Modern Magick

The Heart of Hyndorin: 12

'Not just any silver,' said Jay helpfully. 'I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure it's the same kind as the lyre.'

'That is entirely—' said Luan, and stopped. 'What kind of a hound circumvents my defences and finds its way straight to the most valuable artefacts in the building?'

'She's a nose-for-gold,' I said quickly, remembering too late that I had glossed over Pup's presence before.

His face set into disapproving lines. 'I think you said you were not treasure hunters?'

'We aren't. It's just Pup that has a few bad habits...'

'And what manner of scholar keeps a nose-for-gold?'

A fair question. 'She's an academic oddity where we come from,' I said, trying my best smile.

'We aren't here to steal your silver,' said Jay irritably. 'We came looking for Torvaston's project, that's all.'

'That,' said Luan in a terrible voice, 'is our silver.'

Jay blinked. '...Oh.'

So the "Heart" was a dismantled pile of Silver with a capital S, and it was lying in a storeroom somewhere in this largely-empty tower. I remembered myself telling Wyr he was welcome to plunder at will once we got inside, and winced. All right, I hadn't thought the place would prove to be inhabited, but that was the best excuse I had for my reckless promise. A cache of something so frighteningly valuable and powerful must never be permitted to fall into the hands of someone like him.

Earl Evemer and his compatriots had successfully protected it for centuries. It was our unauthorised presence here that put it at risk.

Way to go, team.

'We should go,' I said.

Jay looked sharply at me. 'Go?'

'What we came for no longer exists,' I said. 'Mission over. We can go back to Mandridore and tell them it's a no go.'

'We?'

For a second, I'd forgotten my no-fly state. 'Erm.' I looked around. 'Where is Pup? You left her with the Silver?'

'If you'd like to try prising her off that stuff, be my guest.'

I sighed. 'I am very sorry,' I said to Luan. 'If we can retrieve my disgraceful thief of a Pup—' (and, come to think of it, my intellectual thief of a book) '—We will get off your lawn, and stop complicating your day.'

Luan held up a hand. 'Not so fast.'

I stared. 'What?'

'I would like a look at that lyre, please.'

I dithered. I could hardly blame him for asking, but... I did not want to hand it over.

Then again, we stood here swearing blind we weren't there to rob the place, and expected him to just trust our word, despite all apparent evidence to the contrary. It would be unbecoming to refuse to trust him for even five minutes with our articles of value.

I looked at Jay. He had hidden the thing; it was for him to decide whether or not to reveal it.

He looked quizzically back at me. I'm the new guy, his face (probably) said. Why are you making me decide, o mentor?

Because your guess is as good as mine, I signalled back.

He shrugged, and set the snuff box down. Which reminded me. 'Hey, where in the tower did you get swept off to?'

'Some kind of bedchamber,' he said, counting downwards through the buttons on his shirt. 'Or a museum. The place was practically preserved in aspic.'