Realms of Mystery

Thieves’ Justice

Spring was coming to Rashemen-eventually. That night, early in the month of Ches, spring’s presence had not yet been detected in the frost-bound capital city of Immilmar. The snow in the streets and on the buildings had been there for months, layer after layer of hard-packed ice, dirt, soot, and frozen debris. The air was still bitterly cold, and icicles hung like prison bars from the eaves of many buildings.

Teza wiped her face and hurriedly pulled her wolf-fur collar up closer to her nose and mouth. Muttering to herself, she left the Guardian Witch Inn behind and marched up the street, paying no attention to her direction or the people around her. The streets were quiet, for most people had already sought the warmth and light of well-lit hearths. The many inns were doing a rollicking business, but most of the shop fronts and the city markets were closed.

The young woman gritted her teeth and stamped into the gathering darkness. Mask take that wizardess, she fumed. It was not fair that the one person in all the East that she considered her best friend had to be so stubbornly honest. Why couldn’t Kanlara look past Teza’s profession to what lay within the horse thief’s heart and mind?

Resentment flared anew in Teza’s thoughts. What right did Kanlara have to tell her what she should not do? Who made her the guardian of Teza’s integrity? Kanlara’s rigidity and her lack of faith in her friend had pricked the horse thief’s hide one time too many.

Teza frowned at the night sky. Last autumn, tolerance had been easy for both of them. At the risk of her own life, Teza had freed Kanlara from a wizard’s spell that had trapped her in the shape of a book for over thirty years. Kanlara, overjoyed at her freedom, had been grateful and ready to embrace the world. Teza took Kanlara to her home and into her life. To the delight of them both, a fast friendship had formed. But in the ensuing months, winter had locked them into constant close proximity and forced them to delay their plans to travel beyond Rashemen’s borders. Little differences blew up into heated arguments, and the subject of Teza’s profession threatened to cause an irreparable rift.

As if on cue Teza’s palms began to itch, a sure sign she had not stolen a good horse in days. Belatedly, she slowed and took her bearings. She was in an area of large workshops and houses just to the east of the center of the city. The grim fortress of the Huhrong’s citadel lay behind her, its iron and steel walls pockmarked with pools of torchlight. Ahead and to the north lay the houses of the wealthier merchants and many of the city’s nobles.

It wasn’t the houses that drew Teza, however. She had tried her hand at burglary and did not like it. She preferred the subtlety of picking pockets or the excitement of horse theft. Even in winter there were places to find crowds with full purses and stables with interesting horses. One of her favorite spots was an inn and livery on the eastern road to Muiptan. It was often frequented by merchants, travelers, and traders, and their many beasts of burden, and it was not always well guarded.

Teza picked up her pace and continued east. The snow crunched under her boots and the biting wind drove in from Lake Ashane, the icy Lake of Tears. She hunched her shoulders against the cold and plowed on, not hearing a faint voice that called behind her.

She passed over a low stone bridge that spanned a small but swift river that still resisted the grip of the freezing wind. Several minutes later she saw the bulk of the Red Stallion Inn hunched back into a thick stand of evergreens. The timbered walls were lit with lanterns and lamplight blazed from every window. Smoke rolled from the inn’s several chimneys and the smell of cooking food wafted into the dark. Teza noted all the activity with satisfaction. The inn was busy this night, which meant there were probably good pickings in the stable.

Niall One Hand ran a fine establishment that included the convenience of large corrals for livestock and beasts of burden and warm stables for the finer mounts of his guests. Teza, not wishing to abuse a good source, only visited Niall’s place rarely to remove a few of the finer steeds from customers who could well afford it. Fortunately, Niall bad no idea who raided his stable, so Teza was able to return the favor sometimes by bringing him stock to sell or passing a good deal his way. She liked Niall’s easy wit and his flexible sense of honesty.

She turned away from the light and warmth and worked her way through the trees toward the stables. As quiet as a snowcat she slipped through the night to the back of the large barn. The building was timber, built on a stone and earth foundation, and it could house twenty horses or thirty ponies in a double row of stalls. A set of double doors opened onto the inn’s courtyard, but there was also a smaller groom’s door that opened from the back into the alley between the stalls. This door was usually kept locked-a fact that rarely bothered Teza-but this night it was also guarded.

Teza hesitated. The presence of the guard was unusual, but the fact that he wore the emblem of the clan family, Vrul, seemed strange. Most of the Vrul lived in Mulptan. Not that it really mattered. The Vrul were well known in Rashemen for their fine taste in horses.

It took the horse thief just a moment to slip back her hood, loosen her long dark braid, and find the small bag she always wore. Within, among the other tools of her trade, were the circles of fabric permeated with a quick-acting sedative. Very useful for unsuspecting guards.

She stumbled out of the trees close to the inn and ambled, in her best drunken fashion, toward the guard by the door. He watched her approach with some amusement.

“Sir, I was looking for the outhouse,” she slurred, stumbling closer. “Do you know where it is?”

He lifted his hand to point, his head turning naturally in that direction, and in that instant Teza leaped forward and pressed the fabric to his nose. He took one gasp and fell like a stricken rothй.

Teza solicitously dragged him into the barn where he would not freeze. As she hoped, the grooms were in the inn and the stable was empty of humans. One by one she began a rapid inspection of the stalls’ inhabitants.

“Teza!” a whispered voice called to her from the door.

Teza and the horse she was patting leaped sideways as one and crashed into the wooden partition. “Kanlara!” Teza snarled. “What are you doing here?”

The wizardess, cloaked and booted, strode forward, her face pinched with cold and annoyance. “I followed you,” she said. “I wanted to apologize, but I couldn’t catch up with you. I had a feeling you were going to do something like this.”

“Of course I am!” Teza stormed out of the stall and into the next where a creamy white mare rolled her eyes nervously. “I told you from the beginning I was a horse thief. It’s what I am.”

“But it’s not what you can be!” Kanlara insisted. “You are intelligent, strong, and beautiful. You could be anything you set your mind to.”

Teza made a rude noise of disbelief. Those words, coming from a woman with exquisitely beautiful features, long red hair, jewel-green eyes, and the advantage of being wizard-trained, did not carry a great deal of weight with an untalented street rat. There were some realities of life Kanlara had never had to face-like starvation and loneliness and poverty.

Teza had learned to be a thief to survive and now it was all she knew. She threw her hands up. “You want me to change. You want us to leave Immilmar. You want a new wizard’s staff and spell components. Well, all of that takes money. How do you propose we get it? You are forbidden to practice magic while you are in the jurisdiction of the Rashemi witches and the only jobs the Rashemaar will give an outlander are menial… they barely pay for our room. So that leaves me.”

She realized her voice was rising with every word, and she quickly lowered it so as not to draw outside interest. “I can’t sew. I hate serving in taverns. I have no learning or talent. I cannot be a witch, and I won’t be a berserker. There is little left for someone like me in Immilmar. How can I make you understand?” She ended her tirade and leaned against the mare, breathing heavily.

“I am trying to understand,” Kanlara replied sadly. “But please stop before something happens to you. I couldn’t bear to lose you. You are the only family I have.”

Something in Kanlara’s tone rang true to Teza. Nonplused, she left the mare’s stall and walked into the next without looking.

To Kanlara, the stall looked empty. But Teza found more than she bargained for. Her foot caught on something solid and heavy on the stall floor, and she stumbled forward into the manger. “By Mask! What is that?” she gasped. She squatted down and pushed the straw off a dark form.

Kanlara hurried in and the two women knelt together in the straw. They carefully rolled the form over onto its back. The strong smell of fresh blood filled their nostrils. Their hands slipped in the warm, dark fluid that covered the man’s neck and chest.

“Oh, gods, he’s been stabbed,” Kanlara cried. “We must get some help. Run to the inn and have someone summon the guards.”

“What?” Teza yanked her hands away and frantically wiped them on cleaner straw. “The guards,” she hissed, appalled at the very suggestion. “Don’t be a fool. We have to get out of here, now!”

Kanlara stiffened. “There’s been a crime committed,” she said firmly. “We have to report it.”

“Like the Abyss we do. One look at us, sneaking around where we don’t belong, blood all over our hands, and they’ll arrest us without a blink.” She grabbed her friend’s arm to pull her to her feet. “Come on!”

Kanlara yanked free. “Don’t be ridiculous, Teza. There is nothing here to tie us to this. We simply found the body.”

“You are so naive. I have lived in the thieves’ world all my life. I know how this will look to the Elders. We must go…now!”

A sudden call outside the door brought Teza to her feet like a panicked horse. “Kanlara,” she begged, “please! He’s a fyrra, a lord. Look at his clothes. We are riffraff to him, and the guards are not well known for their far-reaching intelligence. They will convict us on the spot.”

Footsteps crunched on the snow outside.

“Kanlara, come on!” Teza cried one last time.

The wizardess stood still, staring down at the dead man, then she lifted her eyes to Teza’s. Before either could react, someone pushed open the wide front door. Lanternlight spilled into the stable.

Teza’s will broke. Like a fox bolting for cover she whipped around the stall door and fled silently into the shadows and out the back door. She did not hesitate a step until she was well back into the trees. Belatedly, she slowed. She turned, against all her instincts, and angled toward the road and the front of the inn. Through the trees she could hear the uproar of voices and the blare of a horn as a guard signaled to his captain.

The sounds of authority approaching and the noise of the angry crowd were more than Teza wanted to face. Let Kanlara handle it. She could explain far better than Teza. The guard would question her and let her go. Teza decided to go home and wait. Kanlara would surely be along soon.

But she wasn’t.

By midmorning the next day, Kanlara still had not returned and Teza had paced and worried to the point of nausea. As angry as Kanlara probably was, if she was able, she would have come back by that time.

Just before noon Teza tied her hair into a tight braid, piled it up on her head, and pulled a loose fur hat over the whole thing. She dressed in a pair of men’s pants and boots and strapped a dagger to her side. Her smooth cheeks were dusted with a shadow of charcoal dust and, to finish off her disguise, she added a false mustache carefully crafted from horse hair. It was a disguise she had used successfully before and one few in Immilmar had seen. With luck it would get her safely where she wanted to go.

Teza hurried outdoors and strode just a few short blocks to the communal longhouse. The morning was overcast; the air cold and biting. Quite a few citizens were out on their daily business, and quite a few more were heading in the same direction as Teza, for the daily kohrtar, or charging of criminals, at the loughouse.

The squat longhouse sat on a short hill overlooking one of the main roads leading to the busy docks on the Lake of Tears. It was a large, if rather plain building used by the citizens of Immilmar for all the meetings of the Elders who ran the city, as well as gatherings of various guilds and parties. Every day at noon, or when needed, the Elders held the kohrtar to charge suspects of crimes and to hold trials for those already charged.

Teza knew if Kanlara had been arrested for the murder that she would be brought before the judges this noon. Keeping quiet, Teza mingled with the crowd moving through the open doors. Obviously, word of the murcler had already spread through the city, and curious onlookers were coming to have a look. The young woman squeezed into an open space by the back wall and waited, her heart in her throat.

In just a few minutes a Fang guardsman slammed his sword on his shield to signal the arrival of the Elders. The noisy room fell silent. At the far end of the long room, three Elders practiced in the rudiments of Rashemi law (and law in Rashemen was rather rudimentary), entered and took their seats at a table placed on a dais. A fyrra, wearing the emblem of the Vrul clan stood to one side, his hawk glance fastened intently on the proceedings.

A second Fang guard read the day’s charges from a roll of parchment. Several minor infractions were quickly dealt with by imposing fines or several days in the Iron Lord’s dungeon.

At last the guard announced, “For the murder of the Lord Gireth StoneHamtner of the Vrul Clan we hold the outlander, Kanlara. She was found beside the body with blood on her hands. Although she claims innocence and, as yet, no weapon has been found, the court feels there is enough evidence to try her.”

A shock of guilt and fear jolted through Teza. “This can’t be,” she groaned. But she had predicted it herself.

At the sound of the sword clashing on the iron embossed shield, Kanlara was led in between two more armed guards. Her bright red hair stood out like a lick of flame among the black-haired Rashemaar.

Teza stared at her friend’s face and she felt her hands begin to shake. Kanlara’s beautiful features were slack; her bright gaze dulled. She walked with the stiff, uncaring motions of a lich between her two guards, going where they pushed her, stopping when they pulled her to a halt.

“The sewer scum,” Teza spat. “They’ve put a feeblemind spell on her.”

“Of course,” said the woman beside her. “She’s an outland wizardess. It’s a wonder she’s been allowed to stay here at all. Usually the Witches send other magic-wielders running for the border.”

“Yes, and look what happened-one of our own murdered. There’s good reason for keeping strange wizardesses out of Rashemen,” observed a second bystander.

Teza bit her lip hard to keep back a retort. She did not dare draw any more attention to herself. Instead she left the wall and pushed a little closer to the front where she could see Kanlara better. The wizardess’s face was pale and her dress was torn and stained with blood. Bruises discolored her wrists where guards had tied her hands with too much enthusiasm.

The horse thief thrust her hands into her pockets and clenched her fingers into tight fists. Not once in her ill-begotten life had someone she loved suffered the consequences of her actions. Now, the thought that she might lose her friend because of her own cowardice hurt more than she ever believed possible. If she had only stayed with Kanlara to talk to the guards…

“The charges have been read and entered in the city’s rolls,” intoned an Elder. “Are there any who wish to stand for her at trial?”

Teza’s eyes widened. She had not thought the judges would offer that boon to a foreigner. Usually the right of defense only went to citizens of Rashemen. The crowd around her murmured in surprise. They hadn’t expected that either.

“Oh, by all the gods,” Teza breathed. “What do I do?” Although few people remembered, there was still a longstanding price on her head. If she stood forward to defend Kanlara, she could expose herself and risk imprisonment in the Iron Lord’s dungeon, or worse. The penalty for thievery in Immilmar was often the loss of a hand to the axe. Yet, if she didn’t try to help Kanlara, it was a foregone conclusion that the wizardess would be found guilty and executed for a crime she would never commit.

Teza shivered. Never had she been so torn in two, but never had she had a friend quite like the strong, obstinate, honorable Kanlara.

“I ask one last time,” boomed the judge. “Is there anyone-”

“I will,” Teza cried abruptly. She cringed at the high note her voice hit. She dropped her tone immediately and tried again. “I will stand for the accused.”

A babble of voices broke as people turned to stare.

“And you are?” the judge demanded.

“Tezan, citizen of Immilmar. The accused is my friend.”

“So let it be written. The wizardess will be held for trial in three days’ time. You have until then, young man, to make her defense.”

The sword clashed again and Kanlara was led away. The crowd slowly dispersed and Teza turned on her heel, pushing her way out of the longhouse. There was only one thing she could think to do at this moment. She walked to the nearest tavern, ordered a mug of jhuild, Rashemen’s famous firewine, and downed it all in one long, fiery pull until her throat burned and her eyes watered. The other customers cheered her, astonished at her prodigious feat.

Thus fortified, she set out do the only other thing she could think to do-face the witches in their den. The witches of Rashemen were a powerful and secretive sisterhood that ruled and protected the country. Although the majority made their home in Urling, a contingent kept a longhouse in Immilmar to support the trio of Hathran who in turn supported and advised the Iron Lord. Teza deeply respected and feared the powerful witches. After her encounter with a witch two years before, she usually went out of her way to avoid them. Now, though, she marched to the front entrance of the Witches’ Hall and boldly knocked on the carved wooden door.

The door immediately swung open of its own volition. Teza peered into the dim interior. When she saw nothing, she swallowed hard and walked inside.

A tall, black-robed woman stepped out of the shadows to meet her in the foyer of a long hallway. The witch’s face was covered with a gray mask and her hands were tucked in her long sleeves. She said nothing, but waited for Teza to speak.

The horse thief bowed low and tried to keep her voice smooth and even. “I am sorry to disturb your peace, but there is one here who knows my friend, Kanlara the wizardess. May I speak with her?”

“I am she, Teza,” replied the witch.

Teza’s hand flew to her false mustache. The witch knew her and since she was waiting, she must know what was happening to Kanlara. Without thinking, Teza burst out, “You know Kanlara didn’t do it. She was following me and the man was already dead when we found him. Please, is there anything you can do to help her?”

“There is little we can do. She is an outland speilcaster accused of murder by the city authorities. She must continue through the trial.”

“The trial,” Teza repeated bitterly. “That is a joke. She is already condemned.”

The black figure did not stir. “Unless you prove her innocent.”

“The only way I can do that to the Elders’ satisfaction is to fmd the real killer.”

“Precisely.” The woman raised an elegant hand and beckoned to Teza to follow. “We do believe Kanlara is innocent. We have been keeping a close watch on Lord Gireth for some time, and his enemies are as numerous as the tears in Lake Ashane.”

While she talked, the witch led Teza down a long, empty corridor lined with doors. The hail around them seemed empty and silent, yet Teza knew without a doubt they were being watched by numerous pairs of eyes. She stifled a shudder and tried to pay close attention to her guide.

“While we cannot help Kanlara directly, we can help you solve her problem.” So saying, she pushed open a door and escorted Teza into a dim, windowless room. The only light radiated from a single small fire that burned in a high-legged brazier sitting alone in the room. Just above the flames hovered a nebulous shape that wavered and swayed with the smoke.

“Lord Gireth!” the witch commanded.

Teza gasped. The indistinct form quickly coalesced into the head and sharp features of the dead Rashemen fyrra, and his ghostly face turned toward them.

“We summoned his spirit back to talk to you. He did not see his killer, but perhaps he can give you some clues.”

The young woman looked from the spectral head to the witch and back again, then said, “Lord Gireth, why were you in the barn that night?”

The ghost frowned at the memory. “I was to meet someone. A spy of mine who had information for me.”

“What sort of information?”

“I don’t know. I received a message to meet him outside in the barn. He knew I was staying at that inn.”

“Why did you come to Immilmar?”

The spirit suddenly grinned wickedly. “To betray my brother-in-law. He abused his privileges one time too many.”

“Did he know you were coming?”

“No. No one knew but my spy.”

Teza paused, thinking hard. “Did you see anything before you were… killed?”

“No. I was alone, waiting for Alfric. He is a serving man for my brother-in-law. I did smell something, though.” The ghost gave a hideous chortle. “Even over the horse manure I thought I caught a whiff of the lake.”

Teza nodded once. The witch raised her hands, spoke a strange word, and snuffed out the fire. Lord Gireth’s spirit form vanished from sight.

“Now,” said Teza’s black-robed companion. “There is the matter of your vulnerability. You cannot concentrate on this quest if you are constantly dodging into taverns and racing home to change disguises.”

Teza tore her eyes away from the now dark brazier and frowned. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “That is my problem,” she said.

“True. But we can temporarily relieve you of that difficulty. You only have three days to find the killer.”

“Teza crossed her arms. “How?”

“A disguise no one will penetrate.”

Teza thought she heard a hint of laughter in the witch’s words. Her mental alarms began to clang. “That’s kind, but…“ She got no further.

The witch lifted her palms up and blew a pale, glimmering powder into Teza’s face. Even as the woman chanted her incantation, Teza felt an alien feeling crawl over her. Her skin tingled; her nose lengthened. Her legs and arms shortened so quickly she fell on her side on the cold stone floor. Her clothes sagged on her body. Worst of all, she was assailed by an explosion of sensory stimulation: hundreds of smells she had never experienced, new sounds that filled her sensitive ears. Her vision sharpened in the dark room and lost most of its color. Terrified she closed her eyes and shouted, “Stop!” She heard a dog bark so close it could have been beneath her.

Oh, no, she thought.

“Teza,” a gentle voice said above her. “It’s over now. Stand up.”

Slowly, carefully, Teza opened her eyes and climbed to her feet. All four of them. Too astounded for anger, her rump sagged to the floor and she sat.

“Excellent. This spell will last only three days, so don’t worry. Think of the advantages and put them to use. You will retain your own intelligence, but you will also be able to communicate with other animals and with those creatures, human and otherwise, who are a part of magic. Do you understand?”

Teza growled, “Yes.” She had a hundred other well chosen questions and opinions she wanted to add, but she was too bemused. Besides, her human memory reminded her, to disobey a witch was to ask for immediate death. If this witch thought Teza would be more effective as a dog, then that’s how it would be.

Grumbling to herself, she padded after the witch back to the front entrance. The door stood open.

“Chauntea go with you,” said the witch softly, and she shut the door behind Teza.

For a long while, Teza the dog stood immobile by the hail, her head lowered and her tail tucked between her legs. Of all the stupid, manipulating things to do to someone. At least the witch could have turned her into a horse.

This was all so bewildering. There were too many smells and too many sounds. Her vision was different and her body was aligned in a strange new way. Her perspective had changed, too. As a human she could look many people in the eyes, now all she could see were legs. Thankfully, the witch had made her a large dog, one people would not try to kick or eat or catch.

Just then the breeze wafted a scent toward her that even her dog sense recognized. She lifted her eyes to see a man walking along the road toward her-a young man in a shaggy coat and a jaunty knit hat and a smile that had melted her human heart on many occasions.

“Jereth!” she called as he passed.

The young man heard a woof. He glanced around at her, flashed his grin, and ruffled her shaggy ears. “Good day to you, too, big dog. Out watching the people? Well, maybe you’d better find another door to sit by before those witches turn you into a doorstop.” He patted her again and sauntered away, his boots crunching on the snow.

Teza watched him go, her ears cocked thoughtfully. Perhaps the witch’s spell had merit. If Jereth, a man who knew Teza very well indeed, did not suspect she was anything more than a dog, then no one else would either. Teza’s confusion melted away in the warmth of a growing curiosity. She had always been good at disguises, but this was the best one she’d ever had. This might prove rather interesting.

Hesitantly at first, Teza set out toward the Red Stallion Inn. As the witch pointed out, there were only three days to help Kanlara. So, dog or no dog, Teza decided she had better get busy. To her surprise and pleasure, her mind quickly adapted to the strange new ways of her canine body. Before long she was swinging along at a jaunty trot with her long tail high and her ears flapping. The distance to the inn vanished quickly under her long-legged pace.

The inn lay quietly in its shelter of trees with only a wisp of smoke from the kitchen chimney to show a sign of life. Teza trotted around the back and into the stable through the groom’s door. There were many more empty stalls this afternoon. A few ponies nibbled hay in a pen at one end and one horse dozed in a stall.

Teza inhaled deeply, astonished at the intensity and variety of the smells she could identify. The stall where Lord Gireth had died was all too easy to find by the intense, metallic scent of old blood. The bloodied straw had been removed, but nothing could disguise the smells that had soaked into the earth floor. Teza began a slow and careful search of the stall’s interior.

“New around here?” a husky voice asked. “I hope you’re not planning to stay.”

Startled, Teza looked up to see a large yellow tomcat perched on the wooden wall. “No, no,” she hastened to reassure. How she knew how to communicate with him so easily she never knew, but her speech was a richly varied combination of vocal sounds, body language, and an instinctive enhancement of mental images. It was remarkable, and it just seemed to come with the disguise. “The people think my friend killed this man. I want to find out who really did.” She continued to sniff around under the close scrutiny of the yellow cat.

There were any number of human scents in this stall, including her own and Kanlara’s. She also identified

Lord Gireth’s smell on the floor and on the door of the stall and two others that were quite fresh. “How many people have been in the stable today?” she asked the cat politely.

The torn ignored her as he settled down in the hay of the feed rack.

“Don’t pay attention to that lazy floor rug,” another voice squeaked. A small black rat poked her nose out of a hole under the hay rack. “He is older than this inn and just as set in his ways. If you want to know, ask me. There were three people who came in here last night to remove the body and one more who cleaned it out this morning. That was some excitement. We haven’t seen such goings on since the last midwinter festival.”

Teza lifted her lips in a dogish smile at the rat’s cheerful chatter. “Did you see anyone else before the man died?”

“Oh, certainly. There was the man, the selkie that met him, a guard, a woman who-”

“What?” Teza barked. “A selkie. Are you certain?”

The rat stuck out her whiskers and lifted her nose. “As certain as the darkness. Smell it yourself. She leaned against that wall.”

Teza sniffed and there it was, just as Lord Gireth had said, a whiff of the lake.

In the flick of an eye, the rat disappeared and like an iron fist a hand grabbed Teza’s ruff and hauled her out of the stall. “Here, you cur. Get out!” A man, tall and well dressed, planted a boot viciously into Teza’s side. Pain lanced through her ribs. She yelped. He pulled back his foot to kick her again, but this time her dog instincts took over.

Fast as a weasel she slipped around in her loose skin and sank her teeth in his arm. His scent and the smell of his blood filled her nostrils. A cry of furious pain escaped his lips. Teza wrenched herself free from his grasp. She caught one glimpse of his face before she whirled away and galloped out of the barn to the safety of the trees.

She went just far enough to get out of sight, then she stopped and sat thoughtfully staring at the road through the evergreens. That man had looked familiar. Somewhere she had seen him very recently. Then she had it. He was the lord in the communal longhouse who had watched the kohrtar with such interest. So what was he doing in the stable where Lord Gireth was murdered?

Without realizing what she was doing, Teza’s tongue lolled out and she started panting while her mind ranged over a hundred questions. Particularly, why was a selkie, a freshwater creature of the gentlest nature, in a stable with a murder victim? Why hadn’t Lord Gireth’s shade mentioned her?

Keeping one eye on the inn for the lord with the heavy boot, she searched the road and the paths leading to the inn for some tell-tale hint of the seal woman. The ground was frozen and the snow had been tramped by dozens of humans and animals, but finally, Teza’s keen nose found another trace of that odd watery smell. It lay along a frozen path seldom used that wound through the trees and made its way at an oblique angle to the river and the city.

Others had left their trails behind but here and there, clinging to the frozen ground lay that elusive scent. With the utmost care Teza snuffled down the path until it intersected the road at the low bridge. She trailed onto the bridge, her tail wagging, and came to a stop in the middle. The selkie apparently paused there, for her scent covered a spot on the low stone wall and two delicate feet had scuffed the snow along the edge.

Teza lifted her front paws to the stone wall and peered down at the swiftly flowing river below. What had the Selkie done here? Had she resumed her seal form and fled back into the water? Had she dropped something?

Thoughtfully, Teza went back to her search of the road, and there, beyond the bridge, the selkie’s trail continued. Teza followed it toward Immilmar and the section of the city where the large houses of the wealthy merchants and the lords crowded against the banks of the river. She was nearly among those houses when the road joined a larger thoroughfare and she lost the scent in a bewildering mob of smells from people, ponies, wagons, and other dogs.

She flopped down under a tree to rest and think. Her paws hurt from ice balls that had collected between the pads of her toes, so she gnawed them out while she pondered everything she had learned so far, which, she had to give the witch credit, she would not have discovered as a human. Being a dog had some interesting advantages. In fact, learning this new identity and trying something so different was positively exhilarating.

Twilight crept into the city by the time Teza decided what to do. There was one creature, a resident of Lake Ashane, who just might-for old time’s sake-help her. Her mind made up, she ran easily out of the city and down to the shores of the Lake of Tears to look for the aughisky. Several times she had slipped down to the lake just to see how he fared. She knew his habits and favorite haunts, and she hoped to find him quickly.

Just as she suspected, he was in the second cove she tried. Blacker than night and exquisitely formed, the aughisky was a carnivorous water horse who preyed on human flesh. Teza had once bound him to her with the attraction magic of a hippomane, but early that winter she had freed him. She hoped fervently he would remember her and stay on shore long enough to hear her plea.

The horse stiffened when he saw a tall, shaggy dog trot toward him, then he dropped his glorious head and touched noses. “Oh, it’s you,” he snorted in amusement.

Teza stared up in surprise. “You can talk?”

“To animals. I do not eat them. I smell magic on you. A spell?”

She woofed a yes. “The witches did this to help me. I have to find someone.”

“The witches. Interesting.” He eyed the water’s edge and made a move as if to leave.

“Don’t go,” Teza barked hastily. “Please, I have a favor to ask. For Kanlara.”

The aughisky turned his attention back to her. “Why?”

“She is in trouble. I must find a selkie who is living on land now. Probably close by.”

The aughisky lowered his head. His fiery green eyes peered at her through his long mane. “There is only one I know of. She was taken by a man and lives with him in the city.”

“Do you know who?”

He snorted contempt. “They are all the same to me.”

“I think she may have dropped something off the bridge.”

“And you want me to look for it.”

Teza nodded once. He would either do it or refuse, and all the begging in the world would not sway him.

The aughisky nickered a sound that reminded Teza of laughter. “Wait here,” he said, then plunged into the dark water and was gone.

The cloud cover broke during the night and sunlight streamed over the lake at dawn. Teza crawled from her nest of dead leaves under a tree and stretched deliciously in the clear light. The cold did not seem so biting that morning, and the wind had died to a mere breath. She was about to look for some breakfast when something large and heavy plunged out of the lake. She whirled around, hoping it was not a water troll, and saw the aughisky prance out of the water carrying something in his mouth. He dropped his trophy at her feet.

Teza took a long look and a longer sniff and barked her gratitude. The soggy, cold things lying in the snow still reeked of Gireth’s blood despite their immersion in the river. One was a dagger shoved askew into a beautifully tooled leather sheath; the other was a lady’s coin bag that had been badly stained and thrown away. Embroidered in the fine fabric was the emblem of the Vrul clan. Teza grinned wolfishly.

“Now I know where to look,” she told the aughisky. “Thank you.”

The water horse bobbed his head. “You can thank me by helping the selkie if you can. She did not ask to be taken from her family.”

Teza nodded and watched the black horse return to his watery home. Full of excitement, she headed back to Immilmar where she carefully hid the dagger and the bag in a place she often used for her stolen goods. Everything was falling into place. Perhaps, with a little luck, she would find the selkie, learn the truth, and have Kanlara out of that prison by nightfall.

Ears high and tail waving, she ran along the road to the houses by the river and soon came to a stop before a wall of stone that surrounded a large house. Above the gate hung the same emblem she had seen on the lady’s bag.

A voice suddenly shouted in the courtyard. Its harsh tones sent a chill of fear through the dog. It was the same man who had driven her out of the stable the day before. On swift feet she bolted around the wall to the back of the house.

Luck was with her twice that day, for as she came around to the rear of the residence, she saw an open postern gate in the wall. She was about to turn into it when she noticed a path that led down a grassy slope to the banks of the river. Teza slowed her gait to check the path for people. The path was empty, but there was one person sitting on a dock that extended into the river.

Teza ducked behind a shrub to study the silent form. It seemed to be a slender woman, and a crazy woman at that, for she was sitting on the edge dangling her feet in the frigid water. Teza’s ears came up. There was only one creature that slim and lovely who could do something like that with impunity.

Keeping an ear perked toward the house, she walked quietly down to the dock and sat beside the woman. All of her doubt disappeared. The scent was the same and the appearance was correct for a selkie down to the pale green hair and the enchanting green eyes. The woman slanted a startled glance at the strange dog who just sat down with her, then she threw her arms around Teza’s neck and burst into tears. Teza did not move.

“I hate him,” the selkie sobbed. “I hate him! Why won’t he just let me go?”

“Because he covets you?” Teza guessed.

The selkie let go as if stung. “You’re not a real dog,” she said. “I see now… you’re ensorceled. Who are you?”

“I am a friend of the woman who was charged for the murder of Lord Gireth.”

“I’m sorry,” the selkie said bitterly. “That was not planned. But Lord Rath found her capture very convenient.”

“She didn’t do it.”

“I know.” Tears streamed down her lovely face and she leaned into Teza’s warm, furry sides. “Lord Rath ordered his death because Lord Gireth was going to expose him to your huhrong. His own kin! Rath is a brute!”

“Can’t you leave him?”

“He holds my seal skin.” The selkie let her breath out in a sigh of total misery. “I even know where it is now, but I can’t get to it.”

Teza remained silent. She understood the selkie’s fear-she had felt a small part of Rath’s brutality herself. But just sitting out on a cold, damp dock was not going to free Kanlara. She had to find convincing proof of Kanlara’s innocence-without convicting herself, if possible. At this point, only the selkie seemed to have the truth Teza needed.

“How about a trade?” the dog suggested. “I will get your skin for you, if you will come to my friend’s trial and tell the Elders what you know.”

The selkie’s expression was transformed by a radiant hope. “Agreed. Let’s go now. Rath was leaving to meet the huhrong. He should be gone by now, and most of his men with him.” She drew her feet out of the water and slipped them into her shoes.

Teza observed with interest that the selkie’s feet were delicately shaped and webbed between each toe. When she rose to her full height, the selkie was not as tall as Teza used to be, but her form was as slender as a lake reed and fully proportioned in breast and hip. It was little wonder human males desired the voluptuous seal maidens.

Silently, the two walked up the slope to the postern in the surrounding wall. The selkie slipped through, gestured to Teza, then led her to the house. Teza stared wide-eyed at the edifice.

It was huge, by Rashemi standards: a two-story stone and timber building set over a deep undercroft. A narrow wooden stair led up to the single back door. The windows, set in the thick walls, were mere arrow-slits. The house gave Teza the impression of being both a fortress and a prison. Little wonder the selkie hated it.

The two entered into a long, shadowed hail that extended the width of the house. The selkie led Teza to a staircase and paused at the first step. “He keeps my skin in a chest in his room on the second floor,” she whispered. “Go right. Second door.”

“Are there any locks or guards or spells on it?”

The selkie nodded reluctantly. “There is one thing he uses to guard the skin. Salt.”

“Salt?” repeated Teza skeptically. “What kind of a deterrent is that?”

“I am a freshwater selkie,” the seal-woman explained. “Salt burns us like acid.”

“Why couldn’t one of the house servants get it for you?”

“They are terrified of him.”

Teza waited no longer but flew up the stairs on silent paws. Following directions, she found the room and drew open the bar on the door with her teeth. The chest was easy to find, being the only one in a large and very sparse room. It sat against the wall near a bed. Teza trotted over, her toenails clicking softly on the bare wood floor. Opening the big rectangular box proved difficult because there was a latch that defied canine teeth and claws. Finally, though, she worked it open, and rising to her hind legs, she thrust her head into the chest and began to pull out clothes and personal items right and left. She made no effort to be careful or circumspect. There wasn’t time, and she felt an ever-increasing sense of urgency. At last, near the bottom, she scented the strong odor of salt. A package wrapped in salted leather lay at the very bottom of chest.

Teza snatched the bundle and ran. She scooted out into the hall just in time to hear the selkie cry a warning. “He’s coming! Hurry!” Out in the courtyard sounded the shouted voice of Lord Rath. Booted feet pounded on the stairs outside. Teza scrabbled to the top of the stairs, tore open the salty leather, and heaved the velvety soft skin of the selkie over the banister.

It fell directly into the selkie’s arms.

At that instant the front door slammed open and Lord Rath strode in. His haughty glance caught sight of the selkie clasping the seal skin in her arms, and he roared with rage. Faster than a bird, the selkie whirled on her toes and raced for the back door and the path leading to the river.

“After her, you scum!” he bellowed to his men. He and all his guards charged after the fleeing seal-woman. Teza watched them go from the cover of the second floor balcony. As soon as it seemed clear, she bolted down the stairs and ran for the front door. It was then that her luck ran out.

An armed guard stepped into the doorway just as she reached it. “Hey, you mutt,” he shouted at her. “What are you doing in the house?” He adroitly grabbed the scruff of her neck and brought her to a scrabbling halt by his leg. She growled and snapped at his hand, but this man had experience with dogs. He cuffed her hard, then dragged her down the stairs to the courtyard. She struggled to get away from him. A second ringing blow to her head nearly knocked her off her feet, and in that moment of weakness, the guard hauled her to the kennels, threw her unceremoniously inside, and slammed shut the gate. Teza collapsed on the straw, her mind reeling.

Three other dogs in the kennel with her withdrew to their own places and left her in peace. Teza was glad. Her ribs ached, her head pounded, and her hopes were crushed. She was trapped in a pen as stout as a prison and her one witness was beyond her reach. She had hoped to escort the selkie out of Lord Rath’s reach and bring her to the longhouse for the trial. Now the selkie was gone. If she escaped to the river, she would never dare return to the city for fear of Lord Rath. And if Rath caught her now, he would surely imprison her in the house for her attempted escape.

Teza whined. Tomorrow was Kanlara’s trial. Tomorrow she needed to present evidence to the Elders to prove Kanlara’s innocence. Yet nothing she had was tangible, and who would take the word of a wanted horse thief in the shape of a dog?

She lifted her muzzle to the sky. “By all the gods,” she howled, “if Kanlara is freed, I swear I will try to find honest work. Something new. Something she and I both can accept. If I can be a dog, by Mask, I can be anything to keep my friend.”

“Shut up, you stupid dog!” bellowed one of the grooms.

Teza climbed slowly to her feet and sat by the gate. A few minutes later Lord Rath returned, roaring like an enraged bull. Teza snorted to herself. The selkie had obviously escaped. At least she had the satisfaction of that. Thankfully, Rath was too busy taking his fury out on his men to notice a strange dog in his kennel. She turned her back on the uproar in the courtyard, curled up in the straw, and went to sleep.

She was more exhausted than she thought, for not even the arrival of the dogs’ dinner that evening roused her from her deep sleep. When she finally awakened, it was dawn. Early dawn, thankfully. She opened her eyes and discovered that the witch’s spell had worn off. She was human again, miserably cold and without a scrap of clothing to cover her. The dogs lay in their corner and eyed her askance.

“Good dogs,” she whispered. As quietly as she could, she slipped the latch on the kennel and eased out. The main gate was closed and there were guards standing nearby, but in the early morning gloom, no one saw the young woman slip into several outbuildings by the wall. Soon, a shuffling figure in an old skirt and heavy coat came out and made her way around the back of the house. She found the postern gate, picked the lock, and vanished into the awakening city.

A short time later, a young woman walked to the front gate of Lord Rath’s house and presented a letter for the fyrra to the guards there.

Teza smiled at them winningly, and they in turn were quite willing to oblige. She handed them her carefully penned missive, winked at them both, and walked away, swinging her hips like a tavern girl. Kanlara had spent the winter teaching her to read and write, and this letter she had written to Lord Rath made every difficult hour she had spent struggling to learn her letters worthwhile. If Rath fell for her threat of blackmail and came to the place she suggested to meet, the selkie would not have to worry about him again.

Just to ensure that the trap would be waiting, she hurried down to the lake to find the aughisky. He was still by the shore, still hoping for a meal. Winter was a difficult time for the waterhorse, and Teza hoped his hunger would make him linger.

Although she could no longer understand him, he still seemed to know what she was saying. When she explained her plan, his eyes lit with a greedy, green glow. Satisfied, Teza fetched the dagger and the purse out of their hiding place and went back to the room in the Guardian Witch. There was only a short time left until the trial and she needed every minute of it to resume her identity as a young man and to try to plan what she would say to the judges. There was nothing left but her own truth.

The communal longhouse was crowded when she reached it, and Teza had to push her way to the front where she could wait for the judges to appear. They soon came, accompanied by the Fang guards and Kanlara. The feeblemind spell had been removed so Kanlara could hear the evidence against her and tell her own side, but her hands were firmly tied and a witch stood guard beside her to prevent any sorcery.

The Elders quickly silenced the crowd and the trial commenced. In Immilmar tradition, the evidence against the accused was presented first, and even Teza had to admit it sounded damning. The Elders called for Tezan to stand forth in Kanlara’s behalf.

The wizardess stared at her friend, her eyes pleading, begging Teza not to say anything that would condemn the horse thief to imprisonment and amputation.

Teza would not look at her. She stood before the three men and drew a deep breath. “Most revered sirs,” she began. “I have known from the beginning that Kanlara was innocent of this charge of murder because I-”

“Because I did it,” a voice called from the back.

The onlookers erupted in an uproar of excitement and curiosity. A path opened through the crowd and a Rashemi witch and a figure in a voluminous cloak walked forward to meet the judges. People bowed in respect to the witch and stared in open curiosity at the slender woman accompanying her. The two walked to Teza’s side and stopped before the judges.

The figure in the cloak threw back her hood to reveal the green hair and lovely face of the selkie. She gave Teza a beaming smile of gratitude. “Lord Rath is dead,” she whispered. “He fell for your bait. The aughisky came for me as soon as he finished with the man.” Her eyes sparkled like gems. “I went to your friend the witch as quickly as I could. She has promised me protection for my information.”

“Your friend, the witch.” Teza liked those words. She lifted her gaze to the enigmatic mask of the black-robed witch and nodded her thanks.

“Young woman,” boomed a judged. “Are you the one who just confessed to killing Lord Gireth?”

The selkie turned to the men at the table. “Yes. My captor, Lord Rath, forced me to kill Gireth in the stable at the Red Stallion Inn. Lord Gireth had learned through his servant that his brother-in-law was about to betray him to the huhrong over a small matter of smuggling and bribery. He despised Gireth, but not enough to dirty his own hands with the crime, so he threatened to destroy my skin and beat me to death if I did not do his bidding. Even then I might have wavered, so he drugged me with a poison that weakened my will to fight him. He gave me the dagger, hid me in the stable and lured Gireth out with a false message.”

Teza silently produced the dagger and laid it and the bloodstained purse before the Elders. The witch watched impassively. Kanlara’s face brightened with rising hope.

The judges asked many questions of the selkie and Kanlara and they carefully examined the dagger and the purse. To everyone’s surprise, the witch with the selkie filled in a number of details about Lord Rath’s activities in Immilmar and other cities in Rashemen. The judges decided a full investigation of his crimes needed to be held immediately and they recommended that word be sent to the huhrong to have Lord Rath arrested.

Teza glanced at the selkie and dropped her eyelid in a slow wink. She didn’t think there was a need to rush.

“In the face of such clear evidence, we free Kanlara from the charges of murder and release her,” announced the judges.

Teza whooped with joy. She sprang around the Fang guard and untied Kanlara’s hands herself. The wizardess fell into her arms and returned her overjoyed hug.

“Thank you, my sister,” she whispered to Teza. “Thank you for everything.”

The horse thief grinned. “Wait till you hear the rest of the story.”