“Don’t move it about too much, I heard that tendons were involved. Chanté spent a lot of effort fixing you up, using a number of enchantments. That’s probably why he fell asleep.”
Quillan went pale. “Tendons?” He slowly set his arm back down. “T–They must have used an anesthetic ward. I don’t feel any pain.”
She scrunched her nose. “Just as well with all those lacerations from the glass shards.”
“Oh. Right.” He looked up. “There was an explosion. I had worried about all the accelerant splashing about, at the fumes, and what would happen when the accelerant containers over-heated. When that man started everything on fire, I could only think of getting out.” He shook his head.
“Man?” Elizabeth sat closer. “What man?”
“I have no idea. I was looking over the control device, it was in pristine condition, when I heard a sword being drawn behind me. We fought. He was very good with the sword, dangerously good, but I managed to catch his leg when I ripped the air circulator off the floor and tossed it at him with a spell. Unfortunately, that’s also what started the accelerant splashing everywhere. He must have known he couldn’t beat me with the injured leg, so he started the fire and fled.”
The door creaked and Fillion poked his head in. “I’m going to head back to—” His gaze flicked to Quillan and his eyes widened. “Hey! You’re awake!”
“Shh!” Quillan looked down. “Chanté’s asleep.”
“I don’t think he’d mind being roused if it was because you finally woke up.” Fillion walked in.
Guildmaster Millinith followed him through the door. “Indeed. While all of us were worried,” she glanced at Chanté, “no one was more worried than him.”
“I’ll have to make it up to you all,” Quillan said.
“Nonsense.” Elizabeth shook her head. “As I said, we’re just glad you’re alright.”
“You might want to consider doing something special for Chanté, though.” The Guildmaster tilted her head a touch. “According to the doctor, he hovered over you the whole time like a mother hen.”
Quillan looked at the sleeping boy. “I’ll have to think on what I can do.”
“Has Nantli ever spoken with you?” Guildmaster Millinith asked.
“She has.” Quillan nodded. “We speak quite often.”
“Do you, now?” The Guildmaster lifted a corner of her lips. “Well, if you lack for ideas, let me just say that bond-mates know a great deal about each other.”
“Sometimes too much.” Fillion wore a bit of a frown.
“I–I see.”
“You’re markedly pale,” Guildmaster Millinith said, “and you look tired, too, so I’ll give everyone the good news but also tell them that visiting tonight is off the table. A good night’s rest is what you need. Expect a few visitors on the morrow, however.”
“True enough,” Fillion said. “You seem well enough, so I’m going to head back to the special investigator’s offices to see how they’re doing with Tobin’s deposition, but,” he turned to Elizabeth, “did you need Coatl to give you a lift anywhere before I go? Or were you going to stay here?”
She glanced at Chanté and then Quillan. “I think he’s in good hands.”
Quillan’s cheeks pinked.
She grabbed the crutch, stood, and made for the door. “Why don’t we both find out what Tobin had to say?”
+ + + + +
When Tobin’s interview was over, Fillion watched a uniformed woman lead him away. The deposition, the last quarter hour of which he and Elizabeth had arrived in time for, had provided some interesting bits of information, some of which would be very useful when questioning Koen.
Surprisingly, the Eye of Justice left the corner where he had stood the entire time and followed them out.
Fillion drew his brows together. Why was the official leaving?
Master Gella closed the ’writer she’d been scribbling in and stood. “Let’s get back to the main room to wait on the teams to get ready.”
He looked at her. “What teams? And aren’t we going to question Koen?”
She shook her head and made for the door. “No.”
Fillion stood and scowled. “Why aren’t we going to interrogate him?”
“I wonder that, too.” Elizabeth closed her notebook. She’d been writing in it the entire time.
“The man behind all those plans,” Master Gella said, “is not an idiot. He won’t give anything away, and if we try too hard, the lines of questioning might give him or his lawyer a clue as to what I intend. Come.” She headed down the hallway.
Elizabeth grabbed her crutch and they followed.
“But with Coatl listening in,” Fillion said, “we can gain information from indirect questions.”
“We have plenty of time to go that route, if needed,” Master Gella said. “For now, Tobin provided a few avenues that we need to investigate as soon as possible. Two of them tonight.”
Once at the room, Fillion stewed in a chair. Master Gella was wasting a great opportunity here. Coatl was really good at listening in to people.
What is wrong?
Master Gella might not have us talk with that Koen fellow. She feels he might figure out what she intends. Hells, I didn’t even know she had a plan, how would Koen? And when did she come up with one, anyway?
Master Gella feels pretty confident. Perhaps she devised one while speaking with Tobin?
Fillion scowled and glanced at her. Maybe. If so, I wish she’d let me in on it.
The older of the women he’d seen his first time here walked in the door. She glanced around at the faces in the room, ending on the master investigator. “The acquisition team is on the way, and the pickup team awaits you.”
Fillion had no idea what teams the woman spoke of, but what he did know was that ‘Hawk’ might be a good code name for her, at least based on appearance.
Master Gella nodded. “Good. Fillion, please reiterate to Fox that when the team moves on the manor, her only objective once you drop her off is to get to that safe Tobin mentioned. All manner of evidence is in it. Cadoc will likely not be the only one of his staff who knows how to destroy its contents.”
He blinked. “Wait, I’m going to drop her off?”
“You and Coatl will provide her access to the balcony Tobin mentioned.”
He closed his open mouth. “When did you plan an attack on the manor?”
She chuckled and patted her jacket—the ’writer inside?—and said, “During the deposition. It’s a standard distract and grab, so not much planning was needed. The team will move in and make a commotion on the ground while you get Fox to the third-floor office. She opens the safe, grabs its contents, and you bring her back here. Simple.”
He sat back in the chair as several things became clear. “That’s why you asked so many questions about Koen’s office.” He grunted.
Hawk chuckled. “So maybe he isn’t as slow as I thought.”
Master Gella smiled. “Of course not.” She stood and turned to him. “I’m going with the other team on our own errand. Fox waits for you on the roof. I trust you’ll be more careful this visit to the manor?” She glanced at the new bandages on his arm before heading off with Hawk.
He scoffed. More careful. She need not worry, Gregor had already spoken to him about that. Extensively.
He pressed his lips together and stood.
“Fillion,” Elizabeth said. “Could you drop me off somewhere before you head off on another adventure?”
He narrowed his eyes. “The hospital?”
She stood and grabbed her crutch and satchel. “Yes, actually, but not”—she drew her brows together—“not to see Quillan. My apartment is two streets from there.” She smiled, though it seemed a bit forced. “I’ve been away too long and today has been a little draining.”
“Sure.”
Once on the roof, Fox eyed Elizabeth as they made their way to Coatl. “Is she going with—?”
Elizabeth chuckled. “No. Most definitely not. Fillion an
d Coatl are going to drop me off near my home before you two storm the castle.”
Fox scowled. “My team is waiting.”
“They can spare five minutes, I’m sure.” Elizabeth tied her crutch to the saddle and, hiking the carryall higher up on her shoulder, turned to him. “If you would, Fillion?”
He nodded and levitated her to the rear spot on the saddle.
Fox harrumphed and took the middle spot.
Once they were all ready, he opened a portal to the hospital and Coatl took them through.
On the ground, he didn’t bother to dismount, merely levitated her to the sidewalk. Fox had sounded like they were pressed for time, after all.
Elizabeth retrieved her crutch and glanced at the hospital. She looked a little sad.
“You care for Quillan.”
She looked up at him. “Of course I do. I am very fond of the big oaf. Fond. That is all. Besides, now that the investigation is making progress, it’s time I got back to it. This is all going to make for a very good article.”
Coatl craned his neck to look at her. He let out a questioning chirp.
She stared at him, expression unreadable. “A gentleman never contradicts a lady, Coatl.”
I would not think of it, Master Elizabeth.
Smiling, she put her free hand on his shoulder. “Thank you for the lift, good sir.”
She looked up at Fillion, and after a little bow of her head, she headed down the street, away from the hospital.
“She’s a terrible liar.”
Fillion turned and frowned over his shoulder at Fox.
“What? I’m not a gentleman, by any definition. And we need to go. They’re waiting.”
He sighed at her. “Fine.” He turned forward. Let’s go, big guy.
Coatl leapt into the air.
Soon enough, they hovered over the same manse from which they’d rescued Preeti and her aunt mere hours ago. They were over a different part of the complex at the moment, however, and in addition to the large acoustic ward, a gloom spell helped veil them from sight against the night sky where they once again hovered three hundred or so feet up.
He scowled. I hate this place.
A rumbling draconic chuckle vibrated through the saddle.
Movement behind made him turn. Fox was using a ’writer.
She glanced at him then looked back at the thin device, finishing what she’d been writing. “As soon as they start their attack, levitate me down to the balcony.”
Tobin said the balcony doors opened on a short corridor which ended at another hallway, and the office was in there, around the corner, first door to the right.
He lifted binocs to his eyes and looked at the balcony below. “I’ll go first, then bring you down.”
“Wait, wait, wait. What? No! I’m going in solo.”
He turned to her. “If you think I’m letting you go in there alone . . .” The simmering anger in her gaze made him pause.
“You think I can’t do it alone?”
“It’s not that! The guards here mean business, as you’ll recall.” He lifted his bandaged arm.
“Guards everywhere mean business,” she hissed, “and I’ve never failed a mission!”
“Even so—”
A fiery explosion on the far side of the grounds followed by yells and commotion below drew their gazes. Two guards ran toward the west gate, no doubt keeping an eye out for a rear attack, while all the others ran toward the east end of the grounds.
She made an irritated sound. “We don’t have time to argue, but I swear, if you get in my way . . .”
“I know, I know, you’ll break my good arm.” Lifting the binocs, he stared at the glass-panel doors. Is there anyone in the hallway by the balcony?
It is empty, but there is a man who walks back and forth along that other hallway. There were two of them when we got here, but one hurried off soon after the fighting started. From where I sense the man, he is at the extreme right end of their route at the moment.
Great. “There were two patrolling the cross-hallway. The commotion drew one away but one remains. He’s on the far right end right now.”
“How do you—oh, your dragon.”
He put up a new acoustic ward to block the sound of pounding wings from the two guards who’d taken positions by the gate, then removed the one below. Take us down to the level of the balcony, but to the right of it.
Coatl beat his wings once more, then banked down.
Gregor’s lengthy admonishment fresh in mind, and not wanting to repeat his last visit to this damn place, Fillion placed a wide barrier just below them and another in an arc out from the building. No arrows would get through from below!
“Get ready.” He unstrapped and then levitated himself to the balcony, beside the right door.
Turning back, he brought Fox over.
When he set her down, she removed a sketch of the floor layout from her pocket and looked it over.
He stomped his foot on the stone floor. It seemed quite solid. This looks sturdy. You might be able to set your back paws on the handrail and lean your forepaws on the building so you don’t have to hover the whole time.
Or, I could wait on the roof just above.
Fillion stifled his chuckle. Or you could wait on the roof.
Coatl beat his wings harder and rose out of sight. Moments later, his head poked over. Forepaws gripping the edge, he let out a quiet chirp at them.
Smiling, Fillion turned and saw Fox peering in the glass panels.
“That Koen fellow appears to be quite materialistic. The hallway is full of stuff. That is good for us.”
He looked in and understood what she meant. Large vases, cabinets, divans and more—there were plenty of places to hide, if needed. And, too, the light fixtures didn’t illuminate the place as well as it would have been lit up during the day by sunlight. Hopefully, the other hallway was the same.
He wasn’t certain how difficult the lock on the office door would be, or whether there was one at all. Items to hide behind could be beneficial. “Is the office locked? I never heard mention.”
She nodded. “It is. Tobin talked about it before you arrived. I brought appropriate tools.” Her hand patted the large pack—twin to his—slung over her shoulder.
“I see.” The pack he’d been given to bring had something in it, though he knew not what. Was it more tools she’d need?
A small pulse of magic came from her. “No enchantments on the doors.” She pulled out a slim dagger, slid it between the door and the jamb, and jiggled it a bit. After a few moments, she growled, pulled it out, and used the butt end to gently crack one of the glass panels.
She quickly removed a few large pieces of glass and reached in, opening the door. “We don’t have time for fussy mechanisms. Once we get in, find out where that patrolman is from Coatl.”
She stepped in and Fillion quickly followed.
Taking a position on the left side of the hallway, she pressed her back to the wall beside a cabinet, and looked at him.
He crouched next to a divan on the right. Where is the man?
Approaching the hallway intersection. Perhaps five seconds?
That was close! Fillion looked over. He held up his right hand and clenched it into a fist.
She nodded.
He silently counted off the remaining seconds.
He is there.
Without moving his head, he glanced to the right, held his breath, and waited. Any movement of shadow or otherwise could catch the man’s attention if he glanced this way.
He has passed.
Fillion glanced at Fox, opened his fist, and lowered his hand.
Holding onto the pack slung over her shoulder, she practically ran for the hallway.
Impressed that she made nary a sound, he hurried after, trying to be as quiet.
At the end of the corridor, she crouched low against the left wall. She stuck a tactical mirror into the hallway—when had she removed that?—took a quick glimpse with it to the le
ft, then stood and silently headed the other direction while slipping the mirror back into her pack.
Fillion followed, but a quick glance behind made him stop. Pissing blades! He’d forgotten that the hallway on that side of the corridor was so much shorter! Based on the man’s walking pace, they had perhaps thirty seconds or so before he reached the end of the hallway and began a return trip this way.
Fillion turned and had another moment of panic when he couldn’t see Fox. Then he spied the end her backside poking out beyond a tall cabinet. He hurried past the glass-fronted case filled with shelves of porcelain elephants of various size.
Fox was kneeling in front of the door, already working. Her pack was open on the floor and a few items sat around it. She’d placed some sort of device on the door, over the keyhole. Jiggling a small knob on the device, she had her eyes shut, ear held close, and appeared to be listening very intently.
Perhaps twenty seconds before he turns around and heads back your way.
He leaned over and hissed, “Twenty seconds.”
She made an annoyed sound and squeezed her eyes even more tightly closed, still listening for something.
There was a faint click. She continued to fiddle.
Fifteen seconds.
Fillion pressed his lips together. Hurry up, Fox!
Another click. She fiddled a little more hurriedly.
Ten seconds.
Pissing blades! While he couldn’t make her go any faster . . .
He moved against the wall so the cabinet would block the patrolman’s view of him and began quietly stuffing the items from the floor back into her pack.
Six seconds.
Shit! He lifted the pack and looked at Fox.
Five.
Another faint click.
Four.
Fox grabbed the device on the door.
Three.
She twisted, and it came free.
Two.
She opened the door and hurried in.
One.
Fillion rolled inside, and stood, staring at the doorway.
Be wary. He is now on the return patrol route.
Still holding onto the turned knob, Fox slowly shut the door and just as slowly returned the doorknob to its closed position. She then released it, turned to him, and let out a breath.
The room was dark with only the faint light of distant street lamps coming through the large windows on the far wall behind him, but Fillion could see how large her eyes were from excitement. He threw his arms around her and, laughing quietly, lifted her up and spun around.
Of Gods, Trees, and a Sapling: Dragonlinked Chronicles Volume 4 Page 100
