He picked the pillar off the floor, and laid the velvet cloth over it. Then he retrieved the finder's stone.
"When will I see you again?" the guardian asked.
Giogi shivered, but it would be rude to say she scared him to death and he didn't like coming into the crypt. "I don't know," he said. "Why?"
"I'll miss you."
"You will? Do you get lonely down here?"
"Sometimes. Not often."
"Why do you stay?"
"This is where my bones are buried. Beside the bones of those I love—my mate, and all your ancestors who took his form, from Paton to Cole."
"Oh," Giogi said, thinking how strange it must be to love so many people dead for so many years. "I'll be back when I'm finished with what I have to do," he promised, "unless I die"
"You'll be back in that case, too," the guardian said solemnly.
Giogi's eyes roamed over the blocks of stone sealing in his ancestors. "You're right. Well, until whichever."
"Until whichever," the guardian agreed.
"Thank you for the advice."
"You're welcome, my Giogioni." The guardian's shadow faded from the walls and left him alone.
For the first time ever, Giogi left the crypt without a feeling of terror.
Outside, the sun was getting low in the sky. Giogi slipped the finder's stone in his boot beside the spur. He untied Daisyeye, slid her reins off her head, and tucked them into one of her saddlebags. "Go home, girl," he said, slapping her on her backside. The mare took off down the hill without looking back.
Giogi watched her race away for a minute. He closed his eyes and imagined a deer springing through the forest. The sensation of pounding blood overwhelmed him more quickly this time. He beat the air with his wings and ran through the graveyard.
A gust of chill wind caught under the leathery canopies and lifted him over the trees. He flapped the wings faster and propelled himself over the edge of the graveyard hillside, catching an updraft. He soared over the valley. In less than a minute, he was circling over Spring Hill. He could make out Mother Lleddew far below, beside the rented carriage full of provisions for Uncle Drone's memorial service.
He resisted the temptation to fly over Redstone. There was no sense in disturbing Aunt Dorath. Besides, he wasn't sure how well he would land, and he knew it wasn't something he should try after dark. He was also growing very hungry. With any luck, Giogi thought, Thomas is roasting a slab of venison or a side of pork. He banked eastward toward the townhouse, his shadow flying far ahead of him and his stomach growling all the way.
*****
Olive stood propped up against the closet wall like a walking stick. "Are you sure you don't want me to tie her up, sir?" the treacherous Thomas had asked the wizard before closing the door and leaving the halfling in the pitch dark.
Flattery had said it wasn't necessary. After that, Thomas had excused himself so he could get started on cleaning out the bedroom fireplaces.
For the longest time there was no sound in the attic but that of the wizard turning pages in a book. Finally, an interminable twenty minutes later, the wizard's spell faded and Olive could move again. She collapsed to the floor. Her legs and arms were all pins and needles from having been stuck in the same position so long. She stumbled against a box on the floor and banged her shin.
"Keep it down in there, Ruskettle," the wizard ordered, "or I shall turn you into a newt."
Only a newt? Olive thought. Is he serious?
Not wanting to find out, Olive kept silent. Very quietly, she began working on the closet lock.
"Put the lockpicks away, Ruskettle," the wizard ordered in a calm, distracted voice, "or I'll firetrap the door."
Olive slipped the picks back into her pocket. He's watching me through the walls, she thought.
Why doesn't Flattery just kill me? she wondered. If Thomas is his agent, then he must know I've been plotting against him. Perhaps he doesn't consider me a serious enough threat. Well, I'll show him. The halfling sat quietly on the floor, thinking of ways to warn the young noble. Tapping coded messages on support beams was supposed to be good. Tying messages to mice had worked in some stories. Neither support beams nor mice seemed to be in ready supply, though.
The stairs creaked, and Thomas returned. "He's gone to speak to the guardian, sir, fifteen minutes ago," the servant reported.
"Excellent," the wizard said. "And Cat?"
"She's offered to return Lord Frefford's horse to Redstone for me. I would imagine she wants another crack at the lab."
"Resourceful girl."
Thomas began collecting the tea things. Olive took advantage of the clattering noise to renew her attack on the closet door lock. The click of the lock was covered by the rattle of the silver tea pot on the tray.
Thomas went back down the stairs.
Olive opened the door just a crack. The black-and-white spotted cat sat right in front of the door jamb, blocking the door. Olive pulled out her spool of string and wrapped a bit of it up into a ball. She tossed the ball so it rolled away from the cat.
The animal watched it travel across the floor and yawned.
How can you ignore a ball of string? Olive thought at the cat. Haven't you got any self-respect? What kind of cat are you, anyway?
"Mystra's minions," the wizard cursed softly.
Olive heard the spell-caster rise and walk toward the closet. He pushed the closet door shut. "Thank you, Spot. Good kitty."
Of course, Olive chided herself, that kind of cat. A wizard's familiar.
"Mistress Ruskettle," Flattery said through the door, "I have tried to be a polite host, but you have tried my patience once too often. Incendiary. There, now I've firetrapped the door."
The wizard's footsteps stomped away. Olive heard him flipping through pages of another book. She sat in the back corner of the closet and fumed. Then she began testing the floorboards. They were nailed solidly. She pulled out her dagger and began working on digging the nails out of the wood.
Olive had just worked out her first nail when she heard Thomas climbing the attic stairs again.
"I think you'll want to see this, sir," the servant said.
"What?"
"At the window."
The wizard stood and pushed open a window. "It's Giogi! He's flying! He's circling overhead. Quickly! The other window!"
Olive heard the two men scurry across the attic and push open a second window. "Mystra's minions," the wizard chuckled. "I'll bet he doesn't know how to land."
Giogi! Olive thought. I have to warn him! I can signal him from the window. She scraped furiously at a second nail.
This will never do. Olive pictured Giogi flying by, with Flattery pointing at him, waiting for the right moment to reduce him to dust.
I have to risk the firetrap! she decided recklessly. With her body pressed against the wall, Olive reached out, turned the handle, and pushed!
The door swung outward silently.
He lied! Olive thought, indignant. She slipped out the door. The wizard and the servant were looking out a southern window, closer to the stairs than she was. Olive dashed for the north side of the attic. She scrambled up to the window sill and slid out onto the roof.
Behind her she heard Spot hiss.
"Thomas! The halfling! Grab her!" the wizard shouted. Olive crawled away from the window, deliberately ripping up half a shingle as she went. When Thomas poked his head out the window, the halfling whipped the curved piece of wood at the servant's temple. Before falling back into the attic, Thomas said a word Olive bet he'd never said in Giogi's parlor.
Olive began climbing to the roof's peak. The wizard hung out the window and shouted up to her, "Come back here this instant before you get yourself killed!"
Olive looked up in the sky. A red wyvern circled the house. Wyverns are supposed to be brown and gray, Olive thought. Leave it to Giogi to turn into a red one. The halfling stood and waved in the beast's direction. "Giogi! Help! Flattery's trapped me up here!" she shouted in the chill air.
"Would you stop shouting that!" the wizard in the window hollered. "I am not Flattery!"
Olive looked down at the window. There couldn't possibly be any more Wyvernspurs I don't know about, could there? "If you're not Flattery," she shouted back, "who are you?"
"I'm Drone."
"Drone is dead."
"If I were dead, wouldn't I be buried in the crypt?" the wizard insisted.
"They're holding the memorial service tonight," Olive said.
"They are. Did Dorath fork out a big spread for it?" he asked with interest.
"Giogi!" Olive shouted again, waving more frantically. The wizard was not going to fool her with any more lies.
"See here, Ruskettle," the wizard called out, "I am Drone. You just don't recognize me because I shaved yesterday."
"Aha. I've never met you," Olive said. "You didn't know that. Giogi! Giogi! Help!" she screamed again, waving her dagger.
"You haven't? No, I suppose you haven't. I forgot. I felt like I knew you. Jade talked so much about you."
Olive looked down at the wizard so quickly that she lost her footing and slid three feet down the roof. "What do you mean Jade talked about me?" she demanded.
"She told me all about you. When she was staying here last week. I like to know about my daughter's friends."
"Your—" Olive regained her balance and stomped her foot angrily. "That's a lie. Jade hasn't got any parents."
"I know. That's why I adopted her," the wizard said.
"You what?"
"I adopted her. We had a little ceremony with a cleric of Mystra. I gave her a silver spoon, a pearl necklace, a yard of lace, all that symbolic rot, and she gave me a pipe, even though I don't smoke—Dorath would never allow it."
"Why?" Olive asked.
"She doesn't like the way it smells. Don't suppose I do, either, but Elminster does it. Don't see why I shouldn't be allowed to, too."
"Not that," Olive snapped, coming down a few more feet toward the wizard. "Why did you adopt Jade?"
"Oh, that. Well, she seemed like a nice girl, and I needed a daughter to steal the spur from the crypt before Steele stole it."
Olive glared at the wizard in confusion. Come to think about it, he looks awfully old to be Flattery. He looks even older than Nameless, for that matter. His hair is all splotched with gray, and his face is awfully wrinkled. His appearance could be an illusion, though.
"That's the same reason Flattery made Cat marry him," Olive noted aloud.
"Cat married Flattery? Oh, that's not good. He's not a nice person. Won't make her an adequate husband at all."
Olive shivered in the cold and watched Giogi soar on an up-draft. She didn't really believe Flattery could imitate a doddering old man so well, but she couldn't risk falling into his clutches unless she was absolutely positive. "I've got it!" she cried. She pulled out the letter with the royal seal, which she'd swiped from Drone's lab that morning. "I'll believe you're Drone if you can tell me what this letter says."
"What letter?"
"This letter I got from Drone's lab this morning. It's dated midsummer, thirteen-oh-six. Year of the Temples."
"That's almost thirty years ago," the wizard whined. "How am I supposed to remember a letter that old?"
"Only twenty-seven years," Olive said, "and it's a very important letter. It's from King Rhigaerd."
"Rhigaerd, Azoun's father?"
"That's the one."
"What would Rhigaerd want back then?" the wizard muttered to himself. "Oh! Yes! It's about the spur. Let's see. Rhigaerd said he understood that Dorath wasn't interested in using the spur, but he wanted to know if there wasn't someone else in the family who would give it a go. That's why I told Cole all about it, even though Dorath told me not to. A royal request outweighs a cousin's orders after all, even a cousin like Dorath."
"All right. You're one for one. Here, in the second paragraph, Rhigaerd writes, 'I don't think your colleague has ever gotten over' something. What is it?" Olive demanded, feeling her toes going blue on the chill roof tiles.
"Never gotten over? Never gotten over Dorath's refusal."
"Who'd she turn down?" Olive asked.
"The letter doesn't say."
"Tell me anyway," the halfling insisted.
"Vangerdahast," the old man snapped.
"Really?" Olive asked. "Old Vangy? Azoun's court wizard?"
"Really," the wizard said grimly. "Now, you little pest, would you come down so I can fireball you without setting Giogi's roof on fire?"
*****
This landing thing could be tricky, Giogi thought as he circled around his townhouse for the fifth time. He was circling closer each time, looking for a clear spot in the garden, when he noticed Olive Ruskettle on the roof, waving at him. He couldn't imagine what the halfling would be doing on his roof, nor could he hear what she was shouting, but it was clear to him that the roof was a very dangerous place for her to be.
Just as Olive began climbing back toward the window, Giogi swooped down, as silent as an owl. The halfling was just beside the window dormer when the Wyvernspur wyvern snatched her up in his talons and swooped away from the roof.
Olive's screech could be heard down at the Five Fine Fish. The sensation of the roof dropping away from her feet, combined with the icy wind slamming into her face, took all the pleasure out of her bird's-eye view of Immersea at sunset. What does he think he's doing? Olive wondered. My fragile body can't take these reckless stunts!
