"I'm only passing through, guardian," Giogi said. "Don't bother—" Giogi's voice cracked. He swallowed hard to wet his throat before continuing. "Don't bother yourself on my account."
"Is this little morsel for me?" the guardian asked as a shadowy talon elongated and traveled across the ceiling and down the wall toward Olive.
Olive could've sworn the air grew colder as the shadow claw drew near her.
Giogi interposed himself between his burro and the darkness. "This is Birdie, and I need her to search the catacombs, so I would appreciate it if you would leave her undisturbed."
The voice laughed. "Not too little anymore, are you? I shall respect your wish. But you've come too late, my Giogioni. The spur has been taken."
"I know that," Giogi said. He could feel a bead of sweat trickling down his face as he mustered all his courage and asked, "Why didn't you stop the thief?"
"My charge is to let Wyvernspurs pass unslain," the guardian replied matter-of-factly.
"So which of us took the spur?" Giogi demanded.
"I have no idea. Wyvernspurs are all alike to me. Like shadows on a wall."
"Great," Giogi muttered.
"Except you, Giogioni. You are different. Like Cole, like Paton. Kissed by Selune."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Do you remember what we spoke of when you were here last?"
"I've been trying to forget it, actually."
"You can never forget the death cry of prey, nor the taste of warm blood, nor the crunch of bone."
Olive's ears pricked up at the unusual pattern of words. Wyvern poetry? she wondered.
"I have to go," Giogi insisted. He tugged on the burro's halter. Olive needed no further coaxing. She trotted across the chamber at the nobleman's side, keeping him between her and the silhouette. As the only source of light in the room—Giogi's finder's stone—moved, the shadow did not shift position but remained looming on the far wall.
In that wall, beneath the shadow of the guardian's wing, was a small archway opening onto a downward staircase. As they neared the arch. Olive again felt the chill of the guardian. They passed through the archway unharmed, though, and the chill did not extend beyond the crypt. They had passed out of the guardian's realm.
Behind them, the creature called out in its bone-grating whisper, "You will always dream of these things, Giogi. You will dream of them until you've joined me forever."
Giogi hurried down the stairs, but at the first landing he slumped against the wall, trembling, with his hands covering his face.
Olive nuzzled him gently, concerned that he might go to pieces if she didn't keep him moving, and anxious to put another flight of stairs between them and the guardian.
Giogi pulled his hands away from his face, took a deep breath, and looked down at the burro. Olive could see tears in the corners of his eyes. "I was wrong," he said. "She is just as terrible as I remembered. It's her horrible dream. If I could just stop dreaming that damned dream."
7
Cat
Giogi stood up straight and took a few deep breaths to compose himself. He was over the worst of it. While the catacombs were no doubt more deadly, they did not hold the same terror for him as the crypt. "Come on, Birdie," he said, heading down the next flight of steps.
Olive let out her breath in relief and followed.
The passage descending into the catacombs was hewn out of the rock. No marble or cut and fitted stone lined it, and the bare rock was rough and dirty. Water dripped from the ceiling, seeped from the walls, and trickled down the stairs. The steps were crumbling in places and were slick with mud and slimy fungus. Someone heading down the stairs had left large, deep boot impressions in the muck.
"Steele's footprints," Giogi muttered unhappily as he plodded down the stairs alongside them. He didn't really want to join his cousin. Steele didn't want his company, and if, as Uncle Drone had said, the thief wasn't down here, Steele was very likely to lose his temper with Giogi. He had to join Steele, anyway, because Uncle Drone had insisted on it. Giogi was just now beginning to suspect why—considering the old wizard's confession last night and Julia's revelation this morning.
It looks as if Uncle Drone has been up to skullduggery on my behalf, Giogi thought uneasily. He wants me to pretend to look for the thief so no one blames me for the theft.
Giogi sighed, and the sound echoed up and down the stairway. "Have you ever noticed, Birdie," he asked philosophically, "that as soon as one's life has settled down, when there's nothing but clear sailing ahead, one's relatives steer one into the shoals, so to speak?"
Olive, whose concentration was riveted on descending the broken, slippery stairs while carrying enough provisions for an adventuring party of twelve, naturally did not reply.
"Take Freffie, for instance," Giogi said. "Two years ago, he decided I needed a career, and he talked me into joining the army. Me, a purple dragoon. Imagine! Fortunately, I was dismissed from service after accidentally releasing Aunt Dorath's pet land urchin into the provisions wagon." Giogi broke off detailing his family's interference in his life to concentrate on climbing down an especially crumbled section of stairs. He took care that the burro had sure footing each step before pulling on her lead rope.
After they'd overcome that obstacle, the nobleman continued his monologue. "Then last year, Aunt Dorath decided Minda Lluth was just the girl for me. Minda talked me into all sorts of foolish things, then abandoned me while I struggled to extricate myself from the trouble she'd gotten me into. She convinced me to do my impersonation of Azoun at Freffie's wedding, then, after I nearly got killed, she went and married someone else," Giogi griped sullenly. He kicked a chunk of stairs down ahead of them.
Unable to ignore Giogi's last comment, Olive suddenly realized, That's the wedding I sang at last year. Giogi's Cousin Freffie must be Lord Frefford Wyvernspur. Olive had sat right in front of the wedding party table, but for the life of her, she could not remember the groom's features. The man had been eclipsed by his bride, three hundred wedding guests, and the excitement of watching Alias try to assassinate his Cousin Giogi. I'll have to get another look at Frefford, Olive decided, before I can rule him out as Jade's murderer.
It took Giogi a few minutes to overcome his disappointment with Minda and focus on his current problem. "Now, Julia tells me that Uncle Drone has been trying to arrange for me to use the wyvern's spur," he said.
I know. I heard her, Olive thought. I was there, remember?
"Did I ask him to do this?" Giogi asked the burro, annoyance creeping into his voice. He answered his own question with an indignant tone. "I most certainly did not. Did he ask me if I'd mind him acting on my behalf? He most certainly did not!"
More calmly, Giogi stated, "I love my family," then he shouted, "but why can't they all just leave me alone?"
"Alone, alone, alone," the stairway echoed up and down.
Disturbed by the sound of his own voice reverberating through the dank corridors, Giogi continued his descent in silence.
Finally given the quiet to think, Olive tried to analyze the possibility that Steele could be Jade's murderer—based on all that Giogi and Julia had said about him. Steele Wyvernspur possessed a streak of cruelty and ruthlessness. That matched the murderer. Steel was supposed to be competent with a sword. The murderer could cast powerful spells, and, while it was unlikely he would also wield a sword well, it wasn't impossible. Every now and then, one came across a wizard proficient with a weapon besides a dagger. Steele wouldn't be too old, but he might be too young. If his sister, Julia, is anything to go by, he'll have the Wyvernspur face, Olive thought, but I won't know anything for sure until I get a good look at him.
It was at this point that Olive noticed a second set of footprints. They were smaller and less deep, apparently made by a woman or a small man wearing soft-soled slippers. The prints went up toward the crypt and back down to the catacombs. The thief's? Olive wondered excitedly.
Curious now to see this thief and eager to get a look at Giogi's cousin, Olive clomped down the stairs with more speed. Before she reached the bottom, the burro was walking ahead of Giogi and the lead rope, like a bloodhound on the hunt.
Finally, man and burro reached the bottom of the stairs. They stood in a small anteroom paved with rough stones. The light of the finder's stone revealed corridors leading away in three directions. Two of the corridors were heavily webbed over, but strands of torn spider silk wafted in the subterranean breeze of the third tunnel. Scattered at the tunnel's entrance was the hacked-up remains of a large spider. A heavy boot heel had left its imprint in the smeared spider ichor.
"Easy to see where Steele's been," Giogi said matter-of-factly. The noble unsheathed his foil for the first time. "At least he's brushed all the cobwebs away for us."
No, Olive thought. The thief would have done that. Steele's just following the culprit's trail.
Giogi led the way cautiously down the web-cleared corridor. There was nothing outstanding about the passage. Water had created it, and Giogi's ancestors had widened it. No jewels or precious metals glittered in the walls, no delicately carved stone columns towered over them. The surfaces all about them consisted of well-packed dirt, pockets of sand, pebbles, and rocks, and magically hewn stone. The corridor had been excavated for utility, not for show.
The sound of dripping water and their own footsteps echoed around Giogi and Olive. The air was moist and cold. Large, ugly spiders, chittering like angry squirrels, scrambled away from the light of the finder's stone.
The corridor continued straight for almost a thousand feet. The spiders and torn cobwebs ended abruptly. A short distance farther, the corridor began to twist and branch. In the absence of broken webs, Steele's route was no longer obvious.
At the branching, Giogi halted, sheathed his foil, and began rummaging through Olive's packs. He lightened her load by the weight of the portable stool, the picnic basket, the blanket, the sack of grain, and the map. After sprinkling a little grain on the blanket, he set up the stool, sat down, and poured himself tea in a tin mug.
This boy can really rough it, Olive thought sarcastically. No linen, no china, no butler.
Steele will have headed for the outer door, to see if the thief is sitting by it, Giogi decided. As he munched some old tea cakes, he examined his map for the quickest route to the door. When he looked up, his burro had its nose buried in his picnic basket. "Bad Birdie," he said, pushing Olive's muzzle away. "That's your food over there." He pointed to the grain on the blanket.
Olive pleaded with her eyes.
"Oh, very well," Giogi sighed. He drew out a cheese sandwich and fed it to her in pieces, then spoiled her with another slice of apple.
I wonder if I can get him to pour me some tea, too, Olive thought with a mental chuckle.
"No more, Birdie," Giogi said, rising suddenly to his feet. He packed up everything in a flurry and loaded it back on Olive. Before they continued, the nobleman drew out from the packs a jar of paint and a paint brush.
At every intersection, the nobleman consulted the map and painted a number on the wall. Several times, he had to turn the map or turn himself to get his bearings. Twice they retraced their steps to check a previous number. Their progress slowed to a crawl.
With their tedious pace and the sound of dripping water percolating through the stonework, Olive felt as if she were being tortured. She fought her irritability by reminding herself, You need the boy to get you out of this pit, Olive-girl. You can't afford for him to get confused.
They were halted in an intersection when Olive detected something flutter softly past her long ears. Giogi, intent on his map and paints, seemed not to notice it. Olive felt a prick near her haunches. She swished her tail automatically. She was just thinking, Useful things, tails, when a bloated crow-sized shape swooped down behind Giogi's head.
For a moment, Olive thought it was just a bat, but as it hovered by Giogi's neck, she saw it had feathery wings. Then she caught sight of its mosquitolike proboscis.
Olive brayed in terror, suddenly realizing what the prick she'd felt earlier had been.
Giogi whirled around at the sound. The light from the finder's stone flared, outlining a stirge nearly as large as a tomcat. Giogi leaped backward with a shriek, dropping the map, the paint can, and paint brush. Recovering his nerve quickly, though, he drew his foil and lunged at the creature. Too fat to gain altitude quickly, the startled creature swooped down and away, and Giogi's foil stabbed at empty air. The flying monster disappeared into the darkness.
Meanwhile, Olive was smashing her haunches against the uneven rock walls, trying to squash the bloodsucker she knew must be attached to her. She felt something solid catch between her body and the wall and rupture. Something wet seeped through the blanket between the packs and her back.
Was that the stirge or a water bag? she wondered. Not taking any chances, she kept on swinging her back half against the stone. The tea basket tumbled to the ground and things in the packs clattered against one another.
"Take it easy, Birdie," Giogi said. "You'll hurt yourself."
Take it easy, he says, while something's sucking my lifeblood away. In her mind Olive imagined a swarm of stirges hanging from her fuzzy belly like bats did from the ceilings of caves.
With a look of grim concern, Giogi raised his foil and lunged at the burro. Olive closed her eyes and held her breath.
She never felt the prick of the foil, but in less than a few seconds, Giogi was patting her back, whispering soothing words.
"It's all over now, girl. I got the lot"
The lot! Then there was more than one, Olive thought queasily. She opened her eyes. Skewered on the nobleman's sword, like cornish hens on a spit, were half a dozen stirges, the largest no bigger than a squirrel.
