Castle Murders (7 page)

"That sounds like fun."

Osmirik reddened slightly. "It was very nice of you to visit, ladies."

"Thanks, Ozzie. See you."

Osmirik watched them leave, then set back down. He picked up another gaudily covered paperback.

"
I Remember Rama
," he said, shaking his head. "Postmodernist, perhaps?"

 

The water in the pool was warm. Melanie floated on her back and looked up at the immense skylight, a ceiling of glass held up by ribbed columns of stone. Sunlight streamed through it, and the bright blue sky beyond it was clear and pure.
 

The irregularly shaped swimming pool, fed at its farther end by a waterfall, was surrounded by a lush botanical garden. The tops of tropical trees brushed the skylight. The water wasn't chlorinated, and lily pads floated at one end of the pool. No Olympic facility was ever like this.
 

Melanie swam to the edge of the pool and waded up a stone stairway. She and Linda were alone in using the natatorium, but Melanie had a feeling that no one would have given their nudity a second glance. Linda lay on her back on a chaise lounge, eyes closed. Melanie dragged another chaise close and stretched out on it. Lacing her hands behind her head, she watched the waterfall and let the sunlight warm and dry her.
 

"I feel so good," Melanie said.

"I like it here, too. One of the few places in the castle where you can get some real sun. Besides the solarium. And one or two of the sitting rooms. Or six or seven."
 

"I never heard of a castle with a glass roof."

Linda opened her eyes. "You know, now that I think about it, that can't be the roof. We're in the castle keep, which is Lord knows how many stories high. But the natatorium is only six stories above the . . ." Linda frowned. "It doesn't make sense. There should be about forty stories above us."
 

They looked up.

"Doesn't look like it, huh?" Linda said.

"That's the sky."

"Yeah. Well, it only goes to show you. Forget about anything making spatial sense inside the castle. It isn't laid out in normal space — whatever that means. But Gene says so, and he's real smart."
 

"I'm not going to try to figure it out," Melanie said. "It's all too wonderful. It might disappear if I analyze it too much."

"It might. I mean it all could just disappear. In the past it almost has."

"Tell me about it."

"You'll hear the stories in the dining hall. Jeremy still brags about how he saved the castle from the Hosts of Hell."

"The Hosts of Hell," Melanie said with a shiver. "Whoever they are, they sound scary."

"They were. And the Blue Meanies. And the strange stuff that was going on when Gene and I first got here. I never did figure out what that was all about. A lot of it is fuzzy in my mind."
 

"Fuzzy?"

"Yeah," Linda said, rising to one elbow. "It all seems like a dream now. In fact, Incarnadine sometimes kids me that it was a dream. That it never really happened."
 

"What never really happened?"

"Oh, it's hard to explain."

"Can you try?"

Linda chewed her lip.

Melanie said, "If you don't want to, you know, it's okay."

Linda drew a breath and let it out. "No, I guess you should know just how crazy things can get around here. When I first got here, I was lost. Then I met Gene and Snowclaw, and we wandered for days. Then . . . something happened. But maybe it didn't happen at all."
 

"But what didn't happen?"

"The castle — disappearing. And this huge dragon . . ." Linda seemed to look far away. "More than a dragon. Some horribly evil thing, huge, monstrous. It killed. Men died, screaming. It was horrible. And the dragon took off into the sky. Me, I'm back home, back on Earth, and it's starting all over again, as if it never happened, and then the dragon comes back —" Linda's stare turned inward, pensive.
 

Melanie was watching her, puzzled and concerned.

Linda grew aware of Melanie's gaze. She smiled bleakly, then lay back down and sighed, shaking her head. "I'm not going to think about it. I've tried before and never got anywhere."
 

"Does it really bother you?"

"No, not really. The castle is a dream. Anything can happen, and does. You just have to live with that."

"I can live with it," Melanie said. "I can live with anything but facing the real world."

"Sometimes this world is all too real. Like I said, there's a dark side. A dangerous side. It ain't called Castle Perilous for nothing, honey."
 

"You don't seem scared by it."

"Well, I'm not, now. At first I was. Very scared. Then I got my magic powers, and that scared the stuffing out of me. But after that I learned to use the powers and got good at it. They've saved my life on more than one occasion."
 

Melanie looked up at the sky again. How could there be any doubt that this world was real?

But what about the "worlds" through the portals? During Linda's guided tour Melanie had been reminded of going through a museum of natural history, passing by one diorama after another. Linda hadn't conducted her through any aspects, and Melanie wasn't quite ready to accept one more strange reality, let alone 144,000 of them.
 

They lay soaking up the sunlight. The long afternoon wore on. Everything was quiet except for the splashing of the waterfall. Scents of tropical flowers hung in the humid air.
 

Melanie had almost dozed off when Linda shook her and dumped a towel in her lap.

"We have time to see the armory, the gaming room, and a few other places before dinner," Linda announced. "Or are you tired yet?"
 

"No, just nodding," Melanie told her. "There's more to see?"

"Much more, but I'm going to skip the rest of the tour bit. You'll have plenty of time to explore on your own when you get your sea legs. Besides, I've got duties. There are a few more Earthies I might want to recruit. You could help with that."
 

"Sure, anything I can do," Melanie said as she dried her long reddish-brown hair.

"Good, but at this point you can't do much but be there and reassure people that they're not going bonkers."

"You know, I never thought that, not for one minute."

"Well, just in case."

They both dressed and left the natatorium, which was adjacent to the gymnasium. The latter was a huge chamber with squash courts, dumbbells, Indian clubs, a duckpin bowling alley, and other strenuous opportunities.
 

Exiting the gym, they came out onto the landing of a great stairway that wound around a three-story-high court. They went down the stairs, talking and laughing. On reaching the second landing, they found a group of people standing there chatting, and one man turned and grinned amiably. Linda went to him, hugged him, and joined in the chatter. Melanie hung back and watched for a while, then went to the railing and looked out. Below was a fountain with a statue of a dragon spilling water from its mouth.
 

She left the rail and went down the hallway a short distance without finding anything of interest. On her way back she found light pouring through a wide doorway that she was sure had not been there before. There was no door, just an oblong taken out of the wall. How could she have missed it? Maybe the door had slid open.
 

She walked through and stepped out into a forest glade of huge oaks and beech. Birds twittered in the treetops. Little toadstools grew on a rotting stump to her right. Forest smells were strong. A brook ran through a ravine below.
 

She realized before long that this was an aspect, and a very pleasant one. The air was temperate, and bright sun played atop the leafy canopy overhead, sending shafts of light through to dapple the shade. She walked out farther from the aperture, then turned around to view it. The portal looked like a huge 3-D photograph standing upright. It was flat, like a screen, with nothing behind it. Yet within its depths the corridor was still there, in three lifelike dimensions.
 

She marveled at the sight, then turned away to stroll down a well-worn path.

She didn't get very far. Hearing Linda call her name, she turned back. When she reached the portal, Linda was standing on the other side, shouting down the hallway.
 

"Here I am." Melanie took a few steps toward the portal.

Linda whirled and looked dismayed. "Melanie, get out of there! That's a —"

Then Linda disappeared, along with the corridor and the castle.

Without warning, the upright oblong had vanished, closing off the hole leading back to the world of Perilous, and leaving Melanie utterly alone with birdsong and the soft rustling of leaves in the wind.
 

 

 

 

Formal Garden

 

The Earl of Belgard was indignant.

"You mean to say we're trapped here until His Majesty makes an appearance?"

Tyrene nodded and gave an apologetic shrug. "I'm afraid those were his explicit instructions, my lord."

The earl mumbled something which Tyrene tactfully ignored.

"Might I ask again, my lord — when was the last time you saw the viscount?"

"If it was not when we were playing hedge, I do not know when it was. And I must tell you I highly resent this line of questioning."

The earl was a tall man with a handlebar mustache, dressed in morning coat, striped trousers, and top hat. He carried a Malacca cane and wore a monocle.
 

"My lord, I have been charged by His Majesty himself with the task of investigating the murder of the viscount, and I am acting in his behalf. I beg your cooperation."
 

All over the garden, lords and ladies sat idly by, waiting. They looked bored, nervous, and put out, all at the same time.

The earl took his monocle out. He rubbed it on the sleeve of his coat and re-fit it over his right eye. The lens was, Thaxton guessed, a double affectation. The earl probably didn't need spectacles at all. The monocle was extraordinarily good, though, for projecting pique.
 

The earl said, "And I tell you I have nothing whatsoever of value to relate. My wife and I played hedge ball with the viscount, but as to the last time I saw him, I do not remember exactly where or when it was. I take little notice of trivialities."
 

Tyrene bowed slightly. "Thank you, my lord. My apologies."

The earl huffed again and turned away.

"Well, nothing so far," Tyrene said to Thaxton, who, along with Dalton, had been standing within earshot.

"You have a few people yet to interview," Thaxton noted.

"Quite a few, and if they're all as helpful as the earl, I'll get nowhere and Lord Incarnadine will have me thrown in the oubliette for incompetence."
 

"I doubt it. He realizes the problems involved. These upper-class types are a touchy lot."

Tyrene looked glum. "I was exaggerating about the oubliette, but I hope His Majesty will be understanding just the same. Nobody here seems to have seen anything."
 

"Perhaps there was nothing to see. But what do we have so far?"

"Naught, I'm sorry to say," Tyrene replied. "According to Princess Dorcas, the viscount arrived at precisely one o' the clock, castle time. He talked with almost everybody, seeming in good spirits. He played hedge ball with Belgard, Lady Rowena, and Count Damik. He ate — quite a bit, as he has a good appetite — then, quite suddenly, he left the party and walked back into the castle."
 

Dalton said, "Then it's pretty clear he was murdered in the castle."

"Which fact," Thaxton offered, "swells the suspect list to something near infinity."

"Aye," Tyrene agreed, with a pained expression. "All too true."

"And gives everyone here an ironclad alibi," Thaxton pointed out.

"I don't know whether to feel relieved at that or to wish for some clue gainsaying it," Tyrene said.

"A clue to the contrary would narrow things down a bit," Thaxton said. "But we don't have a murder weapon, or even a good suspect, yet."
 

"Has there ever been a murder in the castle?" Dalton asked.

"Not within recent memory," Tyrene told him. "Gods be thanked, Perilous doesn't seem to attract the murdering sort. A few thieves now and then, but no cutthroats."
 

"And since the viscount's jewels were left, we can rule out robbery as a motive," Dalton said.

"Might you two have frightened the thief away?" Tyrene asked.

"Possibly," Thaxton said. "But we would have seen him leave the alcove. Otherwise he heard us coming very far off. In that case, any self-respecting thief would have grabbed those rings."
 

"Quite right," Tyrene agreed. "Unless . . ."

"An aspect?"

"Yes, there is an intermittent aspect in that alcove. At least the castle registry lists one. The name eludes me at the moment, but the murderer could have escaped through there. If he knew the periodicity of the aspect."
 

"Know what's on the other side?"

"Not offhand, but it can be checked. In any event, it might be beside the point. The murderer could have dragged the body into the alcove simply to hide it from view."
 

"He didn't do a very good job," Thaxton remarked. "We were just passing by."

"I happened to glance in," Dalton said. "Otherwise we'd be playing golf now."

"But where was the viscount bound?" Tyrene wondered. "He was walking in a direction opposite from the one he'd have been going in had he been on his way home."
 

Thaxton looked over Tyrene's shoulder, and the captain turned, following his gaze, to find Princess Dorcas approaching.

"Your Royal Highness," Tyrene said, bowing.

The princess was dressed in something like a sari, but even more colorful. She wore large gold earrings shaped like butterflies, several gold bracelets, and a heap of gold chain necklaces. A single diamond was somehow affixed to the middle of her forehead. She was a pretty woman, if somewhat overweight and, by consequence, somewhat matronly. Her hair was an almost-black and her eyes were large and very blue. The eyes had a penetrating quality, belied by an ever-present smile, which, though still present, was now not quite so wide or all-embracing.