be either gender.
“I don’t think they followed me, or if they did they stopped shooting a while back.” That was a pleasant thought, maybe they’d just run out of arrows. “The only one I saw was back at the bend from the main track. It crossed right in front of my face.”
He scowled at the jungle a few more moments, then resumed his seat. “I assume you’ve not done anything recently to warrant being shot at?” His mouth was still pulled down in a scowl, and I had to say having it directed at me was not pleasant.
“No, I haven’t done—”
“I’m kidding.” He waved one wide hand at me while he started laughing. “I know you wouldn’t do anything to warrant being shot at. I do my research on people I work with.”
I didn’t want to correct him, but he really should know I was up for murder of my landlady. “But you should know about the upcoming court case.”
He actually burbled into his tea as a laugh caught him unexpectedly. “Oh, you think I wouldn’t notice something like that? Obviously, you have never been privy to working for a dwarf of the Walking Mountain Tribe. We leave no stone unburied.” Finishing his tea he launched into a full-scale attack of a tin of biscuits. “I am aware of the situation with Nirtha. However did you stand living in that place with her all those years?” He shook his head and shrugged. “Never you mind, I know you didn’t do it. Therefore it has no relevance to my contract with you.” He offered me a biscuit, then polished the rest off. “I’m aware of your bounty hunting positions as well. Also, not relevant to this dig. Therefore, you have done nothing to warrant being shot at.”
I nibbled my biscuit, then washed it down with some tea. “I see.” I was happy he believed me. I did wonder how long he’d been looking into hiring me before he talked to me though.
“Did Covey tell you these things?”
“Some, some. But I am good at finding things out. I needed the best for this dig and you quite simply are the best.”
Now that just raised a whole slew of fears in my head. Me? The best? I was good, but clearly not the best or I wouldn’t have had so much time off between jobs.
“Okay…I don’t know what to say. Thanks?”
His laughter bounced off the jungle surrounding us. “I see that I have more confidence in your skills that you have. Never fear, you will come to see your gifts like I have. And before you start looking at me with the ‘is he a wizard look’ I keep seeing cross your face, no I am not.” He patted some documents on the table between us. “I am, however, a skilled academic. I can read between what was written on all of your previous digs. I don’t wish to be rude, but your previous patrons were all a bit daft. They misread their finds and they misread you.” He sat back in his chair as if he had just solved the dilemma of what happened to the elves.
This day was beginning far too weird. I just wanted to get back to digging and let my odd patron take care of the rest.
“On that note, do you think we should find out who was there?” I vaguely pointed over my shoulder into the jungle. I really didn’t want to go back out there, but at the same time I didn’t want someone sneaking up on me.
“Never fear, the Museum has instituted their own security now. There were questions of interlopers during the shutdown.” He rose and motioned to a pit.
I was not about to tell him that I was probably one of the interlopers and I knew of a few others. So I finished my tea and followed.
I thought this would be a starting dig, surface items only. Clearly I’d
been misinformed as to how much work had taken place here previously.
Far more than a simple hole in the ground, the pit was a carefully excavated stairwell leading down to a lower level of a long-lost building. Actually closer inspection revealed it was a stairwell leading to a wall. This was obviously the upper level, the rest of the building being destroyed or worn down by centuries of neglect before being swallowed and buried by the jungle. The first five feet down were clear, and I could take the time to admire the craftsmanship of the stairs.
Even what were probably outdoor stairs leading to the top of a castle wall were decorated. Carving into each step showed the minute detail the elves, or whoever had been living here, put into their work. Most likely the steps were painted in their day as well. Bending down, I thought I could see tiny flecks of color mixed in with the dirt.
“Ah, see? First day on the job and you have made a find.” Thaddeus had gone further down but turned back when I stopped at the steps.
“Sorry. I didn’t find anything. I was just admiring the design, and they look as if they were painted as well.” This was the problem I always had with patrons; they never cared about the little bits, the parts that made up a society. Unless the item could be sold for coin or status, they had no interest. He would wave me off and get me down to finding artifacts.
“That is amazing,” he said as he dropped down to one knee and began sifting through the dirt himself. Slivers of green flickered in the light. “See? You have already made an impact, I went up and down these stairs all day yesterday, and I never noticed this.” He rose to his feet and slapped me low on the back. It was about as high as he could comfortably reach.
Perhaps having an academic as a patron would be a good thing. With the lightest heart I’d had in weeks, I adjusted the glow in my helmet and followed my new patron down the stairs.
Chapter 24
The light from the glows on our helmets created odd and disturbing shadows against the dirt walls that surrounded us. But I felt safer down here than I did up top. I kept telling myself that Thaddeus was right about the museum hiring guards and that they must have captured the person who’d shot at me by now.
The Glass Gargoyle (The Lost Ancients Book 1) Page 18
