The Wyvern's Spur - Kate Novak [33]
"You're a very musical little creature," Giogi said. "Maybe I should name you Birdie. Come on, Birdie." Giogi led Olive out of the stall and from the carriage house.
The pair of them clomped through the garden and out into the street. Wagons and carts loaded with hay and seaweed and fish and firewood crammed the road. Servants and field hands and fishermen and foresters edged around each other on the plank walkways. Oblivious to the immediate flow of traffic, Giogi led his burro down the center of the street, while he studied the movement on either side of him with intense curiosity. Olive was hard-pressed to avoid stepping on his feet when he wandered too close to her hooves.
"I had no idea how busy this town was so early," Giogi muttered.
So why don't we go back to bed and wait for the traffic to clear? Olive thought, but Giogi guided her westward through the crush.
The sky, which last night had been clear and starry, was blanketed by slate-gray clouds, and the air was no longer crisp, but was moist with impending rain or snow. Olive's breath steamed from her nostrils, and Giogi puffed vapor from his lips as he strolled along whistling, in tune if not in tempo.
Near the edge of town, the pair turned onto a path heading south up a steep hill. I'm not making this ascent, Olive thought, planting her feet firmly in the road. A swat on her rump from the nobleman got her moving in spite of herself.
The path led to a rocky graveyard bordered by a low wall and surrounded by pine and oak trees. The trees cast dark shadows on the already gloomy setting, and the carpet of pine needles and oak leaves muffled the sounds of their footsteps. Most of the headstones within the yard were weathered and broken with age, reminding Olive of the stumps of an old giant's teeth.
Very near the entrance stood a large stone mausoleum, as worn-looking as the rest of the graveyard's monuments but still intact. Thick stalks of ivy ran up its walls. The dead ivy leaves looked black in the shadows and rattled in the breeze. Small, ornately carved stone wyverns perched all along the mausoleum's roof and looked down on them with glass eyes. Giogi avoided looking at them, knowing all too well their long reptilian bodies, batlike wings, and scorpion tails. He shuddered as he approached the mausoleum's entrance. The Wyvernspur coat of arms was carved into the walls on either side of the door, and the Wyvernspur name was carved into the lintel.
Smaller markings were cut into the door, lintel, and jamb-invocations to Selune and Mystra to protect the crypt from trespassers. For good measure, magical glyphs were scrawled in a spidery hand on every wall.
This must be the place, Olive thought.
"This is the place," Giogi said. "It's so deadly quiet."
Wonderful choice of words this boy has. Olive thought.
"Giogioni, you're late," a woman's voice snapped behind them.
Olive might have jumped at the sound, but she was too loaded down to do more than jerk her head up. Giogi, not so limited, whirled around.
A beautiful young woman in a dark fur cape popped out from behind a ruined tomb. She tossed her hood back with an ungloved hand, revealing long black hair and sharp, familiar features.
One of the Wyvernspur brood, Olive realized immediately.
"Julia!" Giogi said, "What are you doing here?"
"Steele told me to wait here to tell you about Frefford."
"What about Freffie?" Giogi asked. His expression clouded with concern.
"Gaylyn's gone into labor, so he's still at Redstone. You were late, so Steele entered the crypt without you. He said you could follow him in and try to catch up."
"Catch up. Right," Giogi muttered, pulling out a silver key that hung from a chain around his neck.
Olive studied Julia curiously. Something about her, besides her Wyvernspur face, interested the halfling. Olive sniffed the air. She could smell something mingled with Julia's sweat. The human woman was nervous. She might not be lying, but the halfling could tell she was up to something. An expert herself at the