Dragon and Judge

"You'd better hope so," Frost warned. "Because the fact that after eleven years a Judge-Paladin has suddenly shown up and tripped your alarms ought to make you pause for thought."

"I suppose you're right," Neverlin said in a voice that sent a shiver up Alison's back. "There's no point in taking chances, especially not now. The next time Bolo checks in, I'll order him to wreck the mine."

"Will that be enough?" Frost asked.

"It'll bury any evidence of motive," Neverlin said. "That, plus the fact that Morgan doesn't have his original documents anymore ought to do it."

"I meant do you think you should also do something about the Judge-Paladin," Frost said. "Braxton's making enough noise out there without the Judge-Paladins' Office letting itself in on the act."

"I suppose you're right there, too," Neverlin conceded. "And it's not like Bolo hasn't killed a Judge-Paladin before. He can handle the job."

There was another hiss of papers sliding over each other. "Meanwhile, we have a busy day tomorrow," Neverlin's voice continued, sounding more distant. Apparently, he'd put the papers back into the shoulder bag. "I think I'll check once more on the girl's record search, then get to bed."

"Good idea," Frost said, and there was a subtle double creaking of leather as both men stood up. "Because I've seen her before," he added, his voice fading away. "I know I have."

"You'd better figure out where," Neverlin warned, his voice fading the same way. "And fast."

There was the sound of a door closing, and then silence.

Alison waited another minute to make sure they weren't coming back. Then, grimacing, she pulled the receiver from her ear. "You get all that?" she whispered.

"Yes," Taneem said, sliding back to her usual place across Alison's back, legs, and arms. "This sounds very bad."

"It'll be all right," Alison said, forcing a confidence she didn't especially feel. So far Neverlin seemed to be concentrating his search on Internos and alien databases, official as well as criminal. If he stayed with those, she should be fine.

But if it occurred to Frost to dig into the Malison Ring's own database . . .

"What was that?" Taneem whispered suddenly.

Alison froze. Straining her ears, she could just make out a faint sound that might possibly be distant human speech. Someone coming down the hallway toward their room?

And then suddenly she understood. Mouthing a silent curse at her own stupidity, she jammed the receiver back into her ear.

It was indeed where the voice was coming from. To her dismay, though, while the sound became louder it didn't become any more understandable. Only random and disconnected syllables seemed to be getting through the soft but persistent hiss of background noise.

There wasn't even enough for her to identify the voice, though she was pretty sure it wasn't Frost or Neverlin. She turned her head back and forth, trying to adjust the receiver's position for better reception. But nothing seemed to help.

"It's Uncle Virge," Taneem said abruptly.

Alison frowned, straining her ears even harder. The K'da was right, she realized abruptly.

Which meant the Essenay was somewhere nearby, probably just outside the Chookoock family grounds. "Can you understand him?" she whispered.

"No," Taneem whispered back. "It's too faint. Too . . ."

"Too broken," Alison finished for her. Throwing off the blankets, she grabbed for her clothes. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" Taneem asked anxiously.

"We're two floors underground," Alison reminded her, pulling on her jeans and shirt. "We should get better reception outside."

"But are you allowed to leave the house?"

Alison stuffed her feet into her low-topped boots. "Let's find out."

CHAPTER 19

The hallway was deserted, as was the stairway leading up toward the foyer. Somewhere along the way the faint voice sputtering in her ear fell silent. She continued on anyway, crossing toward the archway leading into the grand entry foyer.

And stopped short as two armed Brummgas stepped into her path. "Stand," one of them ordered quietly.

"I'm not one of the slaves," Alison told him, trying to sound like she actually belonged here. "I'm Alison Kayna, working with the Patri Chookoock and Colonel Frost and Mr. Arthur. I just want to go outside for a few minutes to get some fresh air."

"Slaves are not allowed outside the slave quarters," the first Brummga insisted.

"I'm not a slave," Alison repeated. "I came with Colonel Frost. You can check with him if you don't believe me."

The two guards exchanged stares, their typically molasses Brummgan minds apparently working overtime on this one. "Not here," the first said at last, pointing to Alison's left. "Through the kitchen—door that way."

The kitchen was large and well stocked, though not as impressive as some Alison had seen. Threading her way between work stations, she made her way to the door at the far end.