Chapter 11

With respect and food,the deadly beast is won.

~ Ranger Saruk

Instead of walking through the keep, Kaylina and Frayvar followed the taybarri through the courtyard and around the outside. Along the way, she expected to find Vlerion leaning against the wall with a stern expression on his face. But Crenoch ambled to the door between the kitchen and the well room, and there was no sign of his rider. The hinges on the rusty back gate stuck, so Kaylina wasn’t surprised that it stood open and had allowed the taybarri to enter that way.

Their furred visitor butted the door with his nose, then looked expectantly at her.

“Are you sure that’s Crenoch?” she murmured.

“No,” Frayvar said.

The taybarri let out three whuffs like laughs, then butted the door with his snout again.

“But I think it is,” Frayvar added.

The long-bodied furry creature was too tall and broad to enter the keep, but Kaylina risked stepping closer and gesturing that she would open the door. Crenoch wanted something inside. The rations they’d nibbled during the day? Frayvar’s apples? That might be it.

The taybarri sniffed Kaylina when she got close, and she hoped he wasn’t thinking of having her for dinner.

“I’m going to open the door for you.” She pointed at it, but she also stood still to let Crenoch sniff her. His large nostrils created enough of a draft to stir her hair. “Are taybarri carnivorous?” she asked her brother.

“Omnivores, I think.” He’d stopped by the gate. To watch for rangers? Or so he could flee easily if she angered the taybarri, and he shifted into battle mode?

“So fruits, vegetables, and humans are all in equal danger from those teeth?”

At the moment, Crenoch”s fangs weren’t visible, but she’d seen them and remembered their length and sharpness.

“I don’t know enough about their eating habits to rank their favorite foods.”

Crenoch finished sniffing her and butted the door again.

“Right.” Kaylina pushed it open and stepped back.

The taybarri padded forward, sticking his long neck through, much as he had when they’d first met. It had been a window that time, and he’d been interested in her pack.

With a jolt, she realized it was on a counter near the door. There was honey in it, as well as a couple of her favorite books. The thought of the taybarri shredding the pages to satisfy his sweet tooth filled her with alarm.

She lifted a hand but hesitated to touch his furry shoulder without Vlerion along to make sure his mount behaved.

Crenoch withdrew his head, fangs now visible because they were clamped around her pack.

“That’s mine, friend,” Kaylina said.

The taybarri backed up, his broad tail stirring pebbles and bits of broken mortar on the ground. He dropped the pack but only so he could sniff it thoroughly. His broad tongue slid out between his fangs to prod it.

“Is there honey in there?” Frayvar asked.

“Yes. And books.”

“I doubt he came for your romance novels.”

“I wouldn’t think an animal with fangs would want honey either. And they’re romantic adventures, not romances. There’s swashbuckling. And pirates.”

“Yes, the literary value is immense.”

Kaylina shot him the dirty look that comment deserved while the taybarri continued to prod, trying to figure out how to open the flap. “It’s got to be the honey. You think he’s like the bears that swim across the strait to raid Grandpa’s beehives?”

“Probably. A lot of animals like honey, fangs or not. High-calorie foods are rare in nature, so they’re a prize.”

“Ranks higher than humans and vegetables, huh?” Kaylina risked creeping to the backpack, whispering that she would get some honey out for the taybarri. As if he understood, Crenoch stepped back and waited.

“You don’t need me to tell you that,” Frayvar said. “I’ve seen you feed your bok choy to the hounds while making lover eyes at Grandma’s honey cakes.”

“I tried to feed the bok choy to the hounds. They’re not as keen on vegetables as you’d hope.”

“Tell me about it. My attempts to get them to eat water spinach never went well.”

Since they needed all the honey they had for their mead, Kaylina only withdrew a small piece of comb. She held it out to Crenoch, expecting him to sniff it, but he must have already determined he wanted it, because he didn’t hesitate. Only when the big tongue came out—even larger than a horse’s—with those teeth drawing near her hand did she realize she should have tossed it onto the ground at his feet.

Before she could pull back, the tongue swept across her palm, warm and moist and rough. It removed the honeycomb while leaving enough slobber to make her skin glisten.

She grimaced and wiped her palm while Crenoch smacked his blue lips and ran his tongue over his teeth, not wanting to miss an iota of the honey. He stepped closer and licked her hand again. His brown eyes considered her pack, and she had little doubt he could smell that there was more inside.

“I need the rest for my mead.” Kaylina risked stepping forward and patting him on the neck. “You’re a good taybarri and must want me to become a successful mead maker here in town, right? It’s what your boss wants.” Or what his boss wanted, anyway.

Crenoch”s whuff sounded indifferent to his rider’s wishes, but he didn’t go for the pack again. Instead, he startled her by licking her on the cheek, leaving it as moist as her hand.

“Uhm, thank you.”

His tail swished across the ground again.

“Grandma’s honey-lavender lemon tarts are even better than her honey cakes.” Frayvar didn’t comment on the slobber—maybe he was too busy daydreaming about the food at the Spitting Gull to have noticed. “Is it too soon to feel homesick?”

“No.” Kaylina was about to admit that she’d had such feelings—along with more doubts and regrets than she could name—when Frayvar jumped.

Vlerion strode through the gate in his ranger blacks, his hand wrapped around the hilt of his sword.

“There you are.” Disapproval laced his stern voice.

Kaylina skittered back, dropping her hand, though she didn’t know if the words were for her or the taybarri.

Crenoch swished his tail, looked over his shoulder at his rider, and lolled his tongue out. A laugh? Defiance? Whatever the gesture meant, it had to indicate a lack of concern.

Eyes narrow, Vlerion strode across the courtyard. He barely glanced at Frayvar, who scurried out of his way, before focusing on Crenoch. The taybarri licked his lips again.

Vlerion turned on Kaylina. “You fed him?”

“Not… exactly.” She surreptitiously wiped her hand on her trousers again.

“What exactly did you do?”

Though she felt guilty, since she had given the taybarri the honey, Kaylina didn’t appreciate his tone. She folded her arms over her chest. “Listen, pirate. He came here of his own accord and got my pack out of the kitchen. Also on his own.”

Mostly on his own.

“Do not call me that.” More irritation infused Vlerion’s voice than he’d previously shown. The dangerous glint in his eyes that she’d caught a few times appeared.

Though it rankled, Kaylina attempted a conciliatory tone when she said, “It’s a term of endearment in the south.”

It was at least a common term there.

“It is not. You may call me Ranger Vlerion or Lord Vlerion.”

“Oh, yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Lord Superior and Special. Lording over all us peons.” All right, she was awful at conciliatory.

“It is the appropriate way for a commoner to address an aristocrat. Especially after luring away his mount.” Vlerion flicked an exasperated hand toward the taybarri, jaw clenching, and the dangerous glint in his eyes almost turned into more. She didn’t know what exactly, but did his pupils dilate? Like a cat’s? He took a breath, unclenched his jaw, and said, “We are attempting to keep people from noticing that there is an affiliation between the rangers and this project, and nothing is more rangerish than a taybarri.”

Crenoch whuffed, then blew hot air across Vlerion’s face. Sadly, his hair was too short to be messed up.

After giving the taybarri a sidelong you’re-not-being-properly-respectful-either look, Vlerion dug something out of a pouch fastened to his belt. A flat oval that looked like compressed sawdust. He held it out.

Using his teeth instead of his tongue, Crenoch plucked it up and chewed it. He didn’t lick his lips.

“What’s that?” Kaylina asked.

“We call them protein pellets. They’re desiccated elk and moose muscle meat mixed with liver and brain and held together with suet.”

“Yum.”

Vlerion’s eyes closed to slits. “They’re nutritious, don’t spoil for a long time, and the taybarri like them.”

“They like honey more.”

Crenoch whuffed in agreement.

“Honey isn’t nutritious.” Since Vlerion glared at them equally, Kaylina didn’t know if he was speaking to her or the taybarri. Probably both.

“It goes longer than suet without spoiling,” she said. “It doesn’t ever spoil. Maybe you should use it as the binder in your, ah, protein pellets.”

Crenoch”s second whuff sounded like a cheer.

Vlerion did not look amused.

Frayvar, maybe hoping to distract the ranger from his irritation, grabbed the pack. “I’ll take this inside to protect the rest of the contents from uninvited marauders who were solely and completely responsible for acquiring their own honey.”

Vlerion’s lips twisted, as if he didn’t believe that.

What, did he think Kaylina had spent the day wandering the streets of Port Jirador with honeycomb, looking for a taybarri to suborn?

Vlerion sighed and faced Crenoch, clasping him on either side of his broad snout so their eyes met. “Go back to the stables where the other taybarri are obediently staying without using their magic to pass through fences or unlock the gates. We don’t want to endanger these people—” Without glancing at her, Vlerion pointed toward Kaylina, “—by letting others know they’re associated with the rangers.”

Remembering her promise to the castle that she wasn’t associated with the rangers, Kaylina glanced toward the stone walls. Did the curse extend to the courtyard outside? Could the castle hear spoken words and understand them? She had no idea, but most of the murders it had shown her, all save the one in the forest, had taken place within its walls.

Crenoch let out a soft whuff that might have indicated an acknowledgment, then turned for the exit.

“And don’t come back here,” Vlerion added. “No matter how much honey she plies you with.”

The taybarri’s thick tail swung around, swatting Vlerion in the hip on the way out.

Kaylina wished it had been a swat on the ass, a thought that put a smile on her face. Vlerion turned in time to catch the expression.

She dropped the smile and asked, “You said he can understand us?” to distract him.

“They understand a lot. Crenoch will return to the stables.”

“And not come back here to mooch more honey?”

“If he does come, you will give him nothing.”

“Don’t you think people would be more likely to comply with your dictums if you were nicer about them? Maybe throwing in a please?”

“It is for your sake that I make this dictum. As I pointed out, you may be in danger if people realize you’re working, however loosely, with the rangers.”

“I guess that’s a no, huh?” Kaylina kept herself from pointing out that he was as obviously rangerish as his taybarri, and he remained in her courtyard. At least he wasn’t fondling the hilt of his sword anymore. “Don’t people already know that a lord owns this place? Won’t they assume there’s a link?”

“The aristocracy owns most of the buildings in town. Few will think anything of it, if they even know the Saybrook family claims the castle. It’s been abandoned for many generations.”

A woman following the river trail walked past the gate. Though she wasn’t close—the pedestrians using the street and trail all made a wide berth of the cursed castle—and didn’t glance in their direction, Vlerion put his hood up.

He extended a hand toward the kitchen door. “We’ll go inside. You’ll give me a report of the time you’ve spent here.”

“Oh, goodie. Shall I call you lord after each sentence?”

His jaw tightened again. “At the end will do, when you respectfully express your gratitude that Captain Targon arranged equipment to facilitate this ruse.”

“It’s our dream, not a ruse.”

“A dream you came ill-prepared to pursue in a land much harsher than your sun-soaked south.”

Kaylina scowled, not wanting to admit that she had been naive and hadn’t brought nearly enough money and supplies. If not for her brother, they wouldn’t have been able to lease a chair, much less a building.

Vlerion’s expression was irritatingly knowing, as if he could follow her every thought.

“We do appreciate the equipment,” she made herself say. Grudgingly, she added, “my lord.”

There wasn’t any triumph in his eyes at the honorific. Maybe he simply thought it was his duty to educate her on how to act up here where nobles proliferated like fleas.

He extended his hand toward the doorway again.

“What do you want in my report?” Kaylina led him inside.

“Anything of note.” Vlerion looked around, his brows rising in surprise at who knew what. That they’d cleaned up the place? Maybe he would tell Saybrook’s granddaughter that they were good tenants.

“Such as that the castle moans all the time, weird noises come from under the floor, we see horrible visions, and the stairs leading to the red-light room are gone, and it’s boarded up?”

“Anything of note that I’m not already aware of.” His tone suggested he thought talking to her was a waste of time. His captain, she remembered, was the reason he was involved here.

“How am I supposed to know what you’re aware of?” Kaylina turned, putting her back to a counter as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Have you spent the night here?”

“No. For me, that would be unwise.”

“Because you’re a ranger?”

Did he know about the visions of the murders? Or maybe he knew the history and that those murders had actually happened and were reported in books somewhere.

“Yes.” Vlerion looked her up and down.

It wasn’t a look of sexual perusal—it was more like he sought the answer to some question. Even so, for some reason, she remembered being in his arms in the jail cell, squirming and unable to escape after the ranger captain had drugged her.

“I’m surprised you’ve stayed this long,” he added, his gaze settling on her face.

“Your expression is hard to read. I can’t tell if you’re implying that I’m courageous and admirable for sticking this out or an idiot.”

“No?” A touch of amusement found his eyes. “Good.”

“You’re an ass.”

“My lord,” he corrected.

“You’re an ass, my lord.”

“If you’re that mouthy to a less tolerant noble, you might end up back in jail.”

“And flogged?”

“The law would allow it.”

“It’s a mystery as to why people are rebelling up here.”

His eyes narrowed again, but he didn’t object to the statement.

“As for things of note that you don’t know, the girl who came with the furniture delivery wants me to give her intelligence on the Saybrooks if I learn anything.”

Kaylina felt guilty about mentioning that—would Vlerion want her to describe Milzy so he could locate and arrest her?—but she also didn’t want him to think that being here was a waste of his time. She had worth, damn it.

His eyes sharpened with interest. “Did you tell her anything?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“She hasn’t won my loyalty with her wit and scintillating conversations the way you have.”

He snorted. Well, at least he didn’t accuse her of colluding with the enemy.

“What kind of noises did you hear from below?” Vlerion pointed at the kitchen floor and raised his brows.

“Clanks,” Frayvar said from the dining room where he was scrubbing the flagstones, trying to remove what they were both pretending wasn’t an old bloodstain. “And thumps.”

“You’ve been down to the catacombs?” Vlerion asked.

“No.” Kaylina had no idea how to go down to the catacombs. “There hasn’t been anyone to give us a guided tour.”

“That didn’t keep you from trying to investigate the light.”

“Do you know what makes it?”

Vlerion shook his head. “I only know it’s been there as long as I can remember. Probably since the curse was placed two hundred years ago.”

“What happened two hundred years ago?”

“Seven winters of famine.” Vlerion walked toward the pantry and opened the door.

“Did that… answer my question?”

“I’ll go down to see if the boarded-up tunnel leading this way has been un-boarded again.”

“Okay.” Kaylina hadn’t moved and didn’t intend to, despite now being curious if there was a catacombs entrance in the pantry.

Vlerion looked back and considered her thoughtfully. “Do you want to come along and learn what’s down here?”

“I don’t know. Are the catacombs included in the lease?”

“The root cellar would be.” Vlerion waved toward the floor of the pantry. “The rest, likely not. The catacombs and sewers are owned by the king.”

“What a thing to inherit along with the crown.”

“If criminals areusing this part of the catacombs as a thoroughfare again, and you’ve set up shop in the castle, you might be in danger from them.”

“I’m in danger from a lot,” Kaylina said.

“I’ve noticed. Perhaps your disrespectful tongue is the reason.”

“I’m sure your tongue lands you in a lot of danger too.”

“It is my uniform that does that.” Vlerion gestured for her to join him.

Before, he’d asked if she wanted to come along, but something told her that she didn’t have that much of a choice.

Kaylina caught Frayvar peering into the kitchen and said, “I’ll be back soon. Will you finish arranging the tables and chairs?”

“Oh, sure. You know I love using my prodigious muscles to heft furniture.” Frayvar curled his arm to flex his biceps.

“In exchange, I’ll hold your groceries when you’re ready to shop for provisions for your first meals, and I won’t be snarky and roll my eyes at how long you take to decide between cumin and coriander.”

“No eye rolling at all?”

“Nope.”

“Will you sigh melodramatically?”

“You have to leave me something.”

“All right, deal.”

“If you’re ready.” Vlerion extended a hand toward the pantry floor.

“Yup, I can’t wait. A trip into the catacombs with an uptight ranger sounds like a delightful adventure.” Kaylina grabbed her lantern, her pack, and her sling and joined him in the pantry. “And not at all dangerous.”

“Just watch your tongue.” His look was grave, a warning in his blue eyes.

“With the criminals? Surely, I don’t need to call them lords.”

“No. But don’t talk a lot.”

A sarcastic response came to her lips, but the warning lingering in his eyes kept her from voicing it. A warning and… was that a hint of uncertainty? Like he thought taking her down there would be a bad idea?

Maybe she should stay behind. But she would like to know if danger could pop up from below, especially since she and her brother were sleeping on the floor in the kitchen scant feet from the pantry.

“No problem. I’ve got a romantic adventure novel in case I get bored without your melodious voice in my ear.” Kaylina patted her pack. “It’s good. Love, treachery, swashbuckling, and nobles who aren’t full of themselves.”

Vlerion used his sword to pry up a flagstone to reveal a ladder descending into darkness. “I doubt the catacombs will put you in the mood for romance.”

She doubted it too.