Twenty Nine: A Key

Harkenn had finally agreed to get rid of the Unspoken killer's body in the crypt, on the condition that she took one more look at it. He didn't accompany her to do so, and it soon became apparent, as Nova descended the steps, both why he had finally conceded and why he hadn't come with her.

The decomposition process, once it had started, was both rapid and eye-wateringly foul. She had never seen any natural body rot so quickly, but supposed nothing about it was natural. The guard who brought her down escaped up the steps again with a groan of relief, leaving her in the cold, stinking murk on her own.

"I'm not touching that," she muttered, staring at the slab. She circled it instead, peering at it from all angles, trying to puzzle out its sudden and startling rot. If she had thought it was possible, she might have thought it engineered, someone trying to get rid of evidence; but the body had lain down here for weeks without interference, and surely they would not have left it here if that had been the case. There was one way in and out of the crypt, and it was guarded at all times. The Devils might have had a few successful runs at breaking and entering into the castle itself, but sneaking out with silverware was a different prospect to sneaking out with a decomposing corpse.

Unless it wasn't the only way in or out...but she knew it was. She had spent weeks down here in her first days as a slave, trying to find her way out. She had checked every wall for loose stones or hidden doorways, got lost countless times, and been to the darkest corners she could find. She hadn't found so much as an old scaffolding hole.

She looked at the body again, little more than discoloured meat and bones wrapped in a black cloak. Swallowing again the bread and cheese she'd eaten earlier in the day she peeled back the cloak, exposing sinewy shoulders and strings of sagging muscle fibre. She paused to retch, staggered several feet away to find a patch of air that wasn't heavy with death, then gulped some in and held it before trying again.

There were no more clues than before, even with the cloak peeled away, but as she made to replace it, a glint caught her eye. She might have thought it the sheen of the slab beneath but for the nature of the light; she had been left a single candle, and even the most polished stone surface wouldn't wink that brightly with such dim illumination. Through a gap in the flesh that hung between the cadaver's hip bones she saw a shimmer of metal.

It was a key.

She almost wept. Countless inspections of this awful thing, and she had only found something because it had gone foul. She didn't even feel particularly triumphant, only exhausted – a key was just a key unless one knew what it opened.

She inspected the scrollwork pattern at the head of the object. If it had been in the pelvis, then the thing must have swallowed it, must have been able to open its lips just enough to do so through the stitches that held them shut. It looked like a new key under the grime slicked onto it.

For the first time since Harkenn had first ordered her to carry out this job, she ascended the steps before the guard had to come and get her. He looked as stunned as she felt when she tapped on his shoulder. The smell and the darkness pressed at her back like a third presence and she was eager to get away; something of it must have shown her gaze because the man seemed to wilt under it.

"His Lordship didn't expect you to be done so soon," he said, clearly trying not to stammer, and it took all her effort not to laugh in his face. For a trained soldier wearing armour, frightened of a skinny slave girl who was chained up, half-starved and wingless, it was a poor show. "He's gone out on an errand."

Nova stared at him, and then shrugged. "Then you can tell him I found something when he gets back. He'll summon me the second he walks through the door anyway."

"He will," a deep voice said, and she turned to find the captain of the guard coming towards them. He was dressed in full armour today, and he seemed unimpressed by his stammering subordinate. "Send her to the kitchens if he hasn't given specific instructions to do otherwise."

"Right. Er. To the kitchens, then."

Nova caught the captain's eye and saw a glimmer of amusement in his aura. "Yes, sir."

She wandered off with exaggerated slowness, but sped up when she reached the servants' passage. It was rare she got time to herself during the day, and the soldier hadn't specified what kind of errand the lord was on or how long he would take, so she wasn't keen to waste it. The kitchens were quiet; the lord had not held any dinners for a long time, so the serving staff had been drafted into cleaning and errands, and only the cooks and potboys remained, with fewer than usual even of them. Nova's heart sank a little when she found Grace absent, but told herself it wasn't a big deal. She'd probably only get a handful of minutes anyway.

She went to her habitual spot by the hearth, muscles relaxing in the heat after the dank chill of the crypt. She cleaned the key in a bucket of old washing water under the laundry lines and lay it on the flagstones to dry, then stole a chip of lye from the kitchen basin and washed her own hands free of gore. The smell had stuck in her nostrils, a faint whiff of something grim colouring the edges of the wood-smoke and baking bread scent of the kitchens. She didn't think she'd be fully rid of it until Faellian allowed her to bathe.

She inspected her find again, shuffling around so her feet lay close to the fire and savouring the prickle of returning sensation. It was an archaic design, but a new key – the metal was too polished for it to be anything else. Yet she had only seen a design like this for keys to the oldest of buildings; temple keys that the heads of house carried, or the ring of keys for castle doors that Brillan had always kept on him.

If it was a castle key, it would certainly explain a few things.

"I thought you were doing your secret job today," Grace's voice spoke behind her, just before a huge basket of washing landed at her elbow. The girl was red-faced and sweaty. "I know, I'm a state. Jan had me stripping all the beds in barracks." She wrinkled her nose. "Really drew the short straw on that one."

"I was," Nova said. "I finished early."

Grace dug around in the basket and drew out a sheet, holding it out so Nova could see. "Look at that. Look at that. That's piss, Nova. And people ask me why I'm a lesbian."

"What's a lesbian?" Nova frowned. She'd never heard the word before in her life. It sounded quite fancy and official for a castle maid.

"A woman who prefers women. Sexually, I mean. For relationships." Grace frowned back. "Why, what do you call it?"

"We say 'I prefer women'." Nova shrugged. "Otherworld things are strange."

The whole idea was baffling. Back in Caelum, people had relationships with whoever they chose; it had never occurred to her that in some worlds that was not the norm.

Grace laughed. "I wish my world did see it the way you do. Oh God, there's more piss, what's the matter with people?"

"Do you want me to answer that question?" Nova muttered. "We'll be here all day."

Grace went off to find a bucket for washing the sheets, still muttering her displeasure. Nova watched her go, turning the key over in her hands. If she hadn't already had to announce that she'd found something to the soldier, she might have been tempted to secret away the key in the wall alcove where she kept her meagre savings. She hadn't added to it in a long time, and it might have been an amusement to figure out what it opened.

It had been that or subject herself to more time in the crypt with the body, and she knew she would done the same thing given the choice again. She was relieved to see the back of it.

Grace returned before Harkenn did, but Nova was careful to look neutral and disinterested just in case a guard did come to fetch her. They'd been playing with fire for weeks; Harkenn's distraction with the crises in the city meant he'd all but ignored what Nova chose to do in the time she wasn't at his side, but she wasn't naïve enough to believe he'd forgotten his suspicions about her and Grace. The lord had a long memory, and held grudges against those he didn't hold in high esteem like his life depended on it. They'd come too far to get discovered and separated now, and she had thrown too much of her lot into it despite her efforts to keep a safe distance. Grace had become a coping mechanism in a way Nova had once promised herself she'd never indulge, purely because of the pain of losing it.

Fat lot of good that promise had done her.

"Do you get to tell me what this secret job is yet?" Grace asked. She dunked a bedsheet into the steaming water bucket between her knees and began to scrub.

"Not yet," Nova muttered. "Maybe later, if he decides I'm done with it." But Grace's gaze had found the key, which Nova hadn't gathered the wits to hide before she got back. She sighed. She was getting tired of it anyway. As the girl opened her mouth to ask about it, Nova added, "Later. Somewhere more private."

Grace brightened. "You'll tell me?"

"Long as you swear you won't tell anyone else."

She rolled her eyes. "You know I won't. At least I'd hope you know I won't."

Nova pressed her lips together. She had a long past full of people who she'd trusted not to spread certain information, and all of them had let her down. Grace seemed different, but they'd still only known each other for a matter of months. Jeorge had let her down after two years of trust.

Her sister had let her down after a lifetime.

Jeorge Nerahardt was a much less welcome presence who seemed to show up when she was thinking about him. He entered the kitchen preceded by the sound of his walking stick on the flagstones, and spotted her immediately despite her efforts to blend with the wall. Grace scowled into the washing bucket. Nova always felt vindicated when Jeorge and Grace met, since the otherworld girl seemed to find him just as annoying as she did, even without the rocky personal history.

"His Lordship is back," the Angel muttered. "In a foul mood, I might add. Might want to tread carefully." His eyes flicked to Grace.

"I'd thank you to politely fuck off and mind your own," Grace muttered under her breath. Jeorge's brow furrowed. Nova stifled a smile with a fake yawn as she got up.

"Take me away, then," she drawled. "Mr Guardsman, sir."

Behind her, Grace snorted into her lap. Jeorge's furrowed brow grew an accompanying scowl. "There's no need for that. I offer because I assume you'd rather not be guarded. Maybe I won't next time."

"The guards don't talk to me," Nova retorted, stalking past him. His aura, even though she couldn't see it while he was behind her, made his silence distinctly offended. She didn't understand how he expected her to forgive him, or just put what had happened behind her. Nothing he did now changed the fact that she was still a slave, nor would it make her wings grow back.

Harkenn was on his way up the stairs when they reached the foyer, speaking with the captain of the guard. His sweeping gaze caught hers over the edge of the banister and he curtly gestured her to follow. She wove through the throng of attendant guards and staff who had accompanied the lord on his errand or whose job it was to greet him when he returned – thankfully that rarely included her – and went up the stairs behind him. She clutched the key in one hand, rubbing her thumb over the patterns.

Jeorge's foot was healed enough for him to keep annoyingly good pace with her. "You found something?"

"Perhaps," she muttered. "I'll tell you what it is if you tell me what you're up to these days."

She caught the edge of his smile out of the side of her eye as he shook his head. "I'm not losing my wings over something so boring. Besides." He gestured up the stairs at Harkenn's back. "He might let me hear what you have to say anyway."

Nova ground her teeth down on her reply, knowing he was right. Even if it was boring, though, she wanted to know what Harkenn had set him to do. The lord and the Angel didn't trust each other further than they each could spit, so she was curious to know what task Harkenn had coerced Jeorge into carrying out and – more importantly – what exactly he was holding over him.

The study was cold; the fire had burned down to embers. As the lord stepped inside, however, a hidden servant door in the wall opened to admit a panicked-looking maid with an armful of firewood. She greyed at the sight of Harkenn, tensing for a rebuke, but Faellian had already turned his attention to Nova.

"The captain tells me you finally found something."

Nova held out the key as the guard captain closed the study door behind them and the maid fled the room. "It had swallowed this. I only found it because it was in such a state."

"I'm sure you enjoyed the dig." Harkenn took the key, and she suppressed a shudder of revulsion as their fingers brushed. He had always been strangely cool to the touch. If most of the public had had half as much to do with the man as Nova did, the unsettling strangeness of him would not leave him on the seat of power for long.

At least, that was how she fantasised it playing out.

"It had...swallowed this?" Harkenn asked, inspecting the key with a strange look on his face. "Where exactly did you find it?"

"Resting between its hip bones, my lord."

"Night take me. And just as Yddris takes off." He closed a white fist around the key and glared at Nova as if it was her fault Yddris had left, before he said, "Captain, send a carriage for Brillan, please. Also send someone to find Jan and tell her to bring the master key set to me."

The captain clipped his heels together and nodded curtly. "Yes, sir."

"I'm assuming you're bringing me something less ominous." Faellian rounded on Jeorge, who removed a letter from his inner pocket and handed it over. The lord broke the seal and read it quickly, then nodded and shoved it in a desk drawer. "I'll send you back with a reply when I've addressed this."

"Yes, sir." Jeorge ducked into a short bow and took his leave, casting one last curious glance at Nova. She knew he could see her smugness in her aura, the little part of her that was glad he didn't get to see the end of it after all. More leverage to find out what he was supposed to be doing. His mouth pressed into a thin line and he quirked an eyebrow before turning away. Harkenn didn't seem to notice the exchange, holding the key to the light of a candle and turning it over and over with a deep frown on his face.

Jan arrived first, looking slightly perplexed. "You asked for the master set, my lord?"

"I did." Harkenn took them off her and began flicking through them. The dark look hadn't left his face. "Thank you, Jan. Do you happen to know whether any of these have gone missing recently?"

Jan blinked and exchanged a nervous glance with Nova. "No, my lord. At least, not that I know of. I keep them under my pillow at night. If anyone had a mind to steal one they'd have to be very good at it."

She wasn't lying, even though Nova didn't need to check the housekeeper's aura for that. Jan was more loyal than Harkenn deserved.

"And you've counted them recently?"

"Yes, my lord. Same number as they were when I was given them, sir."

"There's one missing."

Jan paled. "M-my lord, I'm certain I..."

"I'm not saying you stole it," Harkenn snapped, after a confirmatory glance at Nova for the truth. "I'm saying it went missing before you were given the set."

"But Brillan wouldn't..."

"I'm not saying that, either. Quiet, woman." Harkenn inspected the discovered key again and sighed. "Best check this opens what I think it does. Return to your duties. Brillan won't get here for a while yet." As Jan turned and hurried away, relief blossoming in her aura, Harkenn turned to Nova. "You're coming. You can tell if there have been recent intruders, yes?"

"Yes, my lord." She thought wistfully of the kitchen fire. She very much wasn't in the mood to be dragged around the castle. She paused, and then added, "As long as they had an aura."

The implication seemed to rattle the lord for a moment, but then he shook himself out and stalked from the room, barking at one of the door guards to take charge of Nova's chain as he went. She allowed herself to be led away, resigned to being involved against her will in whatever happened next. More fool her for believing that the body being removed meant that she was going to be let off.

She followed the lord through the castle with resignation at first, assuming the key was supposed to open a vault or similar. But Harkenn wasn't leading them to the vaults, nor did he take the passages that led to the crypt or the prison block. Instead they circled around the east wing, around the building's perimeter, until they reached the courtyard that lay in the centre. Nova had rarely been into it – since that constituted 'outside', and Elandriel forbid she step into open air without supervision – but even looking around it she was struggling to see anything of note in it. Certainly nothing that would have any use for a key.

Harkenn strode to the back wall of the courtyard. All around the garden there were alcoves with stone benches set into the castle walls, except for the back wall, which contained a shortcut to the other side of the castle and a blank stretch of dark stone. The lord ignored the entrance to the west wing and instead began hunting along the solid wall for something.

Nova shared a slightly bemused look with her guard, though he tried to stifle it quickly. She smirked as she turned away. Ever since she'd as good as taken over Brillan's post, the guard had been more wary of her than usual, and while some aspects were tiring, she would be lying if she said it wasn't a nice change from outright fear or dismissal. At least they had to talk to her now.

A grinding noise drew her attention back. She blinked.

There was a door in the wall.

Harkenn stood in front of an open door which had previously been indistinguishable from the wall around it. He tossed the key in one hand, staring down the pitch-black passage and looking deeply unhappy. He beckoned Nova forward without looking at her, and she checked for aura all around the door, the passage entrance, and a few feet into the tunnel. It turned out the passage didn't run straight ahead but turned sharply downwards in a steep set of stairs. It smelled of dust and cold stone, and the stale air of hundreds of undisturbed years.

"What's down there?" she asked reflexively, and then tensed, expecting a blow to the back of the head for impertinence. Harkenn, however, seemed too distracted or too worried to bother dealing out a punishment.

"History," he muttered. "Very dangerous history. And someone else has a key."