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Athella has her tools back out in an instant. This time she’s quicker with her hands.
Several minutes pass as she pokes at the lock. Two more times we have to pause at the sound of echoing footsteps, butthey’re only traveling through some other adjoining tunnel. We don’t come into contact with anyone else.
And finally, a lowclickemits from the lock.
“Got you,” Athella announces quietly. She places her tools back in their assigned spots before standing. “It’s ready for you, Captain.”
A chill sweeps down my spine at the pronouncement. I’m really about to do this. I’m trusting a rival pirate lord over my father.
“Athella, take Riden’s place and keep watch.”
Her lips round in a slight pout.
“You’ll see what’s inside soon enough. Riden, you’re with me.”
With Athella and Sorinda keeping watch on either end of the tunnel, I grab one of the torches from the wall and slip into the room with Riden right behind me.
***
The study looks as though it was carved right out of the rock. The edges break sharply as if a pickax worked at them. The decor is opulent, much like my own tastes. A massive desk is neatly set with quills and parchment. All the drawers are locked. The chair in front of it is padded with feathers, probably goose. Another chair rests against one of the walls, equally soft with black fabric on the seat. A cabinet on the far side holds rums and wines and two glasses. A chaise and bookcase have their own wall. A tapestry depicting sirens and pirates engaged in battle hangs opposite the desk, next to the lone chair.
After placing the torch in a sconce on the wall, I kneel in front of the desk and get to work at the locks on the drawers. The locks are child’s play compared to the one on the door. I don’t need Athella for them.
“What can I do?” Riden asks as I prod with the tools in my hands.
“For starters, you could be quiet.” Harsh, I know. But I’m too on edge right now to be nice.
The top drawer slides open, and I put away my picks.
There are only two items in here: a piece of parchment and a metal rod.
I pull out the rod first. It’s hollow, no longer than a foot, and ancient-looking symbols have been pounded into the metal. The supposed siren-controlling device? It doesn’t hum or pulse or glow or do anything else mystical. In fact—
I examine a section near one of the openings more closely. I recognize the workmanship. Hakin, one of the keep’s smithies made this. It’s faint, but there’s his signature on the end. He’s hidden it within one of the ancient symbols. Anyone unfamiliar with his work would miss it entirely.
Why would Father have this made? There isn’t a glass for spying or anything inside of the rod—nothing at all to make it useful. Though you could probably clobber someone with it if you were so inclined.
I pull the parchment out next. I read over my father’s handwriting quickly, little phrases jumping out at me.
…control sirens…
…wield with care…
…immunity to enchanting song…
Riden reads over my shoulder, but I don’t mind. More and more things are becoming clear.
I set the paper down, pick up the device.
And I laugh. “This is all fake. He didn’t find it suspicious that my father placed an advanced lock on the main door yet such a flimsy one on the drawers? My father likely planted this for a spy so they would be given false information. And this”—I raise the rod—“it’s just a piece of metal. Vordan and his spy are idiots.”
My shoulders sag, all the tension leaving me at last. I was a fool for listening to Vordan. For letting him get to me. Of course Father would have something in place for spies wandering through here. Maybe I will venture to those dungeons one last time before we leave so the world can be rid of Vordan forever.
I risked our lives for nothing.
I return the items to the drawer and lock it. I’m about to lead Riden out of here, when my eyes glance over the cabinet of rum once more.
There aretwoglasses.Twochairs in the room. And Father is the only one ever seen leaving or entering.
