Shadow Chaser (32 page)

“What’s wrong with you?” I hissed down at him.

“Danger!” said the jester, pointing in the direction from which we had just come.

There was a lone guard walking along the path that ran round the house. I don’t know what he was looking for, but it certainly wasn’t adventure. The lad was staring down at his feet, so he hadn’t even seen the goblin standing there right in front of him.

Kli-Kli started dashing from side to side, not knowing where to hide, and I gritted my teeth in annoyance.

“Where can she be?” the guard exclaimed. I couldn’t make out his face, but his voice was young.

Didn’t I tell everybody I’d have problems if the goblin was with me?

“Hey! You there! What are you doing here?” the guard said, lowering his hand onto the hilt of his sword.

“Come here,” Kli-Kli said, gesturing to the guard conspiratorially.

Sagot! What is that idiot doing?

The man started moving toward the goblin, without taking his hand off his sword or his eyes off the intruder. He was confused, because his enemy was so short and didn’t attempt to run away or draw a weapon when he was caught red-handed.

“Come on, come on. I don’t bite.”

“Bah, you’re that duke’s jester!” the guard said, stopping right underneath me.

“Of course I’m a jester! Who were you planning on meeting here? A h’san’kor?”

I tugged on the rope, giving it the mental order to lower me down.

“What are you doing here, you little rogue?”

There was no more than a yard left to the nitwit’s head.

The goblin kept one eye on my miraculous balancing act.

“Want a gold piece?” A disk of yellow metal glittered between the fool’s fingers.

Kli-Kli’s calculations were absolutely correct. There are some specimens of humankind who only have to be shown a coin and they completely lose their head.

“Yes!”

I wasn’t surprised in the least to see him staring hard, desperately trying to follow the movements of the coin.

I hit him with both feet, aiming at the back of his head. He was wearing a light helmet, so the blow wasn’t all that powerful, but it was quite enough for him. He slumped to his knees, clutching at his head. I opened my fingers and fell onto him, pressing him down with all my weight.

“Finish him!” Kli-Kli squealed, jumping up and down nervously. “Finish him!”

“What a … bloodthirsty … goblin,” I spat out, shaking my bruised fist.

The lad was surprisingly strong. I had to punch him twice on the back of his head, which was as hard as oak, and then jam my elbow into his temple before he condescended to quiet down.

I swung round toward Kli-Kli.

“What kind of trick was that you pulled?”

“I had to keep him busy while you were descending on him like the demon of vengeance.”

“I mean, why didn’t you whistle?”

“I can’t whistle. I tried to tell you, but you wouldn’t listen!” the goblin explained lamely.

There was a clank behind me. I drew my knife and swung round sharply, but it was only Ell. He was just wiping his dagger on the guard’s clothes.

The dead guard’s clothes. No one lives after he’s had the best part of a yard of steel run through his heart.

“He won’t shout now.” The elf’s yellow eyes glinted disapprovingly. “You always need to finish the job, Harold.”

“Get it over with quickly, thief. There’s no time,” Alistan Markauz put in from out of the darkness. “Kli-Kli, I’ll have a word with you later. Come with us. Ell, take the body’s arms.”

“Stop!” I told them. “The goblin’s bound to get you into trouble. He’s just one big headache.”

“I won’t get them into trouble!” Kli-Kli was offended. “If not for me, this dead man here would have spotted you for sure.”

“Listen, fool, do you see those bushes over there? They’re exactly opposite the window of the count’s bedroom. You hide in there until I call you. I’ll throw you the Key, and then you clear out just as fast as you can. Ell, you help him get over the wall.”

“All right.”

I jumped up, grabbed hold of the end of the rope, and the whole business started all over again. When I threw my leg over the railings and found myself on the balcony, there was no one below me any longer—no elf, no count, no Kli-Kli, no dead body. The spider web nestled back snugly into its usual place on my belt.

It was a small balcony that had been built for decoration, hardly even big enough for two people. The door, with glass panes set in a fancy wooden grille, looked like a rather frail, defenseless barrier for lads of my kind. But first impressions are deceptive—always expect some kind of dirty trick from such naked defenselessness. Fortunately I didn’t even have to guess, or waste precious vials of spells, in order to expose any magic. Miralissa had said there were defensive spells on all the windows on the second floor.

I didn’t know how they worked, but anyone who tried to climb into the house at night was in for a hot reception. The elfess had offered to create a runic charm so I could break through the defense, but I had politely refused. I’d been feeling very negative about runic magic just recently—ever since I read out an old scroll that I found lying about and drove all the demons into the darkness. (Well, almost all, Vukhdjaaz was an exception.)

And apart from that, I didn’t want to experience the clash of shamanism with human magic at close quarters. And I couldn’t count on Kli-Kli’s medallion, either—it only neutralized shamanism, not the magic of men and light elves. I would have to dip into my own reserves in order to get into the house.

I opened the small green bag on my belt and took out a vial containing a powder as black as the night around me. The cork came out with a pop and I kept hold of it in my teeth.

I scattered a generous sprinkling of the powder straight onto the door, put the cork back in the vial, and put the precious little item back in my bag. In the meantime nothing had happened to the balcony door, and I was already beginning to think that this time the elfess was wrong. But no, blotches appeared where the black powder had landed. They spread out, merged together, and then disappeared with a flash.

That’s done.

As I expected, the door was locked. For some reason people are never desperately eager to see me in their homes. What did I ever do to them?

I opened the lock in a few seconds. Actually, the thing on that door had no right to call itself by the proud name of “lock.” I pushed the door slightly open, parted the light, airy curtains with my hands, and slipped inside Count Balistan Pargaid’s house.

It’s pitch-dark in here. Where am I? I hope it’s not some old maid’s bedroom, or there’ll be shouting and screaming.

The floor in the room was covered with a carpet, so I didn’t make much noise. There was a thin strip of light under the door leading into the corridor. My eyes had already got used to the darkness now, and I could see pretty well.

I was in a large room with shelves lining the walls.

A library.

If I’d been there at a different time on different business, I would definitely have checked out a couple of the bookcases. The count was keen on antiquity, so I wouldn’t be surprised if there were books here from the early Dream Age, or even the Era of Achievements. On my way across the unlighted room I had to walk round a desk that stood out as a black patch against the dark gray background.

The heavy double doors of the library opened easily and I went out into the corridor.

It was empty.

That’s right, you respectable people, at this time of night the best thing to be doing is sleeping.

Unfortunately for me, some diligent swine had lit the oil lamps, and the little tongues of flame were trembling under their glass covers.

Now came the most difficult part, walking the full length of the corridor in this wing and slipping through a room or two to end up in the corridor beside the balcony overlooking the reception hall, then walking down the corridor with the portraits to reach Balistan Pargaid’s bedroom. Then I had to do what I’d come for, and go back the same way.

I tried to cover the dangerous stretch as quickly as possible. The thick pile of the carpet deadened my footsteps, and I didn’t have to worry about anyone hearing me. The doors on my right and my left were closed, and there wasn’t a sound from any of the rooms. I walked past one intersection where two corridors crossed. As far as I recalled, one of them led to the servants’ wing and the basement.

Aha, here’s the door I need.

I pressed down on the bronze handle, but it didn’t give. I had to take out my lock picks and fiddle with the lock, feeling for the spring. To say I felt uncomfortable would be putting it very mildly. Fiddling with a lock when there are lanterns burning on every side and any lunatic can see you from the far end of the corridor is nervous kind of work.

“Ah! Don’t talk n-nonsense, you stup-pid f-fool! I think what I s-said, was … hic! Yes…” I heard someone say behind the door opposite me.

“You’re drunk, O’Lack, where are you off to?”

“F-for a leak, you stup-pid f-fool! Or do you prefer … hic! P-pref … pah! Do you want me to d-do it right here?”

The lock clicked and I tumbled into the room and closed the door behind me, before the drunk could open his. I listened to what was going on the corridor. A man came out of the other room and walked away unsteadily. I stopped hearing his steps almost immediately—the carpet deadened every sound.

I was in one of the numerous guest rooms in this wing. And, to my roguish thief’s delight, it was empty. All I had to do was go over to the other door and open it to find myself on the balcony, so that’s what I did.

One glance was enough to make me jump back quickly into the shelter of the darkness. As the plan had shown, the balcony overlooked the inner courtyard of the count’s mansion.

For those who haven’t realized yet, the count’s mansion was built in the form of a square, with a little inner courtyard that was entered through a door on the first floor. There was a fountain murmuring gently in the yard, and a few feeble apple trees, with branches that barely reached as high as the second floor. A man was sitting under one of the trees, smoking a paper pipe stuffed with tobacco. The flickering of the little light was the only reason I spotted him.

Until that moment my plan had been very simple. Climb down the spider web into the courtyard, run to the wall of the opposite wing, and climb up the rope onto a balcony—and I would be close to the Key.

But thanks to this damned guard, all my efforts had been a total waste of time. He was looking straight in my direction, and if I climbed down the rope, he was bound to see me, even on a dark night like this. And running back through the corridors was pointless and dangerous; I could be spotted at any moment.

There was only one thing I could do—wait.

Should I put a crossbow bolt into the guard? In principle, it was possible, but in that kind of darkness I wasn’t sure that I could hit him in the neck. If I missed, then he’d probably bellow like a hog under the butcher’s knife and wake the entire house.

I sat down on the floor and started watching through the light, airy curtains. The little light flared up as he inhaled—he poisoned the air for what seemed like an eternity.

Eventually the guard stood up, stamped the remains of his paper pipe into the ground, slung his hefty crossbow over his shoulder, and tramped over to the door. I gave a sigh of relief, but I was getting ahead of myself. The guard swung round sharply and set off along the wall, then swung round again.…

He’s patrolling, the lousy dog! I really don’t like overdiligent guards—they’re always a big headache. And this lad certainly is.

There was no point in grinding my teeth—you only get one set. I sat back down on the floor and started counting the guard’s steps. Six … ten … fifteen … twenty-two …

I didn’t have much time, in fact none at all. I had to take the risk. I waited until the man turned his back to me and shot out onto the balcony.

Two …

The spider web took a grip and I flung myself over the railings and jumped, clinging onto the rope with both hands.

Eight …

It must have been the quickest descent of my life. If I hadn’t been wearing gloves, I’d have ripped all the skin off my hands, and the muscle along with it. But not even the gloves could protect me against the fire scorching my palms.

Ten …

I tugged on the spider web and it came unstuck from the balcony, fell, and rolled up into a coil.

Thirteen …

I leaped forward toward the really thick darkness under a feeble, stunted apple tree.

Fifteen …

The guard swung round and came walking toward me. Come on now, darling, you won’t even notice me until you trip over me. When the guard turned away again, I started moving toward him, making short little runs from one shadow to another.

Eventually I found myself behind the guard, who strode along like a mechanical toy, and I took my brass knuckles out of my pocket and smacked them against the back of his head.

The lad gave a grunt of surprise and started falling over backwards. I grabbed hold of him and sat him down on the grass, with his back leaning against the trunk of a tree. Just to be on the safe side, I unloaded his crossbow and threw the bolt into the fountain, then after thinking for a moment, I threw his bag with the other nine bolts in there, too.