She scanned the people, memorizing them, beginning with the guests on the bench closest to her: Albin at the end, dear Albin in his ancient, threadbare cloak and drawstring poverty shoes, with his worn, expressive face, the deep smile lines in his cheeks, his changeable mouth; then sad Master Robbie, interesting but unknown; just-so Master Uwald, with his arm around Master Robbie’s shoulders; the steward, angry Master Tuomo, whose face had not yet relaxed.
The barber-surgeon moved to loom behind the youngest bee, the ardent young man who’d placed the benches. Why was her expression triumphant?
An empty bench separated the guests from the two full benches of bees. Elodie remembered that the most trusted of them were in pairs searching the inner chambers. She’d have no chance to observe them, although one might be the thief.
She knew the names of only two bees: clumsy Johan-bee and the disagreeable cook, Ludda-bee. Two others she’d noticed before: the oldest bee, and the young bee in front of the barber-surgeon, who resembled a real bee, with a plump middle, a short neck, large dark eyes, and skinny limbs.
The high brunka came to stand between the benches and the fireplace. “Please sit, Mistress Sirka.”
“Why can the girl stand and not me?” asked the barber-surgeon, who now had a name—Sirka—and a voice, hoarse, and deep for a woman.
Elodie prepared to sit on the floor, where she could still see everyone.
“She’s just a lamb.”
Elodie continued to stand.
Mistress Sirka shrugged and inserted herself between the eager young bee and another bee. The crowded bee benches became even more cramped.
Elodie wondered if the high brunka could hear any hearts that might be pounding and identify their owners.
Watch faces and hands, Elodie thought. Emotions declared themselves through them, as every mansioner knew.
Remember to mansion shock, yourself!
Master Tuomo, still angry, said, “I hope there’s a reason—”
“I must . . .” The high brunka’s mouth flattened into a line, no smile. “Oh, my dears, I regret”—she pressed her hands together. The tips of her fingers tinted rainbow colors—“to say, the Replica has been stolen.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Elodie put her hands over her ears as if to block the news. Her eyes met Albin’s, and his were both worried and comforting.
Master Robbie watched her, too. His face was puzzled. He was probably wondering why she was shamming surprise.
Master Tuomo rose. The skin around his lips had paled. “Uwald, we can be on the road within the hour.”
No one can go! Elodie thought.
“Please sit,” High Brunka Marya said.
“My sons!” He remained standing. “I won’t reach them in time as it is. Uwald, we must—”
“Sit.” The high brunka’s soft voice held a note of command.
The steward sat slowly.
His sons are on Zertrum? Elodie thought. He can’t be the thief then.
Watch the bees, she told herself. IT suspects them the most. Keeping her eyes wide, her mouth sad, she turned their way.
The young bee jumped up, sat down, pumped his knees in agitation, his face tragic. Next to him, the barber-surgeon, Mistress Sirka, put a consoling arm around his shoulders. Her face looked untroubled, happy even. He seemed unaware of her.
A female bee put her fist in her mouth. Her eyes filled with tears.
The ancient bee half closed his eyes, although his face was alert.
Ludda-bee snapped, “If Johan could keep to his post, this wouldn’t have happened.”
First to blame. Was she directing attention away from herself? Or did she have a reason for the accusation, beyond the fact that he visited the privy while guarding? Surely everyone did that during a long watch.
The other bees seemed distressed in varying degrees, but neither their expressions nor their hands proclaimed anything definite—or anything Elodie could discern. Perhaps her masteress would already have named the thief if IT were here.
She turned from the bees back to the guests.
The genial expression had drained from Master Uwald’s face. His eyes were squeezed shut. “Oh. Oh.” But then they popped open. With a visible effort he brought his smile back. He stroked the top of Master Robbie’s head and murmured something to him, which Elodie deduced must be an assurance that all would turn out well.
Master Robbie nodded while looking straight ahead. If he had any affection for his guardian, he was keeping the feeling to himself. His sad face was no sadder than it had been, but, of course, he’d already known.
“I’ll stand with you.” Albin put an arm around Elodie’s shoulders and whispered, “How strange that you arrived for this. Is there”—he paused dramatically—“more to be revealed?”
Much more. She whispered back, “All will be told in the final act.”
“No one has left the Oase,” High Brunka Marya continued, “so one of you has the Replica or has hidden it. If you expect to profit from it, expect otherwise. We’ll catch you as a hawk catches a squirrel. Even if you leave Lahnt, we’ll find you and deliver you to the earl.”
The earl, who administered the king’s justice on Lahnt, wasn’t known for his mercy.
“But if the Replica is returned before anyone on Zertrum is hurt, then I won’t seek you out. You’ll have the satisfaction of having stolen it and no one—”
Master Tuomo stepped backward over the bench. “Uwald! We must leave. High Brunka, you know we must.”
Master Uwald stood, too. “Yes, yes. Robbie—”
“Sit, both of you. I’ve sent someone to warn Brunka Arnulf. He’ll raise the alarm.”
Had Count Jonty Um issued the warning by now? Was he on his way back? Elodie looked up at the distant windows to see if they’d lightened with dawn, and choked back a gasp. They had brightened, except one, which was emerald green. Pressed against the window, ITs eye.
Master Uwald sat.
Master Tuomo remained standing. “No one can travel fast enough to reach Zertrum in time.”
“This messenger will.” The high brunka didn’t explain.
Elodie hoped mention of a mysterious messenger would discomfit the thief, and perhaps it had, but everyone appeared equally dazed.
“Sit, Master Tuomo. No one may leave. The rooms of all the guests are being searched right now. Yours, too, Mistress Sirka.”
The barber-surgeon stiffened. “Hair and teeth! They can’t! Not without me looking on!”
“Mistress Sirka, dear lioness, they’re interested in nothing but the Replica.”
What in her belongings did Mistress Sirka want to keep secret? Elodie wished she could be there for the search—and here, too.
“If anything is harmed, I’ll lop off someone’s ear.”
High Brunka Marya seemed unconcerned.
“Who will search the bees’ belongings?” Master Tuomo asked. “You can’t leave anyone out.”
Master Uwald agreed. “The game should be fair.”
Was everything with him a game to bet on, even the destruction of his farm?
“Bees have nothing of their own,” High Brunka Marya said.
“They have their pallets,” Master Robbie said.
Brave, to disagree with the high brunka! Elodie thought.
He went on. “Don’t they sleep on the same one every night? The Replica could be stowed in a mattress. It would fit.”
IT would admire that observation, Elodie thought.
Master Uwald did. “Well done, Robbie!”
Master Robbie’s hand found his mourning beads. Elodie wondered if praise reminded him of his grandmother.
Mistress Sirka chimed in. “They have spare shifts, hose, undershirts, and boots for the snow. The Replica would fit in a boot.”
“The bees are searching in pairs. Mistress Sirka, you may go through the bees’ things with Master Tuomo. Master Uwald, dear, if you would be so kind as to search with Goodman Albin.” She didn’t mention Elodie or
Master Robbie.
Albin bowed at Master Uwald. “At your service.”
“You may begin after we’ve finished talking,” the high brunka said.
Albin said, “Suppose the Replica is found by a person who isn’t the thief. Should he bring it to you? He won’t know where it used to be kept.”
Elodie felt a shiver of fear. Why did Albin think of this? The thief would definitely pretend not to know.
“Bring it to me.”
“Will you believe the finder, High Brunka?” Mistress Sirka asked.
“If no one has been hurt on Zertrum, I won’t care.”
“Will there be a reward?”
“Robbie!” Master Uwald said.
“Your farm may be destroyed. You may be poor,” he said, sounding untroubled. “I may be poor again. There should be a reward.”
Elodie thought he was right. “Everything possible should be done to recover the Replica.”
But High Brunka Marya tightened her lips. “Saving a mountain will be the reward.”
“I’ll give a reward.” Master Tuomo stood again and surveyed the guests and bees. “A hundred silver coins, all my money in the world.”
A fortune. The Replica was worth more, but if the thief preferred not to kill people and beasts, he or she might take the reward instead.
Elodie’s head swam. Was Master Tuomo trying to save his sons—or turning suspicion away from himself?
He added, “If anybody finds the Replica, bring it to High Brunka Marya, and I’ll promise you the reward. Uwald will vouch that my word is good. If you know something, tell me, and if it leads to the Replica, I’ll pay you.”
Master Uwald said, “I’ll pay the reward, Tuomo. I can afford it better than you.”
High Brunka Marya looked up at the ceiling as if she might see Brunka Harald’s ghost floating there. “Thank you both, but the hundred silvers will come from brunkas, and information will be delivered to me.”
“What are we to do after we search the bees’ things? I won’t sit still.”
“Dear Master Tuomo, you may look where you like, so long as you do so in the pairs I named, and so long as you remain in this chamber. And a . . . er . . . personage will arrive soon to speak with each of you, a personage adept at finding lost objects.”
“Who?” Master Tuomo demanded.
White smoke wreathed the entry door.
“The one who brought me to the Oase.” Elodie let pride infuse her voice, although she shouldn’t have, since she hoped to appear dull witted. “Lahnt is lucky. Masteress Meenore is here.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
With the sympathy of a brunka, Brunka Arnulf brought out a meal for Count Jonty Um. The ogre devoured half a wheel of cheese, two loaves of bread, and a bunch of late carrots, and drank two pitchers of cider, dining as quickly as he could while preserving his noble manners. When he finished, although he longed to sleep in a warm place, he shape-shifted into a swift again and flew.
Dawn had just begun.
If His Lordship hadn’t been tired, if his mind hadn’t been sluggish with food, if he had been a bird more often, he would have remembered that dawn was the hunting hour and would have waited before shape-shifting.
As the swift rounded the eastern slope of Zertrum, an arrow pierced his shoulder, and he fell.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“There once was a dragon called Roarer
who filled the people with horror.
Their fear pleased IT mightily,
IT flamed at them frightfully
and caused a boisterous furor.”
Enh enh enh.
No one else laughed. Elodie smiled, while wishing her masteress would stop amusing ITself.
ITs head, shoulders, and forelegs (ITs arms, as Elodie thought of them) inched gingerly into the Oase. “I will not force the matter,” IT said when ITs sides filled the opening.
Everyone but Elodie, Albin, and High Brunka Marya rushed to the opposite wall.
Master Robbie took a few hesitant steps forward, managing to look at once afraid, curious, and hopeful.
High Brunka Marya said, “IT’s going to help us find the Replica. IT’s as clever as a ratcatcher.”
“I am assuredly cleverer than that. Thief, you may confess now and save me the trouble of smoking you out, so to speak.” Enh enh enh.
Elodie scanned the bees and guests. If she had stolen the Replica and had never encountered a dragon before, her knees would have buckled. But everyone remained upright, looking equally terrified.
IT grinned, showing ITs teeth, which were pointy as spikes.
The high brunka said, “IT wishes to speak with some of my bees first. Um . . . Ursa, take the first turn. I expect you—bees and guests—to be frank with IT, as open as children.”
Elodie thought the high brunka didn’t know many children.
“Share everything, even your suspicions, no matter how absurd you think they are.”
Ursa-bee, as it turned out, was the bee Elodie had noticed weeping with her fist in her mouth when the high brunka had announced the theft. She was a woman of middle height, neither thin nor fat, probably in her mid-twenties, with a high forehead, thin nose, and receding chin. Her pale green eyes contrasted with her dark skin. She crept forward, her hands clasped prayerfully.
“Everyone else, in the pairs I named, can help with the search. Give the masteress and Ursa a wide berth for their private conversation. I’ll be watching and listening.” She drew a stool from the pallet corner into the center of the great hall.
While Ursa approached IT with slow steps, Master Robbie grabbed Elodie’s hand. “I’ll show you what else is missing, and what’s still there.”
His hand was gloved, as hers were. How bold of him to take her hand!
“Wait!” She pulled free and tried to catch ITs eye to see if she should go or stay and listen to the interviews, but IT stared fixedly at Ursa-bee. “All right. Show me.”
And, she thought, tell me what you know about everyone.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ITs smoke rose in white spirals. People to frighten, a puzzle to untangle—bliss. Begin with an accusation: “You are from Zertrum, are you not?”
Ursa-bee shook her head so hard her cap trembled.
“From where then?”
She swallowed several times. “From Dew.”
“This Dew is hard upon Zertrum? In the shadow of the volcano?”
“N-no! It’s the north harbor village, Sir—M-Mistress—Masteress.”
“Yes, Masteress. That is the correct appellation. You despise being a bee?”
“No!” Vehemence seemed to give her courage. “Anywhere else I’d be just a maid of all work. Here I dust, mop, help with the laundering, sweep up the old rushes, put down the new, as a maid would, but I also take my turn guarding the Replica.”
“You regard your fellow bees highly?”
She smiled, revealing small and uneven teeth. “Certainly! They’re bees. They want to help Lahnt. Some come from rich families and could have been anything. Dror was offered the choice of soldier or bee, and he chose bee.”
Which might merely mean, IT thought, he preferred not to die. “In the while since Master Robbie arrived, have you guarded the Replica?”
“Three times, Masteress.”
Now to the heart of it. “Did anything out of the ordinary occur?”
She turned to see where the high brunka was, still on her stool, too far away for a human to hear but doubtless an easy listening distance for a brunka. The bee’s fear had come back. “We didn’t t-tell Marya because all seemed well.”
“Tell her what?”
“Yesterday morning, after six, soon after Marya left her bed, late into our watch, Johan went to the garderobe, as he often does before the end of a watch. He’s always very slow there. Everyone teases him, but I rarely do, because he suffers so. When he’d been gone a minute or two, I heard weeping from the next corridor, the most piteous weeping. I tried not to move but I had to look. Sir
. . .”
IT held up a claw.
“Oh. Masteress, I had to see who was crying. The sound was so sad.”
The high brunka’s posture stiffened. She was certainly hearing this confession that the Replica had been left unguarded.
Ursa-bee continued. “I hurried. Then I didn’t find anyone, but the weeping went on and on.”
Mmm.
“I thought the sound came from one of the rooms. It wormed its way into my head until I couldn’t tell if it was in me or out of me, and I started crying, too. I opened door after door and found no one. Finally it died away.”
“And you returned to your post?”
“I waited a few minutes, hoping to find whoever it was.”
“Did you hear footsteps?”
“I couldn’t hear anything over the crying. When it stopped I heard none.”
“Mmm.”
“Johan and I got back at the same time.”
“Were you both coming from the same direction? Had he heard the weeping, too?”
“He said he hadn’t. I came from the east, he from the west.”
IT scratched ITs earhole. “You said all was well?”
“The Replica was still in its place. We made sure of that. If only it hadn’t been!” She twisted the edge of her cloak. “We would have discovered the theft immediately.”
“Describe where it was kept, if you please.”
Ursa-bee looked nervously at the high brunka, who nodded. “It’s in—it was in Marya’s chamber.” She went on to explain.
Very likely, IT thought, that the thief had been in the chamber, under the bed, behind a screen, somewhere! He or she had waited for the two foolish bees to leave and then made off with the prize. How remained to be discovered.
“Have you told anyone?”
“Only you.” She shrugged. “And now Marya.”
“Has Johan-bee?”
“I don’t know, but he doesn’t say much, and he has a toothache. The barber-surgeon changes the medicine every so often. He may have told her.”