Dragons of the Valley - Donita K. Paul [69]
The Grawl used a thumb and forefinger to pull an object from his inside pocket and then placed the flat box of silver in the palm of his hand. He stroked it, smiling at its beauty, at the secret.
He banished every movement, every thought, even the pleasure he enjoyed as the device beckoned him to use it. He once more took stock of his surroundings, checked for intruders, and derived satisfaction from knowing he was alone except for the base animals of the woods.
He opened the silver box like a book. From its center, a flood of lights in strings poured over the edges, pooled on the leaf-covered ground, then began to grow upward. A framework became visible, a large archway. The lights played around the exterior while the image of the other side of the small clearing shimmered as if The Grawl looked through pebbled glass.
When the structure stabilized, no longer stretching and no longer swaying, The Grawl closed the box and tossed it through the center. It did not land on the other side among the leaves. Without hesitation, The Grawl walked forward, straight through his gateway.
On the other side, he stood in an enclosed garden, one barricaded with an eight-foot wall all around. He leaned over and picked up the silver box, opened it, and waited for the structure he’d just unleashed to dissipate. The same strings of light that had poured out of the device now flowed in. When the silver enclosed the last vestige of his secret, he shut the lid, savoring the sound of the click that secured his special prize.
Nighttime, always nighttime, when he arrived home. He strode to the locked entry to this secluded area of his estate. Again he listened, and again he heard nothing to interfere with his progress. He didn’t go through the wooden door but leaped with a single action to the top of the brick wall. He dropped soundlessly to the other side, then strolled through the formal paths of a manicured garden to a two-story mansion. He slipped behind a hedge to a corner where a tower rose another story over the rest of the building. Scaling the network of oubotis ivy, he entered a window at the top.
He immediately pulled on the servants’ bell.
A tinny voice responded. “Yes sir?”
“A bath in my bedroom and a meal.”
“Yes sir.”
The Grawl trod the circular stairs without a sound. He entered his chambers and removed his soiled clothes in a dressing room lined with elegant clothing of silks and brocades. He heard the servants deliver the tub, then fill it with hot water. When they had retreated, he walked into the room and lowered his body into water too hot for any other creature to tolerate. He leaned his massive back against the side of the tub and allowed himself to relax.
He would look at his beautiful things, wear the fancy clothes, deposit his ill-gotten gains in the vault in the cellar, and perhaps spend some time stacking coins of gold. He would contemplate the control he had over this domain. He’d allow the pleasure of knowing that his strength grew greater with every gold coin he acquired, with every piece of art. He ruled here as well as in the woods. Two distinct worlds. One Grawl.
Then he would return to the forest in Chiril and kill a wizard.
27
Searching out the Truth
Groddenmitersay sat across the room from Verrin Schope and his lovely wife, Lady Peg. A merchant couple had joined them for dinner that night, and the tumanhofer commander of Odidoddex’s tactical force wanted to hear the conversation. Unfortunately, no empty spaces existed at a table nearby.
Kulson entered the room, and most people glanced up to watch the bisonbeck stroll over to the bar. He ordered food, and when the tender served him, he picked up his plate and brought it to Groddenmitersay’s table. He hesitated.
“Go ahead and sit,” Groddenmitersay said. “Everyone has figured out that we do business together. Let’s hope none have figured out what