White Road

grapple more firmly on top of the wall, he climbed down into the garden. He debated taking the rope with him, but that meant carrying the heavy grapple, too, and he suspected the night’s job was going to need more finesse than that would allow. It was dark here; perhaps no one would see the rope, even if they happened by.
    Clipped turf gave softly under his feet as he moved silently toward the right side of the house. The torchlight reached nearly to that corner, and he had to make a dash to the safety of the shadows beyond.
    The lack of watchmen, not to mention dogs, was making him nervous.
    There was no door on this side of the house, or windows, since there was no view, he supposed. Skirting back the way he’d come, he approached the left side of the house. A low wall separated the main gardens from a smaller courtyard, with a well, kitchen garden, and wood stack. This at least was familiar ground; where there was a kitchen garden, the kitchen was usually not far away.
    Sure enough, there was a promising door near the back of the house. It was flanked on either side with rain butts fed by sturdy wooden downspouts that offered a way upstairs if heneeded it. As it turned out, he did. The kitchen door was barred from the inside, so there was no lock to pick.
    Seregil pressed his ear to the door, but either there was no one stirring or the door was too thick for him to hear anything. He stepped back and scanned the upper story of the house. There was a window close enough to the downspout; he hoped Ulan didn’t lock up his windows as tightly as he did his kitchen.
    Gripping the drainpipe in both hands, he gave it a shake. It held solid and felt sturdy enough. He took several small picks and a wooden shim from his tool roll and stuck them in the corner of his mouth.
    The wooden pipe held. Holding tight to it with one hand, he leaned over as far as he could and slipped the shim between the two leaded glass panels of the window, then slowly moved it up and down until he found the latch and unhooked it.
    Swinging the far panel open, he stretched over and got his footing on the bottom of the deep casement. He crouched there for a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the deeper darkness of the room. Gradually he could make out enough to know that this was a sitting room or ladies’ day room. He lowered himself to the floor, which was partially covered by a round rug.
    This is as good a place to start as any
, he thought, although it was unlikely that Ulan would leave the book lying around in plain sight.
    There were a few books on a side table near the hearth, but they were much smaller than the one Alec had described. Chancing the lightstone, he quickly paged through them anyway, but they were common romances, nothing more. He crossed to the door and inched it open. Beyond it lay a short hallway. Two small night lamps in sconces lit it well enough to see several doors on each side of the corridor and where it took a turn at the far end. A pair of expensive shoes sat next to one of the doors near the corner, set out for some servant to clean. Just as he was about to head down the hall to begin his search, he heard footsteps from the far end. A manwearing a Virésse sen’gai and a short sword at his hip came around the corner and started in Seregil’s direction.
    Seregil quickly dropped the lightstone down the neck of his shirt and waited, weighing his options and keeping watch through the crack of the door. He could knife the man as he passed, but once again the thought of spilling ’faie blood kept his hand from his knife. No, he’d much rather knock him out or choke him unconscious and leave him here alive.
    But the man seemed satisfied with his search halfway down the corridor. Turning back, he disappeared the way he’d come.
    Seregil waited until he was certain he was gone, then inched the door open and listened. Yes, there were more men beyond that corner.
    He crept silently down the hallway and chanced a quick peek around the corner. A short stairway led down to an open door, and from here he could make out enough of the murmured conversation to know that they were expecting a burglary.
    But why are they down there? Why only one man making a cursory search up here?
    Because it’s a trap, of course
.
    Keeping a sharp ear out, he quickly began his search, inching each door open a little and listening intently for breathing before chancing the lightstone. The first two were unoccupied bedchambers; there was no