Dragon and Judge

And winced as his fingertip ran into something sharp. "There's more under the surface," he said, feeling around. "Feels like more wood . . . yeah. Yeah, there's a whole—feels like a round column of it. Sunk pretty deep, too."

"A supporting pylon," Draycos said. "Like the Great Hall, only for the Small Hall they were able to use wood instead of stone."

"Treated somehow to keep from rotting," Jack agreed, rinsing his hand off in the river.

"Yet a bomb strong enough to destroy any structure this size would have caused serious damage to the entire canyon," Draycos said. "I believe your earlier conclusion was right: the Golvins themselves completed its destruction."

"And have been shaking in their vests ever since, wondering if someone would come looking for the missing Judge-Paladins," Jack said grimly.

"Not all of them, I think, have such guilty consciences," Draycos said slowly. "Otherwise, why would any of them have brought you here?"

"You're right," Jack said, nodding. "Only the One and maybe a few more know the whole truth."

"A truth which we need to learn."

"Oh, we will, buddy," Jack promised darkly. "Trust me. We will."

CHAPTER 18

The next morning, Alison had just finished dressing when Dumbarton and Mrishpaw arrived at her door. "They're ready for you," Dumbarton said.

"What, no breakfast?" Alison asked.

"They've got something there," Dumbarton said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder as the Brummga scooped up her bag of disguised burglar equipment. "Come on, come on—they're waiting."

They went back upstairs, across the main foyer, and up a wide staircase to a second-floor balcony. From there they walked down a nicely furnished corridor, then up another set of stairs, and finally to a domed chamber the size of a small conference room, only much more nicely furnished.

As Dumbarton had said, Neverlin and Frost were waiting for her. They were seated in comfortable chairs beside a line of five safes, looking rather like spectators at some sporting event. Along the side wall a small breakfast buffet had been laid out, with both hot and cold food. The aromas rising from it made Alison's stomach growl.

And over in the far corner, seated in a chair that looked rather like a throne, was an old, wrinkled, glowering Brummga.

"Morning, Kayna," Frost greeted her with a sort of gruff politeness. "Ready to start?"

"As soon as I've eaten something," Alison told him, nodding over at the old Brummga. "Who's your friend?"

An instant later, a hard blow across her shoulder blades sent her sprawling flat onto the thick carpet. "Hey!" she yelped, rolling back up into a sitting position and glaring up at the two mercenaries behind her. "What was that—?"

She broke off, throwing herself into a diving roll that barely managed to get her out of the way as Mrishpaw swiped at her again.

"Mrishpaw—stand down!" Frost snapped.

But the other ignored him. Taking a long step toward Alison, he raised his hand for another try. "Patri, call him off," Neverlin said quietly. "We need her alive and unharmed."

There was no order that Alison could hear. But to her relief, Mrishpaw jerked to a halt. Fora moment he glowered down at her, then stepped back to Dumbarton's side. Breathing hard, Alison turned her head to look at the old Brummga.

He was gazing back at her from his throne, his face expressionless. "Does it have learned respect?" he rumbled.

Alison took a careful breath. "I humbly crave the pardon of the Patri Chookoock," she said.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Frost stir a little at the subtle edge of sarcasm beneath the words. Fortunately, the Patri Chookoock didn't seem to hear it. "You may can stand," he said.

"Thank you." Keeping a wary eye on Mrishpaw, Alison got her feet under her and stood up. Jack had told her about his casual mistreatment here at the Chookoock estate. She should have been ready for some of the same.

"Now; shall we try it again?" Neverlin asked. "Are you ready to begin?"

Alison glanced sideways at the Patri. "I will begin at your pleasure," she said. "May I humbly suggest that I'll do better if I'm allowed to eat first?"

"You may indeed so suggest." Neverlin turned to the Patri. "Patri?"

"It were is better," the Patri rumbled. "Allow it to eat."

Neverlin gestured to the buffet. "Go ahead."

"Thank you," Alison said, bowing to each of the three in turn before crossing over to the food. It irritated her no end to have to play this kind of humility game, especially in front of a creature who made his money buying and selling living beings.

But the very first thing her father had taught her was not to let emotion get in the way of the job. If it took a little groveling to get what she wanted out of these people, she could handle that.

She ate a quick breakfast, making sure to thank the Patri twice more between bites, and then set to work.