Faerie Lord

Twenty-Five

It was worth it! He could actually feel the spell membrane break beneath his hand, but there was no mind-bending whatsoever. In fact he was experiencing exceptional clarity and some increased energy despite the pains throughout his body. His fingers fiddled with the catch, the locks gave way, the window swung back silently and Brimstone’s house lay open before him.

Chalkhill climbed through, vowing to lose a little weight. He closed the window carefully, triggered the coatings that left it opaque from the outside, then snapped a light cone.

He was in a nicely proportioned room – these old houses all had nice proportions – but one that was completely empty of furniture or fittings. Brimstone clearly wasn’t making full use of the big house. Which wasn’t surprising. He always lived frugally. Probably just moved himself into three or four rooms. Except that begged the question of why he needed a big house in the first place, even if it was old and probably cheap.

Chalkhill started to creep forward so he wouldn’t make the floorboards creak, then remembered he was alone in the house and strode out of the room.

He was in the main hallway by the front door, which was devoid of furniture as well. There were several doors leading off it. Chalkhill opened two at random. They led to empty, unfurnished rooms. Two more… two more empty rooms. In minutes he’d covered the ground floor. All the rooms were empty. There was a kitchen without pots or pans or any cooking equipment whatsoever – the place smelled of dust and looked as if it hadn’t been used for more than a century. Strange…

Brimstone had to be living upstairs. Maybe he’d set himself up a bed-sit. Maybe he used spells for cooking some men did when they didn’t really care about the taste – or maybe he just ate out all the time as he seemed to be doing tonight.

Chalkhill climbed the stairs, his footsteps echoing on the bare floorboards. He reached a landing where a half-open door revealed a bathroom, but that looked as little used as the downstairs kitchen. He went up another flight to the bedroom wing. Chamber after chamber was empty, not so much as a mattress on the floor, not so much as a tattered blanket in a cupboard. The whole place was absolutely, totally deserted. What was going on here?

His light spell was beginning to dim, so he cracked another and leaned against a wall to think. This was definitely the house where the cabby claimed to have taken Brimstone. More to the point, this was the house Chalkhill had seen Brimstone leave at dusk. He had to be living here, yet there was no sign of human habitation whatsoever.

Which meant Chalkhill had missed something.

He went back downstairs and double-checked the rooms. All empty, like that stupid kitchen. He was double-checking the kitchen when a small sound behind him caused him to spin round, heart suddenly pumping. There was a familiar figure silhouetted in the doorway.

‘What kept you?’ Brimstone asked him sourly.