Michael Sullivan - The emerald storm

"Not that. I want to know why we didn't find anything wrong with the spouts."

"Because there's a million levers and switches in there and we were looking for just one?"

"I don't think so. When we got to the bridge what was it you said? You said you didn't think anyone except I could scale that fortress. I think you're right. I know Merrick couldn't. He's a genius, not an elf. I always outdid him when it came to anything physical."

"So?"

"So, a thought has been nagging me since they brought us here. How could Merrick get into Drumindor to sabotage it?"

"He figured another way in."

"We spent weeks trying to do that, remember?"

"Maybe he bribed someone on the inside, or maybe he paid someone to break in."

"Who?" Royce thought a minute. "This is too important to trust to someone who might be able to do it-he would need someone he knew could do it."

"But how do you know someone can do something until they've actually-" Hadrian stopped himself as the realization hit. "Oh, that's not good."

"Throughout this whole thing we've been following two letters, both written by Merrick. The first we thought was intercepted and delivered to Alric, but what if it was intentionally sent to him? Everyone knows we work for Melengar."

"Which led us to the Emerald Storm," Hadrian said.

"Right. Where we got the next letter-the one to be delivered to that crazy Tenkin in the jungle, and it just happened to mention that Drumindor was set to blow."

"I'm not liking where this is heading," Hadrian muttered.

"And what if Merrick knew about the master gear?"

"That's impossible. Gravis is dead. Crushed, as I recall, under one of those big gears."

"Yes. He is dead, but Lord Byron isn't. He probably boasted about how he saved Drumindor by hiring two no account thieves."

"It still seems too perfect," Hadrian tried to convince himself. "In retrospect sure, it sounds like the pieces fall into place, but there are too many things that could have gone wrong along the way."

"Right. That's why he had someone on board the Storm making sure it all worked-Derning. Did you see the way he took off the moment we hit dock? He knew what was coming and wanted to get away."

"I should have let you kill him."

Silence.

"You're nodding, aren't you?"

"I didn't say a word."

"Bastard," Hadrian grumbled.

"You know the worst thing?"

"I've got a pretty long list of bad things right now, and I'm not sure which one I would put on top. So, I'll bite."

"We did exactly what Merrick couldn't do himself. He used us to disarm Drumindor."

"So, he never sabotaged anything. That would explain why Gile laughed when I told him Drumindor was going to explode. He knew it wasn't. Merrick promised he would have it intact. Merrick's a bloody genius."

"I think I mentioned that, once or twice."

"So, now what?" Hadrian asked.

"Now, nothing. He's beaten us. He's sitting somewhere with a warm cup of cider smiling smugly with his feet up on the pile of money he's just been paid."

"We have to warn them to re-engage the master gear."

"Go ahead."

Hadrian began shouting until the little observation door opened flooding the cell with light.

"We need to speak to someone. It's important."

"What is it?"

"We realized the mistake we made. We were tricked. You need to tell the commander at Drumindor that we locked the master gear. We can show him where it is and how to release it.

"You two never stop, do you? I'm not sure if you're really saboteurs or just plain nuts. One thing's for certain, we're going to find out how you got in, and then we're going to kill you."

The observation door closed casting them back into darkness.

"That worked out really well," Royce pointed out. "Feel better now?"

"Bastard," Hadrian repeated.

The Escape Arista stayed in the corner of the stable, wrapped in Hilfred's arms most of the night. He stroked her hair, and from time to time without any particular reason, kissed her passionately. It felt safe and lying there, Arista realized two things. First, she was certain she could be content remaining in his arms forever. And Second, she was not in love with Hilfred.

He was a good friend, a piece of home she missed so dearly that she drank him in with a desert-born thirst, but something was missing. She thought it strange she came to this conclusion while in his arms. Yet she knew it with perfect clarity. She did not love Hilfred and she had not loved Emery. Hilfred was the big brother she had grown up with, and Emery she had barely known. She was not even certain what love was, what it should feel like, or if it existed at all.

Noblewomen rarely knew the men they married before their wedding day. Perhaps they grew to love their husbands in time, or merely grew to believe they did. At least she knew Hilfred loved her. He loved enough for both of them. She could feel it radiating off him like warmth from smoldering coals. He deserved happiness after so long, after so much sacrifice; she would make it up to him. She would return to Melengar and marry him. She would make him Archduke Reuben Hilfred. She laughed softly at the thought.

"What?"

"I just remembered your first name is Reuben."

Hilfred laughed then pointed to his face. "I look like this, and you're making fun of my name?"

She took his face in her hands. "I wish you wouldn't do that. I think you're beautiful."

He kissed her again.

Periodically, Hilfred would peek out at the sky and check the position of the moon. Eventually he returned and said, "It's time."

She nodded and once more Arista transformed into the morose visage of the Regent Saldur.

"I still can't believe it," Hilfred told her.

"I know. I'm really starting to get the hang of this. Care to kiss me again?" she asked, and laughed at his expression. "Now remember, don't do anything. The idea is to just walk in, and walk out. No fighting, understand?"

Hilfred nodded.

They stepped out of the stable. As they did, Arista looked up at Modina's window. It was dark, but she was certain she saw her figure sitting framed within it. Once again, she recalled her final words and regretted not asking her to come. Maybe she would have refused, but now that it was too late. She wished she had at least asked.

Nipper came out of the kitchens, yawning and carrying two empty water buckets. He stopped short, surprised to see them.

She ignored him and headed directly to the tower.

Just as before, the Seret Knight stood at attention in the center of the room, his face hidden, his shoulders back, the jeweled sword at his side.

"I am going to see Degan Gaunt. Open up."

The guard drew his sword.

There was a brief moment of terror when Arista's heart pounded so loudly she thought the seret might hear. She glanced at Hilfred and saw him flinch, his hand approaching his own weapon. Then the knight bent on one knee and lightly tapped the stone floor with the pommel. Immediately, the stones slid awrevealing a stair curving into the darkness.

"Shall I come with you, Your Grace?"

Arista considered this. She had no idea what was down there. It could be one cell or a maze of corridors. It might take her a long time to discover where Gaunt was. Just outside, she heard Nipper filling his buckets; the castle was already waking up.

"Yes, of course. Lead the way."

"As you wish, Your Grace." The knight pulled a torch from the wall and descended the steps.

It was dark inside. The stair was narrow and oppressive. Ahead, she could hear the sounds of faint weeping. The same heavy stones that made up the base of the tower formed the dungeon. Here however, decorations adorned the walls. Nothing recognizable, merely abstract designs carved everywhere. Arista felt she had seen them before, not these exactly, but similar ones.