Wren of Sherwood

1 - Listening Stones

I sneezed, the scent of old coffee and dusty parchment cloying in the tiny office. Papers, books, mugs, and antiques covered every inch of the space, from the desk to the windowsill of the small window.

I fiddled with the small pebble I held, letting the warm power of the forest's magic seep through my gloves and warm my fingers. I needed to figure out where to hide the listening stone where it wouldn't be found or disturbed.

I have about half an hour before Mr. Fenwick is supposed to return. Still, I should leave as soon as possible.

"Let's continue this discussion in my office," a man's muffled voice drifted through the closed door.

My heart leapt into my throat as I froze, trapped.

Where was I supposed to hide? There were no closets or cabinets or drapes to hide behind. If I was caught...

I looked around the room wildly, my eyes catching on a settee covered entirely by several blankets. Was it raised enough for me to wiggle under?

The doorknob rattled.

I was out of time.

I dove at the settee, scurrying under it as I cursed the long skirts I wore as my disguise.

The door creaked open just as I tucked my feet out of sight.

"Please, take a seat Lord Alwin," the man—Mr. Fenwick—said, his shoes tapping on the tiled floors.

I kept my breathing shallow, even as my heart pounded in my ears.

This is bad. Really bad,

The pebble I still gripped grew warmer, the heat seeping through my gloves.

"The documents, if you please," a man said in a crisp, harsh voice that could only belong to Lord Alwin "the rebellion slayer".

Shuffling noises filled the room. "Right, of course. The trade routes are essential to the war efforts, I can imagine."

I was going to be stuck for a while.

Robin's going to kill me. If I can make it out of this mess alive, that is.

It was supposed to be a simple mission: get into the Merchant's guild hall, plant a few listening stones, and get out. But the getting out part was growing more and more difficult.

I might as well make the most of this while I'm stuck here.

I shoved the pebble into the back of the settee leg closest to my head, using the bit of metal sewn into the wrist of my glove to push it into the wood. The few sounds I made were covered up by Mr. Fenwick's incessant babbling about contracts and tariffs. Stuff Will would have to interpret later.

"Are you not prepared for this meeting?" Lord Alwin asked, his scornful voice cutting through Mr. Fenwick's nervous chatter. "Prince John is not a patient man."

"Of course, of course. Let me get you the contracts and let you be off. I am sure you are very busy, advising the king and helping Sir Gisbourne stamp out rebellion. Ah, here they are."

"Good day," Lord Alwin said, enunciating every syllable.

Heavy footsteps echoed off the tiled floors, then the door slammed shut.

Footsteps approached the settee. I froze, holding my breath as Mr. Fenwick collapsed onto the settee with a world-weary sigh.

I was still trapped. And there was no hope of escaping while Mr. Fenwick was at another meeting, as he had nothing more on his schedule.