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I gripped the handle and twisted it. Locked. “Holgan, you any good at picking locks?”
“I’m a mountain guide, not a damn thief,” he said. “But these types of doors are rarely a match for a well-placed boot.”
Said boot was employed, and the door promptly crashed back against the wall, sending plaster dust spinning into the air.
“You’ve done that more than once in your life,” I said, amused.
“The missus has a habit of locking me out after I’ve had a few too many in the pub.” He shrugged. “The boot is easier than the shoulder, and locks are easily enough replaced.”
“I’m surprised she hasn’t thought about getting a metal door or even a medieval iron drop latch.”
I had one on the tavern’s medieval front door, and it had stopped many a would-be thief or thug. It couldn’t stop a witch or even a dark elf, of course, many of whom could control metal as easily as they did earth, but the alarm spells woven around the perimeter generally did that.
Holgan shone his light through the doorway, revealing a long corridor off which were five doors, then stepped back and motioned me to lead the way. I didn’t immediately enter, instead pressing my fingers against the doorframe.
Pixies, like wood elves, had an affinity with forests and wood, and both of us could manipulate it to our will. Certain branches of pixies, however, could also hear the song of wood that no longer lived in the ground, wood that was used in furniture and in buildings, which caused no end of distress to youngsters until they learned how to control and mute the ability.
This particular frame was made of cheap pine, which was always harder to hear because of its relatively short life span, and it had been painted over often enough for its song to be almost muted. But in this case, it didn’t really matter, as I simply wanted to use its connection to the structure of the building to “see” if there was anyone occupying the rooms ahead or the floors above us.
As the connection deepened, an interconnected network of power and music appeared in my mind’s eye. I ran mental fingers along the golden arteries that bound the building together, but there was a big black hole when it came to the floors. The walls of this place were alive and strong, but the wooden flooring had been covered with so many layers of vinyl that its song had been silenced long ago. It couldn’t tell me what might wait ahead.
“Anything?” Lugh asked.
“Dead wood.”
“Ah. Shame.”
We moved on. Three of the five doors were open, but a quick look revealed nothing more than an office and two storerooms. The fourth was locked and barred with an almost medieval-looking metal gate none of us was getting through. Which left us the final door and a set of rather dodgy-looking stairs leading up to the next floor.
But as we neared the final door, light flickered down the knife’s fuller. I stopped abruptly. There was no dust on the door and nothing to indicate there was magic here other than that soft flicker.
I hesitated, then touched the knife’s tip against the door handle. Nothing. I tugged one of my gloves from my pocket, pulled it on, then pushed the door open.
Revealing a ransacked office.
“We might need to call the cops,” Holgan said. “This is looking like something we don’t want to get involved in.”
“Too late for that, I’m thinking,” Lugh said. “Especially when we’ve already kicked one door down.”
“Nah, Jimmy will understand that,” Holgan said. “He knows I’ve a bit of a temper when someone does me wrong.”
Jimmy was obviously a popular name around these parts. “How well do you know the local copper?”
“Meaning, how likely is he to charge us for breaking and entering?” Holgan said, amused. “We grew up together. He’ll be fine as long as we immediately report what we found.”
“Do so then,” Lugh said. “We’ll check upstairs, just to be sure we’re alone.”
Holgan nodded, pulled out his phone, and then grimaced. “No reception here. I’ll have to head back out to the street.”
I watched him leave and then pulled out my own phone. No reception, as he’d said.
“Distrustful type, aren’t you?” Lugh said in a wry tone.
“I think it’s warranted in this type of situation. Besides, just because he didn’t abandon us on the mountain doesn’t mean he won’t now.”
The Looisearch might be the ones after the Claws, but there were other forces at play, forces that had stolen a huge cache of godly relics the light elves had been protecting. It was highly unlikely they’d decided to make a play for the Claws as well, but it wasn’t something we dare discount, given we had no idea who was involved inthatparticular theft.
But we would find out.
