The Draykon Series (1-3)

Chapter Twelve

   When Eva arrived at Vale's office, she found Tren waiting.

   'Mr. Warvel,' she said coolly, wondering what he was doing there.

   'Lady Glostrum.' He looked up, smiling. 'What brings you here?'

   'I was going to ask you the same. Surely you aren't...?'

   'Aren't what?'

   'Did Lord Angstrun send you? For Vale's job?'

   'No,' he said slowly. 'I come here every moonrise to admire the view.' He looked at the cluttered office, covered with Vale's maps and papers.

   'Oh,' she said, feeling suddenly very weary. She sat down in Vale's chair, surveying Tren as he stood near the doorway. Youthful: that was the primary impression she gathered of him. Young, and with an air of optimism that suggested a lack of experience. 'You'd better be here because you're his best.'

   'I am,' he said. 'Thank you.'

   She lifted her brows. 'At... what was it? Twenty-three?'

   'Twenty-five. How old were you when they made you High Summoner?'

   'Older than that.'

   'Not by very much.'

   Eva sat back, huddling into her coat. 'If you read the papers, you'll know that I was the beneficiary of some revolting elitism and probably a dash of nepotism as well. What's your excuse?'

   Tren laughed. 'Or you were the best candidate for the job. It depends on the point of view.'

   'Oh?' She surveyed him, trying to read his expression. 'To which interpretation do you subscribe?'

   'I haven't decided yet.'

   The door opened, revealing Chief Investigator Vale with an armful of papers. He looked startled to find his office occupied.

   'Am I late, or are you two peculiarly eager?'

   Tren checked his watch. 'The latter, it appears.'

   Vale looked at Tren. 'No sign of Fin, I suppose?'

   'Not yet.'

   Vale dropped his papers on the desk. The stack landed with a thud that shook the furniture. Eva lifted an ironic brow at him.

   'I need three secretaries to keep on top of all of this,' Vale grinned. He picked up Eva's hand, his smile fading. 'There's talk of more activity from the Lowers. More gates, more beasts. I suppose it's no use asking you to reconsider?'

   'None whatsoever.

   He sighed. 'I didn't think so.'

   'We won't be gone long, Eyde, and I don't anticipate encountering anything that Tren and I will not be able to deal with.'

   He eyed her sceptically. 'You don't, hm?'

   She smiled encouragingly, trying to impart some of her own sense of confidence to him. He grunted and looked away.

  'Here,' he said, handing her a freshly-printed daily newspaper. The headline read: Missing sorcerer suspected of Night Cloak crime. A picture of Edwae Geslin was printed below: a young man with dishevelled hair, rather plain features and a hesitant smile. The overall impression Eva received was one of mildness, even blandness. She frowned.

   'He doesn't look like the type.'

   'He isn't.' Tren took the paper from her, reading it with a gathering frown.