Shock rippled through Venn. “That’s him.” Fates, he’d actually come. He hadn’t just abandoned his children. “Do you have a record of him leaving?”
“I’m not sure.” The record master rose. “If you’ll excuse me a short moment.” He walked briskly from the room, and Venn found it hard to not follow him.
He glanced toward the open book, and slowly rose. He crossed to the desk, eyes scanning over the inked names and dates . . . There. David Holm. He had arrived weeks ago, but that was the only thing it said. There were no notes about his family.
How had the record keeper known about them, then?
Unease swirled in his gut.
He heard footsteps, and hurried back to his chair, sitting just as the record master returned with two other men. Both were largely built, and Venn noted the swords hanging at their hips.
The record master smiled, though it didn’t seem to fit his sharp face. “Good news! I’ve just learned that David Holm was reunited with his family this morning.”
Venn stood slowly, his pulse quickening. “That’s impossible. I was with them this morning.”
“Well, the happy reunion must have happened after you left. You’ve been spending the day in the square, haven’t you?” The record master didn’t wait for an answer, just gestured to the two guards. “These men helped oversee the reunion.”
One of the guards nodded. “It was a touching scene.” He tugged a small purse from his belt and passed it toward Venn. “The woman—Vera Holm—asked me to give you the payment along with her thanks for your help.”
Every nerve in Venn’s body screamed. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his hands around the man’s neck and demand answers. But another voice—somehow stronger—cried for him to play along. He took the bag, feeling the weight of it. “She was most generous.”
The guard said nothing, but the record master was still smiling. “You’ll be on your way, then?”
“I suppose so. I’ll just need to collect my things.”
“Wonderful,” the record master said. “I do love a happy ending. Goodbye, Venn Grannard.”
Venn’s fingers tightened around the coin purse as he walked away. The guards watched him; their eyes dug into his back, but he refused to look.
He pushed out of the tent, squinting in the sudden light. He strode into the square, stepping around the milling people and representatives as he headed straight for Zander.
Lord Fellnor stood. “How did it go?”
“They’re a bunch of liars,” Venn said under his breath, his pulse beating too fast. “I need to get to Vera.Now.”
The tent was deserted. The packs were gone, and there was no sign of Vera or the children.
Venn’s hands fisted, rage making him shake. “They took them. I don’t know why, or where—but the record master took them.”
Fates, he should have known. The moment the guard said her name, he should have realized it hadn’t just been found in a log—it had been taken from her.
They had her.
His chest ached, and his breathing was fast and tight.
Zander was frowning. “They left the horse. They must not have been sure if it was yours or not. And your pack is still here. They probably figured it was yours by the clothing in it.”
Venn twisted around, facing him. “Did I do this? By asking for David Holm, did I—?”
“No,” Zander interrupted. “This wouldn’t have happened in the time you asked for an appointment. There was something else at work here. They were taken before you mentioned the name.”
“Why would they take them? What do they gain?”
Zander’s frown was deep. “I don’t know. But the ease in which they did it makes me think this has happened before.”
Venn strode for the tent door, but Zander grabbed his arm. “What are you going to do?”
Venn seethed. “I’m going to put a blade to that record master’s throat until he tells me where Vera is.”
