when Riona told him he was disgraced and tried to kill Lord Rannagon. If that’s true, then it’s a pretty serious crime. They could execute him for that.”
Flell jumped up. “What? No—for the gods’ sakes, tell me it’s not true!”
“It ain’t,” Bran snapped. “Shut up, Gern. Yeh’ve got no bloody idea what yer goin’ on about. Sit down, Flell.”
Flell sat. “What’s going on, Bran? How d’you know it’s not true?”
“I’ve been moved to a different squad,” said Bran. “I’m workin’ in the prison district now, and I promise yeh that if Arren was in there I’d know about it. All right?”
She relaxed a little. “Well, if he’s not at home and he’s not in prison, where is he?”
“I think he’s probably gone to visit his parents down in Idun,” said Gern.
Flell shook her head. “I went to see them before I came up to the city. They haven’t seen him. They don’t even know about Eluna. I don’t like this. He wouldn’t just run off again, not after what happened last time.”
“I saw him right after he got back,” Gern said. “He looked terrible. He was dirty and he’d grown a beard, and there were bruises on his face, like someone’d been hitting him. I couldn’t understand what was wrong with him. He wouldn’t talk to me—just disappeared. It must’ve been right before he went to the Eyrie. I’ve never seen him look like that before. It scared me.”
Flell stood up. “Well then, we’ve got to find out what’s going on,” she said sternly. “Come on.”
“Where to?” said Gern, putting down his drink.
“To Arren’s house,” said Flell. “I know where he keeps the spare key. Even if he’s not at home, there could be a clue there. Come on, let’s go.”
“What, now?” said Bran.
“Yes, now. Come on, damn it! What if he’s in trouble? He’s our friend, and he needs our help.”
Bran and Gern got up and went with her without much argument, abandoning their drinks and following Flell as she left the tavern and walked toward the market district at high speed. Thrain jumped down off her shoulder and ran ahead, her claws skittering on the wood beneath her.
When they reached Arren’s house they found it cold and still. The front door was closed and the windows shuttered. Flell, though, lifted Thrain over her head, holding her as high as she could. The griffin chick, balanced on her partner’s hands, rooted around among the thatch over the door with her beak, as if looking for worms. Eventually she gave a triumphant chirp and pulled out a small oilcloth pouch. Inside was a key. Flell put it into the lock and turned it. But the door wouldn’t open. She pushed hard, but it refused to move more than an inch. “It’s stuck,” she said.
Bran reached past her and shoved on the door, but without result. “Must be blocked from the other side,” he said.
“Then someone must be in there,” said Flell. She put the key back into the pouch and hid it among the thatch. “What do we do now?”
“Shouldn’t be a problem,” said Bran. “I’ve done this sort of thing before. Outta the way please, miss.”
Flell stood aside and the big guard drew his sword. He poked it through the gap at the edge of the door, and then lifted it hard and pushed. There was a thud from the other side, and the door swung open.
“There yeh go,” Bran said triumphantly.
It was gloomy inside the house. Some light was coming in through the back windows, but there were no candles or lamps burning. The air smelt stale and there was a layer of dust on the furniture. But it was plain that it had been lived in recently: there were dirty dishes on the table and a fire smouldering in the hearth. The hammock had been slept in, and there was a stained tunic hanging on the back of the chair.
There was also a large bowl on the table with a cloth over it. Flell wandered over and lifted the edge of the cloth, and the bowl proved to be full of water. “What—” she began.
“Don’t touch that!”
They turned. Arren had appeared in the entrance to the stable. He was grubby and dishevelled and his face was obscured by an unkempt beard. Never particularly tanned, he now looked as if he had just climbed out of a tomb.
Flell stared at him, horror-struck. “Arren!”
He stood there, swaying slightly. “Hello, Flell.”
She started toward him. “Arren, for gods’ sakes, are you