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Authors: Tamora Pierce

Tags: #Adventure, #Mystery, #Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Young Adult, #Romance, #Magic

Mastiff (14 page)

BOOK: Mastiff
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Tunstall stopped me. “I’d rather crawl under there than be drenched anymore.”

I sheathed my blade, thinking it would take a while to oil it and dry out the sheath when we were done. “You first,” I invited him.

He pulled his stone lamp from his pocket. “Follow me, then.”

“Tunstall? How long do you think those things will shine?” I asked as we ducked under the canvas. “Kora’s lights don’t last more than an hour—two, if she remembers to refresh the spell.”

“I don’t know,” Tunstall said, kneeling beside the first pair of rowers. “Ask Master Farmer. They’re his stones.”

I grimaced at the bad joke. “Why can’t you? I’ve talked with enough people of late.”

Tunstall shook his head. “One day you won’t have me to take up any extra chatter for you. Then what? You’ll have to do it all yourself.” He raised the lamp so I could see that these rowers, too, were gripped to the oar by the wood. “Master Farmer doesn’t seem that bad.”

“He was decent about the cooking,” I agreed. “And he didn’t whine in all the rain last night. I do wish I knew more about him—my lord never said anything of him to me.”

“Folk usually only talk about great mages,” Tunstall replied. “And how often do you get to sit down and talk the work with my lord these days?”

“True enough,” I said. My life was far busier since Achoo had come to me, and it wasn’t fit for me to be seen often with Lord Gershom. Folk might think I was his Birdie, reporting to him on our kennel’s goings-on. When I did visit, he and I usually talked about crime in Corus.

Tunstall turned and went on to the stern of the ship, down the middle. I followed him close enough to hear him say, over the pounding of rain on canvas, “If we stay on this Hunt together, let’s pray he knows enough to keep us alive!”

When he reached the hatch to the hold, he pulled it off and descended the ladder one-handed, the lamp held out so it would light the area below him. I waited for him to halt before I went down, listening as I strained my eyes to see what lay there.

The
Rover
was no slave ship. There was no setup for narrow bunks with chains attached to the foot. Like the
Lash
, the
Rover
sported a great hole punched through the center of the keel. My mirror revealed the magic that had made that hole, the same mix of colors that painted the upper deck to trap the crew. There were protective spells of a deep crimson shade different from that destructive power. Amulets, spells cut into the wood around us, and charms twinkled white in the mirror. I wondered how long they would last now, with no one to renew them.

From the ladder we could see a crate or two remaining in the prow and the stern, and a wine jar afloat in the water that had come in through the hole. Some cutlasses, daggers, and small shields still hung from nails on the keel. Blankets floated on the water. The rest of the hold was empty as near as we could tell.

We had to search what was there, or we had to try. Tunstall stung his hands on the magic on the cargo. I picked up another blister trying to see what was in the pockets of those who stood on deck around the wheel. That was enough. We were happy to get off that ship.

We found the foot of the cliffs, where I retrieved my footgear, and used them to guide us to the cave where we had left Achoo. We had to dodge a hundred tiny waterfalls that poured off the heights, all produced by the steady, hammering rain. I threw another curse toward the unseen mage, or mages. I wanted to hang them upside down on these same cliffs in their own storm, a kind of natural version of the torture called the Drink. See how they liked it.

Achoo greeted us with dancing and a wagging tail when we found her. We were in no hurry to leave the shelter of the cave once we reached it. Sitting on a rock, I watched my partner and rubbed Achoo’s wet fur, wondering what was going through Tunstall’s mind. I’d respected him from before my Puppy year—he was a legend in the Lower City, him and our former partner, Goodwin. Being his only partner over the last two years, I had learned there was plenty that went on in his fuzzy nob that most folk didn’t expect. He played the part of lolloping barbarian so well that it never occurred to many that he’d have died young if he was who he seemed to be.

“These Rats have deep pockets, Beka,” Tunstall said at last. “Deeper than my old mother’s loincloth.” He always swore his mother had birthed twelve children and had a bottom as big as a bridge. “Deep enough to throw away two ships, their crews, and nearabout thirty slaves—if they did drown all of the slaves. I think they did. The group we followed to the river was a small one.”

I nodded. That all matched what I was thinking. I was proud of myself for following Tunstall so far.

“Magic that big is never cheap. Whoever Hunts these Rats will need plenty of mages of their own, and who’s to say they can be trusted?” Tunstall rubbed the top of his skull. “Curse it, I hate handling mages, you know I do. But this Hunt is lousy with them already.” Tunstall looked at the ceiling of the cave and blew out a huge breath. “I’d like Goodwin on this, so I would. No insult to you. You’re the best new Dog I’ve ever worked with.”

I looked at the sandy floor, hoping he couldn’t see the color in my cheeks. I knew he liked me. We’re still partners, after all! But this was serious praise, coming from an old-timer like him!

“Still, we could use Goodwin,” he said. “Too bad she’s gotten to like going home with her skin in one piece.” He was very quiet for a long moment. At last he got to his feet. “It’s not getting drier out there.”

I nodded and stood. “We’ve faced rough Hunts before,” I reminded him. “It’s the royalty that itches me. I don’t want to fail Her Majesty.”

“We won’t, then,” Tunstall said. “We’ve got Achoo, right, girl? And Achoo hasn’t lost a lass or lad yet.”

She knew he was complimenting her. She bruffed and wagged her tail, ramming Tunstall in the side with her head.

He’d cheered me up, too, because he was right. Achoo had found every little one we’d been set to find. Surely a prince was just a little lad with better clothes than most.

“Goddess, thank you for our hound,” I said as I threaded my boots and stockings through my belt. Squinting, I plunged into the rain. Tunstall and Achoo ran out past me.

The flooded trail that had swept me down before was even deeper and faster after all of the morning’s extra rain. Achoo couldn’t even keep her footing. We backed off and checked the other paths, but they were no better. Tunstall slung Achoo over his shoulders and went first, barefooted still, gripping the slabs of rock on the right side of the path with hands and feet to make the climb. I clambered up a foot on the left side and did the same, though not so ably. I slipped and slid, bruising and scraping my poor bare feet.

And what does my cracked partner do, partway up that small river channeled by the rock walls? He halted, turned his head back, and shouted over the roar of rain and storm-stream, “Why did the looby go into that back room alone anyway?”

I stared at him. I couldn’t believe it. Then I could, because it was Tunstall. When he had a question, he’d ask it, and wait for the answer, no matter what. “What are you doing? Go!” I cried. “Before we drown!”

“Why did Holborn do it?” he demanded. He shifted himself so Achoo could sit better on his shoulders. She looked at me and whined.

“Goddess save me,” I whispered. “I want a partner who doesn’t need to be locked up and fed caudles!” I leaned my face against the rock for a moment, then looked at him again. “Holborn didn’t think!” I shouted. “He was always looking for a chance to bag more Rats and claim to be the best Dog. He didn’t think! His partner, Ahern? He said that’s why he was glad Jane Street and Flash District paired up for that raid.” My voice caught. I had to clear my throat. “Ahern said Holborn was always like that, charging on in, and he thought having me there would slow him down. But it didn’t, and the slavers had guards waiting for somebody to do just what Holborn did.” I wiped the water out of my face with my shoulder. It figured. Just when I cried a little, the stupid rain was easing.

It made me feel better to see that Tunstall was looking at the sky, not at me. “Letting up,” he said. “Stopping maybe.”

I heard a whipping sort of noise and cursed our positions. We were out in the open. The only way we could get to our weapons was by letting go of the rock. That meant dropping into the hard current of water in the path, which could well knock us off our feet and sweep us back down to the ocean.

Tunstall was braced with his feet as well as his arms. He was groping for his baton when we both saw what made the sound. A pair of climbing ropes dropped along the sides of the path. In another moment two coves of the King’s Own swung down on them, bouncing off the stone like dancers. With great leaps they soared over Tunstall and me, then halted just behind us.

“My lord Gershom’s calling all over for you two,” one of them said. “Mistress Orielle looked in her glass and found you for us. You’re lucky my cousin and I are climbers.”

“We could wait. The rain’s stopping.” Tunstall wasn’t the best of rope climbers. “The water will go down fast enough.”

The other was grinning. “Of course, Guardsman. We’ll go back and tell that to my lord Gershom, right off.”

I reached over and seized the rope. “I’m going,” I said. “I’ll take Achoo.”

Tunstall sighed. “No.” He got the rope behind himself and my hound so that he gripped it in each hand, leaning against it with his bum. I’d positioned my rope in the same way around me. Tunstall had learned to climb rocks in the eastern hills, while I had learned it only last year, chasing murderers with Achoo in the Royal Forest. It was amazing how useful I found the skill among the warehouses along the river.

We were two-thirds of the way up the cliff when the rain, which had looked good to stop completely, began to pour again.

A handful of ladies-in-waiting watched for us from the kitchen doorway. As soon as they got a look at us they started to grab drying cloths. I looked around for Master Farmer. He stood by the largest hearth, stirring a pot of something that smelled very good.

He looked at us. “You’re wet.”

Tunstall scratched at his whiskers. “With those powers of observation, I’ll wager the army and the City of the Gods were fighting over you,” he said.

“Naw,” Master Farmer replied with his three-cornered grin. “The army found out I don’t know my left foot from my right. It’s a problem. Would you like to be dry, then? I can do that much for you.”

“Five days staked in the blazing sun won’t dry us off, but you’re welcome to try,” said Tunstall.

Master Farmer looked at me. “Cooper? Have you objections? I can dry your hound off, too.”

I ground my teeth. I hate it when magic’s put on me, but we were summoned before Lord Gershom. It was bad enough that I wore a muddy uniform. It would be so much worse to have it wet into the bargain. I nodded, keeping my eyes on the floor. “Thank you, Master Farmer.”

“Are you sure?” he asked. “You don’t seem eager. I won’t force you.” It was funny, that he truly seemed to want to know.

I nodded at the floor again. “I dislike being soaked a little worse than I dislike being magicked,” I explained. “But there’s no sense in being foolish about it when Achoo’s shivering and we have to attend upon Lord Gershom.”

For a moment everything around my legs and Achoo turned dark blue. Then they took on their normal colors. Achoo’s curls were even straight. My breeches hung without a wrinkle. So too did my tunic. Touching the boots and stockings I’d tucked into my belt, I found they were dry as well. I sat on a bench to put them on as I inspected Tunstall. He looked as if maids had pressed his uniform and shined his boots.

One of the gentlemen who attended the king ran into the chamber. He halted when he saw us. “My lord Gershom wants to know where—” He stopped. I would have wagered a week’s pay that the words Lord Gershom had actually used were not those the gentleman said. “Where in the gods’ names have the three Hunters gotten to, Scanra? He requested their appearance some time ago.”

We looked at Master Farmer. He shrugged. “I wasn’t going to see him without you. It didn’t seem fitting.”

We followed the messenger. Achoo remained in the kitchen, curled up by a warm hearth. Since I felt she’d had enough excitement for the morning, I let her stay. I looked around for Pounce, but he was nowhere in sight. I suspected he was still cozy in bed.

The messenger led us to an open door, but he did not follow us into the room beyond. He closed the door behind us. My lord sat at a desk, his long hair falling forward into his face as he scribbled on a parchment. He’d secured a study for his work, one that was lined with maps like his study at home. There were five chairs besides the one that he used. There were books and scrolls in shelves along the walls. Master Farmer wandered over to look at them.

My lord finished what he was writing and scattered sand over it to dry the ink. “Where were you?” he demanded, glaring at us. “There’s work to be done!”

Growing up in my lord’s house, I was no match for that growl, which always meant some servant was in trouble. I wanted to run. Luckily, Master Farmer and Tunstall were made of sterner stuff. Master Farmer looked over his shoulder and said, “I was cooking breakfast with Tunstall’s help. You need servants, Gershom. The nobles can’t cook, they upset the hens, and they’re helpless with cows. Unless you want Tunstall, Cooper, and me to do all of the chores while everyone continues to eat cheese and raw vegetables. The bread’s getting stale, you know.”

My lord glared him into silence. Master Farmer took a chair, leaned back, and crossed his legs at the ankle. He looked prepared to lounge there all day.

Tunstall explained, “Me and Cooper did some nosing about after us lads finished cooking breakfast, my lord.” His owl eyes were perfectly calm. “We had us a look at the raiders’ ships, since they’re above water.”

“But it’s pouring outside!” my lord protested. “How did you even get down there?”

“We climbed it,” Tunstall replied. “It was a sarden holiday to manage, too.”

My lord leaned back and put his hands behind his head. “Take a chair, you two,” he ordered. As we obeyed, he said to Tunstall, “Go on. What did you find?”

BOOK: Mastiff
6.53Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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