The Alabaster Staff - Edward Bolme [77]
Kehrsyn scanned the room. It was a simple affair, almost ascetic in style, yet lavish in appointments. There was a bed, a desk, a chair, a wardrobe, and a small brazier. Each was small and cut with simple lines, but well polished and inlaid with delicate patterns of contrasting woods and metals. The bed looked barely large enough to contain one of Tiglath's girth, and it had no headboard or footboard, but the thick mattress was a far cry from the bags of compressed cotton that Kehrsyn had occasionally used when times had been better, and the sheets looked to be of very fine fabric. There was no pillow.
There was a small rug by the window and a large one beneath the bed. Each was only one solid color-one red and the other black-but plush. There was no art on the walls, and the desk had a single quill of red held in a gold inkwell. In short, it seemed that the priestess allowed herself few amenities, but with those few she indulged herself to the hilt. Somehow the mixture of ascetic and feminine gave Kehrsyn a privileged view into Tiglath's personal life and quenched the displaced anger that she had built up.
Kehrsyn took off her rapier, undid her cloak, and placed them on the chair. The added weight made the chair creak.
The bed rustled, and Kehrsyn froze in place. The cover on the mattress shifted, then the dragonet's head popped out and stared at Kehrsyn. She saw nictitating membranes glide over the emerald eyes, then retract again. Kehrsyn held one hand out defensively.
"I have sufferance," she said to the tiny beast. "Tiglath said so. Don't forget that."
The dragonet growled and emerged fully from beneath the covers. Its whiplike tail lashed back and forth.
Fearing she might have to flee, Kehrsyn held up both hands, showing them to be empty.
"I know what you're thinking," she said, "but I'm not here to steal. I'm here… well, I guess I'm here because I hope I'm wrong. But I have to know. You can watch if you want, to make sure I leave everything where I found it, but I'm not going to harm Tiglath, so you'd better not harm me."
The dragonet growled again, then lay down at the edge of the bed, resting its head on its forepaws. Its tail still lashed, but it made no further move to interfere.
Kehrsyn checked the wardrobe first, her soft steps all but noiseless on the wooden floor. Using the keys she'd picked from Tiglath's pocket, she opened the wardrobe with no problem. It held only a few robes, each of identical cut, and one nightgown, which, in Kehrsyn's opinion, was mercifully modest. She sounded the wardrobe for false panels and found one in the base, though the compartment contained only a diary, which Kehrsyn declined to open. After all, she was investigating; she wasn't there to pry. If she found nothing else, she could look it over later.
She replaced everything exactly as she had found it-an old habit from her thieving days, and one that had always served her well-and turned to the bed.
Her search of the bed turned up nothing. The desk, like the wardrobe, contained a few items-a strongbox with some coins and gems, a collection of what appeared to be personal memorabilia-but nothing resembling a long wand of white bone. She skimmed the papers on top of the desk, since they were clearly new. Kehrsyn was not well lettered, and it was difficult to read the priestess's crabbed handwriting, but the bold titles were unmistakable. One, labeled "Temple," looked to have a roster written on it, with question marks, Ys, or Ns next to each name. Another sheet was labeled "Furifax," and yet others had names that Kehrsyn did not recognize. The sheet that earned the most attention was one labeled "Kairsin." She half-smiled at the misspelling, and she glanced over the unfamiliar writing, but her eyes kept returning to the single word circled at the bottom of the page: "TRUTH."
Satisfied, she then sounded the walls of the room carefully,