Wystwood

35. Tales of petty criminals

The celestial sky painted across the ceiling was lost to Raeph's dark form. He propelled Ada into the wall, her back hitting bare stone and elbows knocking bookcases. Raeph loomed over her, and he was close enough for Ada to see the slivers of pale skin between his shirt collar and cloth mask.

The pounding on the door continued, and Raeph shoved her closer against the wall. Stray strands of raven hair fluttered across her temples, and his hide belt jutted into Ada's waist. Every breath she drew puffed her chest into Raeph's, his body curving over her, sharing a cloak of shadows.

Ada hardly heard Solen hiss up the staircase for Armestrong, her voice muffled behind the bar and a shelf of glass bottles. She had rolled from the bartop in a flurry of braided leather and stained cotton, tugging the bandolier of silver knives down with her. The fist hammered on the door once again, and Solen swore.

Armestrong came running down the serpentine stairwell, her feet sending up shivers of dust as she blustered past the bar. She reached the door, and for a moment, Ada could hear nothing at all. She didn't dare move a muscle, even as Raeph's fingertips dug divots into her left shoulder.

Then, Armestrong drew back a bolt lock with a clang loud enough to peel back the painted stars above, and yanked the door open. A clatter of chains split the air, striking in from the street, and carved up Ada's senses.

"Good evening, madam. Excuse my late intrusion," said a man. He spoke in easy lilts, with a voice of shrewd confidence. But the rattle of heavy chains punctuated his sentences, and each word he spoke grated through a meshing of metal. The Hound continued, "May I step in for a moment?"

Raeph's body stilled, the column of his throat thrust up like a pillar of marble that sliced across Ada's angled vision. His head edged to one side, quivering her hair as he listened to the conversation at the door. 

But he needn't have strained, because Armestrong answered, "No, you most certainly will not. Night has already fallen, and it's been a long while since this pub has been open for guests."

She spoke in an accent more polished than her usual, though her last words were as pointed as a knife's tip. There was another rattle, the Hound shifting as if not used to being refused, before he cleared his throat.

"I can assure you that it will only take a moment," he said, and there was a thud of boots hitting the threshold. "I have information that there has been a sighting of bandits near your home, and while I am sure you would never consider housing such ruffians, there remains the matter that they may be using this building as a refuge without your knowledge."

If Armestrong's words had been a blade, his were soaked in poison. There was a rustle as Armestrong smoothed down her apron and stepped into the doorframe, dropping her courtly accent.

"I have been in my home this entire evening. No one has entered or left. See these here bolts on the frame? I lock my doors just like the rest of this city does," Armestrong said, matching the Hound in tone and temperament. "I would suggest you check your sources, especially on a night hit by the Stone Circle. Speaking of, aren't you Hounds meant to be tracking them down? I'm sure you'll find it far more productive than following tales of petty criminals."

"That I would be, madam, were this case not of substantial value. You see, a fellow of mine detailed this incident directly to me," the Hound replied sharply. "He witnessed two women, one in possession of a flower he believes to have been cast upon. Unfortunately, he cannot be here to give his own account, as he's currently receiving treatment for some rather nasty injuries he sustained."

Every part of Raeph was taut against Ada, a string against her bow, ready to loose if she made the slightest movement. She didn't. Not even as she spied her velvet cloak, tossed across a bar stool, with Min's flower in its pocket. But she scarcely focused on it, the Hound's words echoing through her head as a conflicting sense of relief and horror washed across her skin. Two women. No girl. No child. Min hadn't been reported.