Shadow of the Father (15 page)

Sinch tried to imagine being woken up in the night, smoke in his nostrils, fire licking at his home. “What… what happened after that?”

“We fought them, lost more than a few good mice, but saved our homes.” His eyes glittered. “The redtails may have forgotten him, but we have not.”

“Is he… what is he doing now?” Sinch felt the weight of the head pressing down on his neck and shoulders.

Balinni’s expression remained impassive. “The darkness he wished on others took him.”

There didn’t seem to be anything Sinch could say to that.

 
Balinni called four other mice to help them: the female who’d brought “Kishin,” whose name was Valix, the hulking mouse named Bog who’d accompanied him the previous day; and a pair named Cal and Mal, who’d echoed each other’s words to the point that Sinch lost track of which was which. Valix was put in charge, so she brought the five of them to the edge of the Warren near the lake, where steps led down into a foul-smelling trench. “Keep your paws out of the water,” she told Sinch, unnecessarily, because he was stepping as carefully as possible. “The rest of us may smell like filth, but you should not. And don’t drag the sack.”

He hadn’t been, but now he hefted it higher. They made their way through narrow twists and turns, until they came to a place where Sinch could just see the ears of the three uniformed foxes on the ground above the trench, one bend further along. Valix held up her paw for silence and motioned them into a small hole in the right side of the trench, which fortunately was dry.

The hole smelled of mice, but faintly, and there was another smell tickling Sinch’s nose that he couldn’t quite identify. If Yilon were here, he’d have been able to figure it out. Light glimmered ahead of them and to the left, but as they walked along, a waft of cooler air brushed Sinch’s whiskers, and he looked to his right. He saw nothing but blackness there, and while waiting for his eyes adjust, Valix grabbed his paw and yanked him forward.

He jerked his paw away from her. She glared at him, her eyes glinting with faint light, and motioned for him to put on his disguise.

The passage was relatively dry. Sinch put the sack down, unpacking while Bog, Cal, and Mal kept going toward the faint light of the entrance. He got the harness on, fastened the tail around his midsection, making sure it wasn’t dragging in the water, and then pulled out the cloak Balinni’d given him. Valix watched him with folded arms, tapping her tail against the wall.

“They can’t hear us down here,” Sinch whispered.

At the sound of his words, her eyes widened and she lurched forward, slapping a paw over his muzzle. “It’s not the guards I’m worried about,” she said in words as quiet as breath, so that even though her lips were an inch from his ear, he had to strain to hear them. When he nodded, she stepped back, allowing him to lift the hood of the cloak over the dead fox’s ears. He adjusted it, but before he could, Valix grabbed his paw and dragged him forward.

They emerged into weak sunlight, in the sewage trench. Looking back, Sinch saw they must be a good ways past where the guards had been standing. Valix, relaxed now, looking him over and gave an approving nod. “Come on,” she said, and led him around another bend, to a narrower, straight trench. She hurried him past a hole on the right side to where Cal, or Mal, waited partway down it. “It’s there,” he said, and then scurried up brick handholds to the surface.

“At least you’re not a complete liar,” Valix said, but quietly. “They’ll signal when it’s time.”

“How?” Sinch asked, but she just nodded at the surface without further clarification.

The fox’s head felt heavier and heavier. With the cloak around him, in the enclosed space of the sewer, he kept sensing someone sneaking up on him. The feeling grew stronger despite the complete silence in the trench. He would hear any movement from yards away. But the smell of the sewers overwhelmed his nose, and that made him nervous. In Divalia, he’d learned about scent-masking, using stinkclouds to obscure one’s scent. He’d never descended to the sewers there, though he’d heard they were immense labyrinths crawling under the city, through which you could get anywhere. He’d also heard that the people who used them in Divalia were worse than thieves. Unable to resist the feeling, he turned his head to look back the way they’d come. The trench was empty as far as he could see. When he straightened, he saw Valix’s wry amusement, no anxiety showing, though he could smell it. “Nothing here but us,” she whispered.

He nodded. Despite her assurances, and the evidence of his own eyes, the feeling of being stalked grew again in the back of his head. It was a relief when Valix said, “They’re coming out. Come on.”

She scurried up the brick handholds. It took Sinch longer, balancing the apparatus atop his head, but he forgot the weight when he emerged into the stronger light of an alley and saw Valix at the end of the alley urging him forward.

The rest of the alley was deserted. He gathered the cloak around him, peering out of the space between the bottom of the fox head and the cloak’s clasp. He still didn’t feel convinced that he would pass for a fox.

Stepping out from the alley onto a wide street that paralleled the lake, it took him a moment to get his bearings. Even though there weren’t a lot of foxes walking by, he still wouldn’t have figured out that the bow-backed open cart was Yilon’s without Valix, Cal, and Mal’s figures at its side. After that, it was all a matter of quickness and practice.

He walked slowly up behind the cart, looking for his opportunity. A pair of foxes walked by, after whom the space was clear. A paw out of the cloak, the satchel lifted and pulled under quickly, heavier than Sinch thought it would be, but not unmanageable. He probably would have been able to do it even if Yilon had not been expecting it.

He hesitated only a moment, finding it difficult to be so close to Yilon and yet not say anything. He leaned forward, and the tip of the dead fox’s nose came within a hair of Yilon’s ear. Sinch jumped back, stumbling, almost directly into the path of a slender vixen. She sniffed at him and kept walking.

Bad, very bad, he scolded himself. She noticed, she’ll remember. Without waiting to see if Yilon had reacted, he turned and walked quickly away from the cart, away from the alley where Valix and the others would be waiting.

 
“Gone?” Corwin stared as though Yilon had just told him the castle itself was no longer there. “What do you mean, gone? Why did you have it with you in the first place?”

“I didn’t trust Maxon.” Yilon was having a hard time acting as distraught as he knew he should be. His tail kept starting to wag despite his best efforts.

“Didn’t trust… so you brought…” Corwin’s paw flew to his muzzle, his ears flattening. “And it was mice. Oh, Teeth and Tail, this is bad. Very bad.”

“How do you know it was mice?” Yilon’s fur started to prickle. “Those were just beggars.”

“You don’t know this town yet,” Corwin said. “They never come begging here this early in the morning. If they’re about before noon, it’s with a purpose.” He moaned softly, then stopped when he saw the driver looking back at them. “Back to the castle,” he snapped. “Now.”

While the cart turned, Corwin leaned closer to Yilon. “Let me handle them, when we get back,” he said.

The rest of the short ride passed in silence. Yilon didn’t trust himself to say anything, and Corwin was not inclined to talk. As soon as they pulled up in front of the castle gate, though, he jumped out with a surprising agility and called to one of the guards to run in and summon Lady Dewanne and Velkan.

The other guard looked bemused. “Is it lunchtime already, sir?” Corwin ignored the remark, gesturing to Yilon to follow him as he strode into the grounds.

It took Velkan several minutes to arrive. They convened in the dining hall, where Min and two other foxes brought them cups of a dark wine and then left. When they’d closed the door behind them, Corwin launched into the story of the theft. He’d only gotten halfway through it, even without his usual verbosity, when Maxon burst into the room, his vest askew over his tunic, fur sticking up between the ears.

“What’s going on, my lady? Why is the governor here? Nobody told me there would be a meeting today.”

“This was not planned, Maxon,” Lady Dewanne said. “We are dealing with something of a crisis.”

He looked around the table. “What crisis?” His eyes came to rest on Yilon. “What’s he done now?” His breath came in pants, and he’d no sooner gotten that last sentence out than he broke into a coughing fit.

“Calm yourself, please,” Lady Dewanne said. “We are just hearing about it from Corwin.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Yilon said, bristling.

Maxon’s eyes narrowed. “You lost it, didn’t you?”

Corwin and Lady Dewanne looked at each other. “The fewer who know, the better,” Corwin said.

“Maxon knows many secrets,” Lady Dewanne said. “His advice may be useful.” To the steward, she gestured to a chair. “Please, have a seat.”

Corwin looked dubious, but finished his story, after restarting the beginning for Maxon’s benefit. When he reached the discovery of the theft, Maxon jumped to his feet, glaring at Yilon. “I knew it!” he said, and then added, “your
lordship
.”

“Sit down, Maxon,” Lady Dewanne said. She and Velkan had not so much as gasped when the news was imparted. “There will be ample time to apportion blame. For now, the unfortunate incident cannot be reversed; therefore, it must be remedied. Velkan, Corwin, your thoughts?”

Yilon noticed that Velkan deferred to Corwin, but the older fox shook his head. “I am past the age of making decisions of import.” He settled back into his chair with a heavy sigh. “I no longer feel the pulse of Dewanne, only those near me.”

“You do yourself too little credit,” Velkan said briskly. “I would welcome your counsel, and ask no more of you than that. I will bear the weight of the decision, along with my lord and lady here.”

“He’s no lord now, nor shall he ever be,” Maxon said.

“Maxon, have you any advice for us?” Lady Dewanne made a quick gesture with her paw to Corwin. An apology, Yilon thought, for usurping his speech. He acknowledged the gesture and turned, as the others did, to the steward.

“Advice? I have advice for you.” He pointed at Yilon, who tried to look affronted. “Send the heir back to Divalia and find someone more suitable, who will treat the history of Dewanne with respect.”

Listen to him, Yilon pleaded silently, while at the same time attempting to keep up his wounded expression.

“He was treating it with respect,” Corwin said. “He wanted to keep it safe on his person. His only crime was not being vigilant enough.”

“His crime was trusting mice. Mark my words, that mouse that came with him from Divalia is behind this.”

Yilon squirmed, the glow of his plan’s success shadowed by this new twist. “Leave him out of it,” he said.

Maxon cleared his throat to say something else, but Lady Dewanne cut him off. “I said, there will be time for blame later. We know how many different parties might have an interest in the crown.”

“Yes, your ladyship,” he said, though his eyes remained mutinous.

“Do you have advice?” she repeated.

“Yes.” He glared at Yilon. “Send him home and then send twenty guards to scour the Warren until the crown is found.”

“We’ll not repeat Kishin’s mistake,” Velkan said.

“Mayhap Kishin had the right idea,” Maxon shot back.

“We will not consider a revival of Kishin’s ideas, Canis bless him,” Lady Dewanne said.

Maxon turned to her. “Simply because he executed them poorly—”

“That’s enough, Maxon.” Lady Dewanne pointed to the door. “You may go.”

The steward shut his jaw with a click. He looked around the table, letting his eyes rest on Yilon, then got up slowly and walked to the door. With one final look back at all of them, he left.

Lady Dewanne sighed. “He feels the weight of more responsibility. Especially since…”

“Nevertheless.” Velkan turned toward the door, stroking his whiskers, and then returned to the meeting. “What is the disposition of the nobility, Corwin?”

“Ah, a question I can answer. I’m sorry to say that there is still a considerable amount of unrest. Each family resents, to one extent or another, the naming of an heir from Divalia. They will accept him, in time, but this incident, as you put it, will not be a help.”

“I am certain it will not,” Lady Dewanne said. “Be sure of our facts and then strike cleanly and efficiently.”

“So you don’t blame the mice?” Yilon sat up.

Velkan favored him with a cool look. “Your story is insufficient to assign blame, except in your own carelessness.”

Yilon folded his ears down. Lady Dewanne tapped the table with a claw. “Corwin?”

“My lady.” He bowed toward her. “I know Velkan has only improved his judgment since I recommended him. I would not dream of questioning him.”

“So you agree.” She inclined her head as Corwin nodded. “Very well, then. I know that you are retired, but if I might beg your help in this one matter, I would be most grateful.”

“My lady,” Corwin said, “of me you may ask anything and I would gladly give it.”