Kaavl Conspiracy (28 page)

And she waited. Her legs grew cramped, so she stretched them out and pressed her aching back to the wall. She had no idea how much time had gone by, but knew the minutes were passing very slowly. It gave her plenty of time to think about her strategy. How could she be sure she saw the thief’s face? Should she try to strike a firestick, or try to capture him? No. Either would be foolish. She frowned in the dark.

Grain, skins, metal pots, and pans. Her necklace. The list of thefts scrolled through her mind. Why were those items stolen? After all, most were available upon request, although maybe not in large quantities. She shifted into a cross-legged position, trying to find a more comfortable way to sit on the hard floor.

Her eyelids were drooping when a soft scratching sound came from the door. Instantly, she straightened and peered through a gap in the leather. The strips tickled the side of her nose. A slit of dim light appeared. The slit widened, revealing the large, dark outline of a man. It must be the thief. He’d blown out most of the lights in the hall again. Her heart beat faster, and she sat very still.

The dim light from the hall revealed only dark hair as the figure sidled inside. Softly, the door closed to almost a crack, and she saw shadowy movements as the man groped his way over to the apte skins. Just as she had thought!

She heard a short, tearing sound and then some soft, muffled movements. He was stuffing them inside his tunic, Methusal guessed, struggling to see. She needed more light to identify him.

The man opened the door a bit wider, again revealing dark hair. Then he darted out and swiftly pulled the door shut. Methusal leaped out of her hiding place.

But her legs were numb from sitting for so long, and she half-stumbled, half-hopped to the entry and flung it wide open. She staggered into the hall. But all she saw, as she had on the night the grain had vanished, was a tall, broad back darting around the corner. Only this time he had headed toward the main hall, and not the plateau.

Legs stinging with pins and needles, she limped on as fast as she could to the end of the passageway. But by the time she reached the main passage, it was deserted. Frustrated, she bent to massage her prickling, painful legs. So close, and yet so far.

The moment she was sufficiently recovered, she sped to the dining room. A hoarse whisper summoned her spying partner and rival from the gloomy depths.

He raised an eyebrow. “Well?”

“No one’s come in here, have they?”

“No. Did you see something?”

“Yes! Just like I thought, the thief came and stole some skins.”

“Did you see him?”

“I tried. But it was too dark, and I couldn’t think of a way to shine a light on him without being seen.”

Behran exhaled sharply.

“I know. Think how I feel. But it was definitely a man, and he’s tall, with dark hair.” Methusal felt awful, like she had failed her mission, but Behran caught her tone and unexpectedly touched her shoulder.

“It’s okay, Thusa. Better he didn’t see you, and that you’re safe. At least we have more information. Who do we know who has dark hair?”

“Practically everyone!” Methusal laughed shortly, blinking back tears of frustration.

“Not Petr, and not your father, or mine—they all have white or gray hair.”

“But it could be anyone else! Kitran, Verdnt, Barak, Timaeus…they’re all tall with dark hair. And they all have access to the ore, too. I can’t remember what Pogul’s father looks like, or who else on the Council has dark hair.”

“Pogul has blond hair, but his father’s is dark.”

“I need to ask Papa which council members meet all the criteria I’ve found. And which guards, too.”

“Good idea.”

“I don’t know, Behran.” Methusal felt stupid, and like she’d failed, because she’d let the thief escape again. “I don’t think we’ve learned much.”

“Yes, we have. We’re narrowing down the list. And Petr needs to know what just happened. We might as well tell him now.”

The evening was growing worse by the moment. Methusal slowly followed Behran to the Storst compartment. There, she let Behran do all of the talking.

“Is this true?” Petr turned a heavy, condemning frown upon her. “I can’t believe you’d follow the foolish notions of a thirteen-year-old child!”

Methusal just stared at him. “Did you hear Behran? Someone stole skins tonight!”

Petr’s gaze narrowed. “Don’t speak to me like that, girl! Do you understand? Now, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and take a look at the garment room. But if you’re wasting my time…” The threat hung heavily in the air.

He retreated to another room and Methusal spotted Aali peering around the doorway of her room. Her eyes looked bright and excited. Petr returned in a moment and slammed the compartment door shut behind them. “I’ll ask your mother to come with us. Then you’ll show me what you saw.”

They roused Hanuh Maahr from her early slumber, and after pulling on some comfortable clothes, she followed them down the hall to the garment room. Worry pinched her features. She lit a lamp, which softly illuminated the room, and then she turned automatically to the skins on the wall.

A distressed cry was all the proof they needed.

With a frown, Petr moved in to take a closer look. “How many skins are missing, Hanuh?”

“All three! We had just finished them….All that work!” Her face crumpled.

Petr roughly patted her back. “Now, now, don’t cry. We’ll straighten it all out. Go get some rest. If I have more questions, I’ll ask you in the morning.”

When Methusal made a movement to go with her, Petr crooked a preemptory finger at her. “Not you, young lady. I have a few more questions.”

Hanuh hugged her tight. “It’s okay, Thusa. I’ll be fine. At least you saw something that might help us catch this thief.” Despite her brave words, her shoulders sagged as she left.

Petr drew the garment room door closed, and then
Behran and Methusal followed his silent footsteps to his office
. Lamp lit, and that door shut, he motioned for them to sit. They obeyed, and gazed up at his towering height. Methusal was glad when he finally sat, because she was getting a crick in her neck.

Petr drummed his fingers on the desk. “I don’t approve of what you’ve done. I want you to know that. But seeing it can’t be changed, I’ll have to ask you if, during this escapade, you were able to determine the identity of the thief.”

This was as close as the Chief would come to admitting their plan might have produced information of merit.

“I saw the outline of a man—a tall one—with dark hair,” Methusal said.

“That’s all you saw.” A statement, as if he found her testimony wanting.

“Yes, sir.”

“And you saw nothing, is that correct, Behran?”

“Yes, sir. But Deccia and Aali saw a man yesterday, too.”

“I see.” Several long moments crept by, and Methusal suspected he was trying to intimidate them still further. But when he looked up, it was clear he had come to a decision. “Behran, you are dismissed.”

Behran glanced at Methusal. “I’ll wait in the hall.”

She nodded. After the door closed Petr remained silent for a moment, frowning.

“I did see the thief, and it’s a man,” Methusal told him.

“So you say.”

“I
did.
When will you believe me? And when will you believe that Renn never wrote that note, and I never went to
the bluffs? I didn’t leave my necklace in the ore deposits, either!”

“Why did Renn have your necklace in his pocket? And why did someone leave your necklace in the ore cave? Hmm? Tell me that.”

“I don’t know!” Methusal felt incredibly frustrated. Would Petr never see reason? “Maybe he planted it on Renn. To point blame toward me.”

“And why would someone want to blame you?”

“Because…because Renn had been investigating the thefts. Maybe the thief knew that. Maybe Renn had found something incriminating. The thief knew he’d have to eliminate Renn, so he left my necklace on Renn to direct the blame away from himself. A false lead.”

“Sounds like you’re grasping for the wind, Methusal. Why would someone target you, specifically, of all the people in Rolban?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been trying to figure that out. Maybe it all happened by chance. I lost my necklace. I’m always taking it off, because it gets heavy. I probably left it somewhere and the thief found it. Maybe he realized he could use it to his advantage.”

Petr shook his head. But his gaze looked conflicted. For the first time, Methusal felt a little hope.

She said, “All I know is I’ve never been to the ore deposits.
I didn’t leave my necklace there, so someone else did.”

“You’ve never been to the deposits?” Petr’s white brows ratcheted together. “Is that so? Lies will only dig you in deeper, Methusal.”

Hope drained away again, like water through a drain. “What do you mean?” she said wearily.

“Pogul saw you and Behran in the ore passageway last week. Behran has authorization. You don’t. Why were you there?” Petr’s fist slammed the table. “To steal more ore?”

“No!” she cried out. Frustration churned. “If you must know, I went there to get information. I used kaavl to get by Pogul, because I wanted to see the ore deposits. I wanted to see how easy it would be for someone to sneak into the ore mine. Basically, I wanted to get information to clear my name! I’d never been there before.”

“Uh huh.” Petr leaned back in his chair. “You expect me to believe that?”

“We have proof the thief is a man. It’s not me.”

Petr drummed his fingers on the table. “Maybe.” After a moment, he continued, “But I will continue this investigation. And it is
my
investigation, so stay out of it.”

“I can’t. You’ve trapped me inside this community, and taken away my freedom. I’m charged with a crime I didn’t commit. If I’m convicted, I will be executed. Added to that, if I beat Goric tomorrow I know you won’t let me participate in the Inter-Community Kaavl Games. I’ll continue to search for the thief until my name is cleared and I’m free to go.”

“Go, then.”

“What?”

“Go to the Games. If you win tomorrow. I won’t stop you.” Petr turned away to thumb through some parchments.

“
What?
Why have you suddenly changed your mind?” Methusal couldn’t believe the sudden turn in events.

“I haven’t changed my mind about your guilt or innocence. But I’ll let you go on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“You stop investigating these crimes. It’s my job, and if you continue, you’re going to get yourself, Deccia, or Aali killed. Do you understand?”

“I understand, but…”

Petr stood. A clear dismissal. “Agreed?”

“I agree not to involve the others. But I still need to clear my name so you’ll believe me. I won’t go to jail now—or in the future—for a crime I didn’t commit.”

Petr threw his arms into the air. “You are a belligerent, obstinate girl! Do I have to spell it out for you?”

Methusal also stood, and took a step away from her unpredictable uncle. “What do you mean?”

“If I tell you something, will you keep your lips sealed?”

She frowned. “Yes.”

“You’re no longer my primary suspect in this crime.”

She gasped. “What? But…”

“If the murderer thinks you’re my primary target, he’ll relax. Maybe he’ll make a mistake.”

“You think I’m innocent?”

“I’m not sure. But the handwriting and this latest evidence
both prove someone else is involved. And he is probably the murderer.
But,”
he cautioned, “I’m still not sure about your involvement.”

So, she wasn’t completely exonerated. But it was a step in the right direction. “What about Liem?”

“Let me worry about Liem. But I have another condition, if you want to go to the Games. If you win against Goric, of course.”

“What’s that?”

“Act like you’re still my number one suspect. Make everyone believe it. You can go, if you agree.”

It appeared that Petr really was investigating, although she’d seen little proof of it until this minute. Either that, or he wanted her to quit investigating so much that he’d let her go to the IC Games, just to get her out of Rolban. She wasn’t sure what to believe right now. But his offer, on the surface, at least, was too good to refuse.

“So I should keep ranting about how unfair you are?”

“The usual tirade should work.” He smiled a little. “Agreed?”

“Agreed.” She reached for the door handle. “Thank you.”

Behran waited for her in the hall. “Well?”

“He’ll let me go to the Kaavl Games!” Methusal let out a small screech. She grabbed his hands and danced in a circle.

“Okay, Thusa. Remember, you have to win, first.” With a smile, Behran freed himself. “Are you free and clear now?”

“Not exactly.” Methusal didn’t like keeping information from Behran, since he’d gone out of his way to help her. “But it’s a step in the right direction, right?”

Behran lifted an eyebrow. “It’s not like you to stick your head in a hole, Thusa. You still don’t have solid proof you’re innocent. And what about Renn? Do you really think Petr will find his killer? As far as we know, your leads and Liem’s are the only ones he has.”

It was true. If it hadn’t been for their investigation, she’d still be Petr’s number one suspect. How hard
was
Petr investigating? “He wants to be re-elected. He’ll do all he can to find the killer.”

“So, you trust him now?”

“No. Not entirely. I just feel so happy…” she trailed off, feeling a little irritated. “Why can’t I have this one happy moment, Behran? Why do you have to be such a thick fog?”

“Just trying to keep your eyes open.”

“I can do that on my own, thanks.”

“I’m not the enemy,” Behran said softly. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Surprised, Methusal searched his eyes. He meant it. “Thank you, Behran. Good night.”

He returned her smile, and she slipped down the halls to her compartment. Behran was right. Until the murderer was arrested, she’d never truly be free. But for now, she’d concentrate on beating Goric tomorrow. If she won, she could go to the Inter-Community Games. Maybe in Dehre and Tarst she could continue her investigation. She still believed that an immigrant, maybe from one of those communities, was involved in the thefts. And maybe a messenger, too.