Through Stone and Sea - By Barb Hendee & J. C. Hendee Page 0,110

to learn what Reine was doing here, and how she and the royal family were connected to the Stonewalkers. If they guarded the texts, and could somehow move them to and from the guild every day—over a distance of three days’ shore-side journey—what purpose did the duchess serve here?

Wynn couldn’t think of a way to find the answers—not without getting herself arrested. There was no point in lingering.

Grimacing, Wynn headed back to her own inn.

Chane awoke and lay quietly for an instant, uncertain where he was. The previous night filtered back into his thoughts. He rose quickly, swinging his legs over the bed’s edge, and looked around, still dazed from dormancy.

“Shade?”

She was not present, but then how could she be? He had barely reached the inn on the edge of dawn, just in time to bolt into his room and fall dormant upon the bed. His clothes had dampened the blankets, as he had not bothered to undress. He picked up his cloak and left. The instant he stepped outside, he called out.

“Shade!”

Outside the inn, two husky- looking dwarves glanced his way, but Chane did not care. He looked for Shade, at a loss for how to find her, let alone whether she had yet returned.

The last of evening activities still filled the port. Another ship had docked far out on one pier. Its strange curled prow and central row of towering triangular sails caught his attention. Long ship’s oars were raised upright along its rail.

Dwarven dockworkers were hauling huge bales and barrels down the pier from the vessel. Among them were short and dark-skinned Suman passengers or crew in long, flowing vestments and cloth head wraps. Though they stood a head taller than the dwarves, they were not as tall as Wynn’s Suman confederate, Domin il’Sänke.

The night was even darker than the last, the moon still hidden behind the peninsula’s high peak. Tomorrow, it would be invisible, even when it crested—a new moon. As the night was his world, he used to pay more attention to such things. Right now, he did not care.

“Shade?”

A low huff reached his ears.

Chane twisted left at the sound, and Shade came padding down the street. To his surprise, he felt a pang of guilt that she had been locked out all day. But she trotted right past him.

“Shade?”

The dog kept on, heading for the main road—the one that led to the lift.

“Get back here!” he called.

Shade paused at the corner, looking over her shoulder at him, and then slipped out of sight.

Chane bolted back into the inn and ran for his room. After retrieving his packs, he tossed coins on the counter for the innkeeper, waiting only long enough to see that they were sufficient. Then he rushed out.

When he rounded the corner, there was Shade, sitting at the bottom of the loading ramp.

A pack of dwarves with cargo and a pair of Sumans in garish colors approached. All of them stopped at the sight of a “wolf” in their way.

“Dhêb!” snarled a full-bearded Suman.

When the man reached for the hilt of an arced sword cradled in his waist wrap, Chane pushed through.

“She is mine!” he said, stepping in front of Shade. “She will not cause any trouble.”

One dwarf with hair cropped to bristles grimaced at him. He whispered something to his closest companion, who in turn spoke directly to the pair of Sumans, presumably in their own tongue. Chane glanced back.

Shade wandered up to the lift under the suspicious eyes of what had to be the stationmaster. The dwarf stood silent, holding the gate open. Shade boarded with a disgruntled rumble and squatted in the platform’s rear corner.

Chane stood looking at her in frustration while one Suman argued fervently with his dwarven companions. Finally, Chane boarded, stepping in next to Shade, still wishing he could somehow demand an answer. Dockworkers loaded up the platform, piling bales and barrels and crates to such width and height that Chane grew nervous about the weight. He glared down at Shade.

Had she found anything or had she given up, insisting on returning to Wynn?

Amid the fuss her presence too often caused, he had no way to find out. He would have to bear the ride up before this belligerent beast gave the answer to Wynn.

At the first bell past supper, Wynn sat on her room’s floor holding the scroll’s case in both hands. The duchess wasn’t going anywhere tonight, and she felt at loose ends.

For two seasons at the guild she’d often sought little more than