Mercifully the finder's stone's light had dimmed back to its normal soft glow, so she didn't get a good look at them. Nonetheless, Olive had to fight back her nausea.
"Disgusting creatures, aren't they?" Giogi commented as he slid the bloodsuckers off his weapon and kicked the corpses against the wall. From the pallor of Giogi's face, Olive could tell he was not inured to battle. The young noble wiped his foil clean with a silk handkerchief, grimaced at the gore and stains on the fabric, and dropped the cloth over his kills.
He wasn't boasting after all, Olive thought with relief. He is competent with that foil. He managed to skewer the enemy without harming a hair on my head—or the other end, for that matter. We may live through this little jaunt yet.
After sheathing his foil, Giogi bent over to retrieve the supplies he'd dropped. He salvaged as much of the spilled paint as he could by mopping it up with the brush. Murmuring reassuring words to the burro, he reattached the picnic basket to Olive's packs and checked the security of the other supplies. He took another few moments to consult the map, picked up Olive's lead rope. and led her down the left-hand passageway.
They hadn't gone five paces when Giogi seemed to stumble. He toppled sideways, slumped against the wall, and slid to the floor. The map, paint brush, and jar tumbled out of his hands again, but his fingers remained clasped about the finder's stone.
Olive was at his side at once. Frantically she searched over his body, nuzzling and pawing at his cloak, looking for a stirge that might have attached itself to the nobleman without his knowing it. Her search yielded neither bloodsucking monster nor wound. Moreover, Giogi did not appear in any shock. He was breathing quite naturally and snoring softly. How can he fall asleep at a time like this! Olive thought.
A tongue clicked behind her to attract her attention. Olive whirled about. Her eyes widened in astonishment at the sight of the human woman who stepped from the shadows.
"Nice burro," the woman whispered, taking a cautious step toward Olive with her hand out for the burro to sniff.
The woman's bright hair hung freely about her shoulders like burnished copper wire. She was dressed in a shimmering, flowing robe smeared all about the hem with muck, and the cloth slippers on her feet were equally grimed. Ordinarily, Olive's first thought would have been that the slippers must have made the smaller footprints going up to the crypt, but it was the woman's face that held her attention and excited her.
She has Alias's face! Olive thought while her heart raced. She's another copy of Alias!
"Don't fret, little one," the woman said soothingly. "I put him to sleep with magic. We'll just get his key before he wakes up, and we'll be out of here in no time."
Ordinarily, Olive might have found the offer irresistible, but the woman set Olive's nerves on edge and brought to the halfling's mind Cassana, the sadistic, vain sorceress in whose image Alias had been created. Cassana had often addressed the halfling as "little one" in the same condescending tone and had put her into a magical sleep. There's nothing to guarantee, Olive realized, that just because she looks like Alias, she isn't as evil as that witch, Cassana, had been.
Then, of course, there was Giogi to consider. She couldn't leave the nobleman in the foul place, unprotected while he slept, prey to stirges and gods knew what else. Even if he lived to awaken, he wouldn't be able to escape unless he found his Cousin Steele. She had to stay with him, and she had to protect his key. Olive positioned herself fully between the woman and Giogi, bracing her legs against possible assault.
"My, but aren't you fierce," the woman said with a nervous laugh—not as cruel a laugh as Cassana's had been, but taunting enough to get Olive's blood boiling. "I will have that key," the sorceress growled, reaching down and picking up a fist-sized rock.
The halfling burro charged. The load on her back pitched and threw off her balance. The human woman sidestepped her with remarkable ease. Burdened by the weight of all Giogi's equipment. Olive hit a wall before she could skid to a halt.
As Olive turned around, she saw the woman kneeling over Giogi's prone body, reaching for the key chain about his neck.
As it had earlier when the stirge attacked, the finder's stone light flared again. It filled the corridor with a radiant brilliance centered on Giogi. The woman fell back with an anguished cry. Olive rushed to Giogi's side and nipped at his arms and legs.
"Not now, Thomas," the nobleman muttered, rolling over on his side. "I'm having the nicest dream."
No time for subtlety, the halfling realized. She turned and gave him a sharp kick in his rear end.
"I'm awake, Aunt Dorath! Really!" Giogi exclaimed, sitting up suddenly. He looked around in confusion at the burro hovering impatiently over him and the strange woman whimpering on her knees a few feet away. He rose shakily to his feet, still clutching the finder's stone.
Giogi bent over the woman and touched her shoulder gently. "Are you all right?" he asked.
"Of course I'm not all right," she snapped, squinting up at him with watery eyes. "Your damn light-rock nearly blinded me."
"You!" Giogi gasped, instantly recognizing the woman's resemblance to Alias of Westgate. "No," he said after a moment, "you're not Alias. Your hair's all wrong."
"Would you turn that dratted light down?" the woman growled, shielding her eyes with an outstretched hand.
"Urn, I'm not sure I know how," Giogi said, examining the finder's stone with confusion. "If you just give your eyes a minute to adjust, I'm sure they'll get used to it."
"I've cast a spell so I could see in this dark pit," the woman snapped. "Any light is annoying."
"Oh." Giogi tucked the stone in his cloak and allowed just a little light to peek out. "You can't be Cassana of Westgate, either," he mused. "You're too young. She's dead, anyway. Just who are you?"
"I'm Cat of Ordulin," she said, lowering her hand from her eyes. "I'm sorry my age and my eyes and my hair don't suit you," she continued, her tone dripping with sarcasm, "but you might at least thank me for saving your life from a stirge." She held out her hand imperiously, expecting assistance to stand.
Giogi helped her to her feet. "I didn't intend any insult," he said. "It's rather nice hair, and your eyes look fine now that you've stopped squinting, and, of course, it's none of my business how old you are. Really, though, you do have the most remarkable resemblance to Alias of Westgate. Is she a relative of yours? Or Cassana of Westgate?"
"I've never heard of either of them," Cat declared.
"Oh." Giogi tilted his head in puzzlement. Cat had the same green eyes, pert nose, shapely mouth, high cheekbones, and pointed chin as Alias. It was strange enough that two apparently unrelated women should have the exact same beautiful face. It was just incredible that he should meet both of them. Finally, remembering his manners, Giogi said, "Well, thank you for rescuing me. Funny, though, I don't remember any stirge."
"Stirge saliva numbs the flesh around the bite," Cat explained. "If you don't notice the prick when it attaches to vou, it can drain all your blood without you feeling a thing. It had drained nearly all the life from you. I only brought you back to consciousness with a potion. It was an especially powerful potion, so you shouldn't be feeling any weakness."
"You're right. I don't feel weak," Giogi said with surprise. "Thank you again."
"You're welcome," Cat said, her tone softening pleasantly. She smiled at Giogi.
Olive tried to sneer, but it wasn't in the burro's repertoire. She didn't know which annoyed her more, the female mage's bald-faced lies about rescuing Giogi or Giogi's gullibility.
"Really, though," Giogi said, "I must ask what you're doing here."
Good thinking, Giogi, Olive thought. A little slow, but good thinking.
Cat's manner became suddenly formal. "I don't know that it's any of your business," she replied haughtily. "Who are you, anyway?"
Giogi drew himself to his full height. While his gaunt frame was not very imposing, he did tower a good six inches over the woman. "I am Giogioni Wyvernspur," he declared, bowing slightly as he spoke, "of the Wyvernspurs of Immersea. These catacombs lie beneath my family's crypt. They're our catacombs."
"Do you have a deed for them?" Cat asked coolly.
"Well, no, but the only way into them is through our family crypt and—"
"And the secret, magical door, just outside the graveyard, that opens once every fifty years," Cat concluded impatiently. "I used that secret door to get in here. I was going to use it to get out, but some idiot blocked it while I was still inside the catacombs. I've been stuck here for days."
"Uncle Drone just sealed that door yesterday morning, so you can't have been in here for that long," Giogi objected.
"All right. I've been stuck here for hours," Cat amended her story with annoyance. "I'm starving just the same. You wouldn't happen to have brought food, would you?"
Giogi stared at Cat with considerable perplexity as he reached inside the picnic basket and produced a cheese sandwich.
"Wonderful," Cat said, snatching it out of Giogi's hand. She unwrapped it halfway, sniffed at it once, shrugged, and took a large bite.
Olive stared at the nobleman in amazement. Don't you realize she's got to be the thief who stole the spur? Olive berated Giogi mentally. How can you stand there calmly feeding her cheese sandwiches? "I don't understand," Giogi said. "Uncle Drone said I wouldn't find the thief or the spur down here."
Olive huffed, wishing she could tell Giogi, Shake this woman down for the spur and turn her over to Lord Sudacar. Uncle Drone's made a mistake.
Cat held up her finger, chewed faster, and swallowed. Then she said with a grin, "Your uncle was right. You didn't find the thief or the spur."
"What are you doing in the catacombs if you aren't the thief?" Giogi demanded.
Cat took another large bite, chewed, and swallowed before answering. "Wishing I were the thief. You see, my master sent me here after the spur, but when I got up to your stupid family crypt, the thing was gone. Someone else took it. The door from the crypt to the upper mausoleum was locked, so I had to come back through the catacombs, and, like I said, some idiot—that'd be your uncle—blocked the stupid door to the outside."
"He's not my uncle, really," Giogi said. "He's, well, he was my grandfather's cousin, so that makes him my first cousin twice removed. We all call him uncle, though, because he's so very old." The young noble frowned suddenly. "You have a lot of nerve, you know, admitting you came to steal my family's most precious heirloom, and then insulting my relatives to boot."
"Well, I didn't steal your heirloom, now did I?" Cat pointed out defensively. "And if your uncle knew the thief with the spur wasn't in the catacombs, it was pretty idiotic to seal me up in here, wasn't it?" she asked before popping the remainder of the sandwich in her mouth.
"Uncle Drone is a sweet, gentle old man," Giogi declared with indignation.
"If you say so," Cat mumbled with her mouth still full. When she'd managed to swallow, she asked, "Do you have anything to wash this sandwich down?"
"There's tea," Giogi offered. He began reaching into the picnic basket for the tea jug but stopped short upon noting the disgusted look on Cat's face.
"Would you prefer water?" the nobleman asked. "Haven't you got anything stronger?" the sorceress asked with a sly grin.
Feeling rather odd, Giogi drew a silver hip flask from his back pocket and held it out. He'd never offered hard liquor to a woman before. "It's Rivengut," he warned. "Quite strong. Would you like me to water it down for you?"
Cat took the flask, unscrewed the lid, and took a long swallow. "No, thank you," she said with a cheerful smile. "It's just right."
Giogi blinked twice in astonishment, then he shook himself mentally. "Why did your master send you after the spur?" he asked.
Cat shrugged. "I have no idea. I just follow his orders. One doesn't ask men like Flattery to explain themselves. It's a good way to get oneself killed."
"But you could have been killed, anyway. The catacombs are full of dangerous creatures, and the guardian is supposed to slay anyone in the crypt who isn't a Wyvernspur. Did you really go into the crypt?"
"How else could I know the spur was missing? I never saw hide nor hair of any guardian. Are you sure your guardian's not a myth your family uses to frighten would-be thieves?"
Giogi shook his head. "She's not," he insisted. "If she didn't kill you, that must mean you're a Wyvernspur. We've always suspected there were missing members. What branch of the family are you from?"
"I'm a mage, not a family historian," Cat said with a sniff. You're too proud to admit that you don't know, aren't you, girl? Olive thought slyly. You think you're an orphan, just like Alias and Jade. Somehow, though, the guardian must have realized that you're connected to the Nameless Bard, who is a Wyvernspur.
"If your master, this Flattery person," Giogi said, "told you that the guardian wouldn't bother you, then he must have known you were a Wyvernspur."
Cat's brow furrowed with some thought. She looked down at her hands, as if to examine them for proof. "You could be right," she admitted softly.
Giogi lifted the mage's chin so that her eyes met his own. "Why do you serve him if he sends you out to steal for him?"
