It only took a few seconds for the flutterstoat to reach the windowsill, and he landed daintily and tucked his wings by his side. He pressed his tiny hands to the glass and leaned closeas he peered inside. Then he pulled back, turned and shook his head.
Vaskel’s shoulders sagged. Marina wasn’t there, which meant that Thrain was somewhere else in the castle looking for her. It also meant he now had no way of knowing when to eat his cookie. Their plan was slipping through his fingers more and more each second.
“Check the other windows,” he hissed. “Maybe she’s in another room.”
Crumpet dutifully flew to each window on the second level of the castle, peeking through the glass and shaking his head every time. Finally, he glided back down and landed softly on Vaskel’s shoulder, patting the hellkin on the head.
“It’s not your fault, Crump.” Vaskel reached up and rubbed the little guy’s head. “I was so sure Marina would be in her room.”
“She’s not.”
The voice came from below him, just like the moan had, and it made his blood turn to ice. He now knew exactly where it was coming from because he knew precisely who it was.
Vaskel hadn’t heard the raspy voice in a long time, but he’d never forget the voice of the mage who’d been corrupted by dark magic and tried to kill him. The mage was locked in the castle dungeon. The mage who apparently knew about Marina.
Forty-Four
Vaskel squatted,quickly finding the narrow opening in the stone wall that sat at ground level. The faintest flicker of light crept from it, and Vaskel knew he was seeing the glow of a dungeon torch.
A hoarse laugh echoed from below. “You can’t hide from me, Vaskel. The scent of brimstone gives you away.”
The hellkin cursed under his breath. Every fiber of his being told him to walk away. Nothing good could come of seeing Malek. But how did Malek know about Marina?
“What do you want?” Vaskel asked.
“To help you, of course.”
Malek sounded so much like the mage he’d crewed with that the world seemed to shift under Vaskel’s feet, rushing him back to the days of planning quests together and sharing meals over campfires. He curled his hands into fists, letting his fingernails bite into his flesh.
Malek wasn’t that mage anymore. He hadn’t been since dark magic had consumed him. He’d been a stranger since he’d tried to kill his friends.
“Like you helped Pirrin?” Rage trembled Vaskel’s voice.
There was a sharp inhalation. “I thought you wanted to know where the female hellkin is, but if I’m mistaken?—”
“How do you know her?” Vaskel snapped.
Another laugh crackled through the cold air. “She’s clever—and persuasive.” Then Malek’s voice changed. “But as far as hellkins go, I prefer you.”
Now Vaskel laughed, the sound mirthless and brittle.
“I’d much rather talk face to face.” Malek’s voice grew distant, as if he were walking away from the high dungeon vent. “Come see me and I’ll tell you everything you want to know—where you can find Marina and Cali.”
Vaskel’s heart lurched, and he swallowed a growl begging for release. He’d be a fool to fall for Malek’s tricks, but how did Malek know about Marina and that Cali was with her? So far, there was no word from Thrain, and he wasn’t even sure where Erindil had gone. As far as he knew, they were both at the mercy of Marina and her hellkin crew.
Without another word and without giving himself any more time to talk himself out of it, Vaskel backed away. He picked his way through the murky undergrowth, his boots squelching as the icy mud sucked them down, until he reached the castle gates.
There was no sign of Erindil or Thrain, and dread slithered down his spine even as he squared his shoulders.
Vaskel reached up and pulled Crumpet from his shoulder. “Your job is done here, little friend. It’s time for you to fly home.”
The flutterstoat gave a defiant shake of his head, even folding his tiny arms across his chest.
Vaskel’s throat was thick as he stared into the creature’s luminous black eyes. “I don’t know what will happen in there, and I can’t promise you’ll be safe.”
Crumpet curled his paws into wee fists and raised his arms as if preparing for a fight. Vaskel pressed his lips together, not sure if he would laugh or weep.
“Your bravery is unmatched, my friend, but I need you to go back to the tavern. I need you to tell Lira there’s trouble.” He wasn’t sure how much Lira truly understood the animal’s chatter, but it was worth a try. “Tell her it’s Malek.”
