Noble Assassin

Chapter 8.4 (Feyn's Task)

"Are you sure this is it?" Rizelle whispered.

"Of course not, but this looks pretty much like a study door, don't you think?" He tried each of the two keys they'd had made, while Rizelle glanced around uneasily, resisting the urge to scratch at the wig she wore. They'd passed several people on the way here, but had thankfully managed to avoid close scrutiny.

With a smooth click, the second key unlocked the door, and they hurried in. The study was large, and moonlit through the floor-to-ceiling window at the opposite wall. Before it stood a sprawling oak desk. A ring of armchairs surrounded a fireplace – currently cold – to one side, while the other was lined with cabinets and shelves bearing books and ornaments.

Now, we find the secret vault. But first, she whipped the wig off her head with relief. The disguise would not make much difference if they were caught here; it wouldn't hold under inspection.

Feyn moved to the shelves, and Rizelle searched the desk, dropping the wig onto its polished surface. Instead of being freestanding, it was built into the floor, and had three drawers on either side, containing documents and writing materials. She examined its every inch, feeling for hidden switches, and tapping the wood.

At the back, she noticed a difference in the sound of her knock. She tapped it again. Hollow. Noting the position, she returned to the front, and pulled the drawers behind the spot completely off their tracks, setting them on the plush rug.

"You've found something?" Feyn came up beside her.

Rizelle pushed on the board at the back of the space she'd opened. After trying several spots, a small, square section gave way, sliding back and then downward to reveal a cavity. A corner of her lips twitched upward in triumph.

Finding a tiny lever inside, she pulled it. Seconds later, a small snick came from their right, which Feyn immediately proceeded to investigate. Rizelle, however, lingered, having glimpsed a sheaf of papers. Curious, she drew them out, her eyes widening with shock and horror as she skimmed over them. Apparently, Lord Calthen had some dark secrets – darker than she'd expect of a middling noble. Perhaps she should show this to Feyn, later.

She tucked the papers into her tunic pocket, restored the desk to its original state, and joined Feyn, who stood before a large, silver framed mirror that had hinged outward. Behind it was an iron door, and he was attempting to jam a key into it, unsuccessfully.

"The other one?" she prompted.

He shook his head. "It's not working. Maybe neither of those keys was for the vault."

For a moment, she was struck silent. Then she burst out, "So, everything we – I – did last week, and coming here today, all of it was for nothing? We can't get in?" Thankfully, she'd held on to enough sense not to yell. "We should leave now; this whole trip is a lost gamble."

He was silent, rummaging in his pockets while she railed at him in heated whispers. Pulling out a slim leather case and flipping it open, he revealed slim metal tools. Rizelle broke off as soon as she saw them. He inserted a pair of the lock picks into the keyhole and skilfully manoeuvred them about.

"If you knew how to pick locks, why did I have to get the keys in the first place?" She waved her arms out, frustrated.

"Quiet a bit, will you? I'm trying to concentrate." He loosed a sigh. "I can't pick every lock I come across. Even now, I'm not sure I can do this one."

Edgily, she waited, every little while punctuated by a tiny metallic click, until finally, the door gave way.

The vault had about twenty chests, of varying sizes, and treasures lay in niches set into the walls: necklaces, rings and cufflinks bearing precious gemstones; jewel-encrusted goblets, knives and swords.