Love and Bounty

Chapter Twenty-Three: The Draw

The meeting with Jaree-Ra came and went, but Hrolf's mind was elsewhere.

He had gathered the basics of their next move. Jaree-Ra was adamant about getting the four of them invitations to a party at the Blue Palace—not that any of them would belong there. Still, Jaree-Ra was sure that once they could just slip in and blend in for a while, they would have the chance to sneak into an area of the Blue Palace that he was interested in: the Pelagius Wing.

One of his contacts got in touch with someone who knew the Wing inside and out. That someone, Jaree-Ra maintained, was sure they could find some dirt on Vicaimo in there—the only problem being that it was allegedly haunted. The palace staff were so terrified of the Pelagius Wing that they only let the servants into its halls to clean it once a year, but where some might have shied away from such a prospect, Jaree-Ra saw the opportunity to turn the place upside down without so much as a speck of suspicion. The others' fear would provide them with all the time in the world to search for anything they could find, and as long as they moved as a group, any supernatural concerns should be minimal.

"Should" was an interesting word, to be sure. It was clear that Jaree-Ra was not a very superstitious man when it came to anything less than daedra, but, in a way, Hrolf could see his reasoning. An abandoned wing of the Blue Palace—where the Jarl of Solitude herself rested her weepy head—was still a much safer locale than Solitude's sewers, haunted or not. Its lack of patrols would make clearing its dusty halls a breeze. The only problem was that spirits were very much a real concern, and should Hrolf and his fellows encounter one, they would be next to helpless to stop it.

Jaree-Ra was sure that there were no such spirits in the Pelagius Wing, though. All of the information Jaree-Ra could find pointed to the Wing being truly abandoned—a place where only spiders in darkened corners dwelled—but surely stepping into those age-old halls would tell a different story. Still, Hrolf would rather deal with ghosts than stay in the dark about that cat-eyed butcher for an hour longer than necessary. And Kotag...

Hrolf clenched his fists on his way through the hollows of the Blackbloods' lair. He would make things right. Kotag would have his day.

But right now, Hrolf had other concerns. He needed to find Deeja. After what happened with Captain Hargar, saying Jaree-Ra was left in a sour mood would be a grave understatement. The anger on his face roused Gulum-Ei's warning from the recesses of his mind, and though Deeja cared for her brother deeply, Gulum-Ei might have been right about Jaree-Ra. For Deeja's sake, Hrolf didn't want to believe it.

Mara's mercy, where is she?

She was in none of the common spaces he had the time and wherewithal to search. That left one spot: her room. Hrolf didn't want to intrude on her space, but he needed some answers. He needed to know why Deeja lashed out like she did when it looked like Captain Hargar was truly trying to make amends. She was receptive at first, but then came the venomous hisses and cursing until it all spiraled hopelessly out of control. It was a good thing he could grab her and the others could keep the Captain away. Only the gods knew what would have happened if the struggle ran its course.

The floorboards creaked underfoot as he stepped back onto the repurposed ship, passing through planked corridors until he reached her heavy wooden door. He knocked once. Nothing. Was she not there? He tried again. Still nothing.

"Deeja?" he called out through the door. "Are you in there?"

A tiny voice answered back, closer to the door than he thought she would be: "Go away."

"It's Hrolf," he said. "I want to talk."

More silence. Pressing an ear to the door yielded next to nothing.