Moonlight flashed on steel, and the huntress had a dagger in hand, raised between her and the doorway. Liv jerked back in shock. She wasn’t aware of putting her weight down on her broken ankle until she felt a sudden, piercing pain. With a cry, she crumpled to the floor. No one had ever drew a weapon on her before.

“You should have stayed in bed,” Wren hissed, lowering her blade. “Don’t move.” Instead of coming over to help, the woman strode over to one of the wall shelves on which so many strange objects had been displayed. Her hand hovered over the statue of a woman, carved from white stone.

“What are you doing?” Liv asked her. “You shouldn’t be in here.” From somewhere down the hall, she heard voices and footsteps.

“No time,” Wren muttered to herself. She hesitated an instant more, then scooped the statue up with one hand and cradled it under her arm. For a moment, she seemed to be waiting for something to happen, but the room was silent and still. The dark-haired hunter breathed a sigh of relief, though Liv wasn’t certain what she could have been afraid of.

“Put that back!” Liv told her. “It isn’t yours.”

“It doesn’t belong to your baron, either,” Wren said, turning away from the shelf. She strode quickly across the room to the window. “It was stolen, and brought here from Varuna, across the sea. I’m just taking it back.” She sat on the window, lifted her legs, and swivelled so that they swung out, dangling into the night. “I’m sorry you woke up tonight, girl,” she said. “They’re going to blame you for this, and you don’t deserve it.”

“Wait!” Liv cried out. Wren’s body, her clothing, and even the statue all turned dark, glistening in the light of the moon and the rings as if she was wet. Then, her form collapsed in on itself, and before Liv could do anything, a bat was stretching its wings in the open window. The statue was gone, the huntress was gone, and then the bat flew off into the night.

Liv used the wall to lever herself up onto one foot, but her ankle was still throbbing.

“What’s going on in here?” One of the castle guardsmen barged into the room, carrying an oil lantern encased in glass. Warm light flooded the room, driving away the shadows.

“She stole something!” Liv cried, pointing into the night. “I couldn’t stop her, and I fell down because of my ankle, and then she turned into a bat and went out the window!”

“You shouldn’t be up here, girl,” the guard said. “Turned into a bat? Nonsense.”

“Who is in here?” Baron Henry called, striding into the room. He wore a nightgown, with a heavy robe thrown over it, and carried a sheathed sword in his left hand. “The cook’s bastard?”

“I told you, she stole something,” Liv repeated, turning to the baron. “The statue. The white one of the woman. She said it came from across the ocean, and she was taking it back.”

Henry’s eyes widened, and he turned to the shelf. “Bring the light over here,” he commanded the guard, who hurried to comply. “It’s gone,” the baron said, running his hands over the empty place on the shelf, and looking down at the floor, as if the missing statue might have fallen. When he turned back to Liv, it was with cold eyes, and she shivered.

“Were you thinking to sell it, then? Search her,” he commanded the guard. The hall was filled with a growing commotion, now, as more guards arrived, and then Lady Julianne crowded in at the doorway. The guard seized Liv roughly, and patted his hands over her shift.

“She doesn’t have anything,” the guard said, but kept a painful grip on Liv’s arm.

“What did you do with the statue?” Henry demanded, taking two steps across the room toward her. He was more angry than she had ever seen before.

“I didn’t do anything!” Liv protested. “The hunter woman was here, her name was Wren. She came in the window after Bill opened it, and then she took it.”

“The footman, Bill?” Julianne asked from the doorway.

Liv nodded. “Him! I heard him going up the stairs, so I went to see what he was doing, and he opened the window for her!”

“I think you had better have the servants’ quarters searched,” Lady Julianne suggested to her husband.

“Take her to the great hall,” Henry commanded the guard who had a hold of Liv. The rest of you men, wake the servants. Do not allow them to dress, or to take anything from their rooms. Take them immediately to the hall, as well, and keep them there.” The guards rushed off, and Liv found herself half-dragged to the door.

“Move it, girl,” the guard holding her said.

“I can’t walk on my ankle,” she protested, hopping to keep up with him.

“Just carry her,” Henry said.

“My lord!” Master Grenfell was in the hallway now, trying to get around the guards and into the Room of Curiosities. “What happened?” The guard threw Liv over his shoulder, and she cried out from the painful jostling her ankle took.

“The statue of Ractia,” the baron answered. “Someone has stolen it, and the cook’s bastard was involved somehow. Look, Kazamir, there’s something left on the window sill…”

Liv tried to listen for more, but she was carried helplessly to the stairs, and then down, bouncing at every step the guard took. He wasn’t at all being gentle, and she let him know. “My ankle’s broken!” she coomplained.

“Thieves don’t have any right to whine,” the guard grunted. “Now shut it, or you’ll feel the back of my hand.”

In the great hall, Liv was roughly deposited onto one of the benches used for the low tables. It would have been better if she had Rose to hug, or if one of the castle cats came by, but she had to sit alone, with the guard glaring at her. She hadn’t been there more than a few moments before Gretta, her mother, and all the other servants were herded in by the baron’s guards.

“Liv!” her mother cried out, rushing forward to her. “Where were you?”

“I woke up and you weren’t there,” Liv said. “And I heard something in the hall. So I-”

“No talking,” Baron Henry said, hurrying in with his wife and Master Mage Grenfell at his side. “First Footman,” he said, addressing Archibald. “We will be questioning each of the servants alone, starting with the scullion. I expect you to help the guards keep order.”

“Of course, Baron,” Archibald said, standing straight even in his night clothes. “You heard the lord,” he said, rounding on the other servants. “Sit to yourselves quietly. So long as you have done no wrong against this house, you will be back in your beds shortly.”

“Why do you want to talk to Liv?” Mama asked. “She hasn’t done anything. And she’s hurt.”

“It will just be a moment, Miss Brodbeck,” Master Grenfell said, but Liv didn’t think he sounded very certain about it. “Come along, Liv.”

“They wouldn’t even let us take her crutch,” Gretta complained. “I don’t know what all this is about, but that isn’t right.”

The guards, even the ones who were normally friendly, like Piers, who always was hanging about the kitchens looking for a snack, were cold and brusque. Liv found herself half pushed, half carried through the castle to Baron Henry’s solar, where she was placed in a chair opposite the baron. The room would have been comfortable, with a thick rung and tapestries on the walls, if she did not feel like a prisoner. Master Grenfell stood at his lord’s left shoulder, and a moment later Lady Julianne rushed in, as well.

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“You should go back to our chambers,” Henry protested.

“I’m in no danger from a young girl,” his wife argued back. “This is my family as well, now. I should be here for this.”

Henry sighed. “Very well. Kazamir, pull a chair over for her.” Once Julianne had settled herself into a seat, all three turned back to Liv. The guard took up a position at the door.

Master Grenfell had taken out his little leather book, again, and turned to a new page with his quill and bottle of ink ready, all set on Baron Henry’s desk. “Tell us what happened tonight,” he instructed her.

“I woke because my leg hurt,” Liv said, “and because Mama wasn’t in bed, and Charlie had left, so I was cold. But then I heard something in the hall, so I got up to see what it was, and it was someone with a candle going to the servants’ stairs.”

“Did you see who it was?” Grenfell asked her.

“Not then,” Liv said, shaking her head. “But later. It took me a long time to get up the stairs, and I thought I’d lost him, but then the window was open, so I could feel the wind from outside.”

“Which window?” the mage asked.

“The one in the Room of Curiosities,” Liv said. “The same one that was open this morning, when I brought you your breakfast.”

“There was a window open this morning?” Henry asked Grenfell, turning to the mage with a frown. It was a relief that he was no longer focused on her.

“When I entered the room, yes,” he replied, writing carefully at the same time.

“And the bat flew out this morning, remember?” Liv asked. When Grenfell nodded, she continued. “I think the bat was the woman.”

“Stop,” the mage said, holding up one hand. “We shall do this in good order, in an organized fashion. You followed the wind to the Room of Curiosities. What then?”

“Bill came rushing out, and I put my back against the wall, but he didn’t even see me,” Liv said. “I think he was scared, because he was rushing down the hall for the stairs, and he didn’t even look.”

“You entered the room after that?” Grenfell asked.

Liv nodded. “And the woman from the fair was there. The one who carried me to the carriage - Wren. She had a dagger, and she took the statue of the lady, and when I told he she shouldn’t do that, she said it had been stolen from Va-room-a.” She pronounced the word as carefully as she could, because it was a strange one to her.

“The western continent?” Lady Julianne broke in. “Was this one of your father’s prizes, Henry?”

“Set that aside for the moment, if you would, my lady,” Grenfell said. “This woman. How did she leave, Liv?”

“She went out the window,” Liv explained. “It was very strange. She got all dark and shiny, like she was water at night, and then she was gone, and the statue too. Just a bat was left, and I think it was the one from this morning, and it flew away and then that was it. The guard came.”

“This story is ridiculous,” Baron Henry said. “A woman turning into a bat? Where did you hide the statue, girl?”

“If you will forgive me, my lord,” Master Grenfell broke in. “There are several elements of what this girl has said that I can confirm personally. There was a woman by that name, a foreigner, at the festival, and she did help us bring young miss Brodbeck back to the castle. There was a window open this morning that should not have been, and a bat that flew away when I entered the room. At the time, I thought one of the maids had been airing the room out, and simply neglected to close the window, but now I am not so certain. I would like to know what has been found in the footman’s possessions, and to speak to him, as well.”

“Go get the footman,” Henry ordered the guard standing at the door. “And anything that was found in his room.”

The horologe in the corner of the solar struck the hour while they waited for the guard to return - Liv counted three bells. She shifted uncomfortably in the chair she’d been given: her ankle was throbbing something fierce now, and she was afraid she’d made it worse than it already was by standing on it.

“Let me be perfectly clear, girl,” Henry said, once the chiming had died down. “If I discover that you were involved in a theft from this castle, I will put both you and your mother out on the streets, and I will have your hand in the bargain.”

“I didn’t take anything, m’lord,” Liv said, keeping her eyes lowered. Her grandparents were dead. Where would Mama and her go, if they couldn’t live in the castle anymore? She tucked her hands underneath her legs to hide them.

“That has yet to be determined,” the baron said.

“She’s wearing nothing but a shift and hose,” Lady Julianne broke in. “By the Trinity, Henry, where could she possibly have hidden it? And with a broken ankle? Don’t frighten the girl.”

The baron opened his mouth to reply, but before he could speak the guards hustled in the footman, Bill.

“Was there anything found in his room?” Henry asked, and the guard stepped forward, holding out his hand. In the light of the lanterns, gold glinted in his palm.

“Five Crowns, m’lord,” the guard said, handing the coins over to the baron.

Henry’s eyes narrowed. “Where does a footman get five crowns, boy?” he asked.

“I’ve been saving them up,” Bill muttered.

“You make ten and seven pennies a day,” Henry shot back. “At that wage, it would take you-”

“One hundred and forty-seven days,” Master Mage Grenfell supplied.

“Near a hundred and fifty days to save that,” Henry continued. “Five crowns saved on a Footman’s wage.” He snorted. “Tell me where the money came from, Bill, and do not lie to me. Do it now, and I will not take your hand. You have my word.”

The footman’s face drained entirely of blood, and Liv didn’t blame him: she believed every word Baron Henry said. She shuddered at the thought of her own arm ending in a stump, raw and bleeding. The idea of it was horrible.

“I didn’t steal nothing,” Bill said, crumbling. “Please, you have to believe me, m’lord!” he begged. “She just told me to open the window, three nights running!”

“She?” Grenfell leaned forward, quill pen at the ready. “Describe the woman. This is the person who gave you the coins, yes? What was her name?”

“She never told me,” Bill said, shaking his head. “She had black hair, and a fur cloak. She looked like a hunter or a trapper, and her voice was odd.”

“Odd how?” Henry asked.

“Something about how she said things,” the boy told them. “It just wasn’t quite right. Like when she made a ‘w’ sound, it was more like a ‘v,” Bill said. “And other things like that. Just not how it should have been.”

“And did you open the window yesterday evening?” Grenfell asked. Bill nodded miserably. “Did you open it again tonight?”

“I’m sorry,” the footman pleaded. “I didn’t know she was going to do nothing.”

“If that is true you are a fool,” Henry said. “A foreign woman pays you to open the castle windows, to a room that you know contains rare and precious artifacts, and you did not even consider that she might be a thief? I think it more likely the coins were enough for you to put any other thought out of your mind. You are released from service, William. I promised I would not take your hand if you gave me the truth, and so I shall not, but that is the extent of my mercy. I recommend that when the snows melt, you seek your fortune elsewhere. Take him and throw him out the gates,” Henry instructed the guard, who grabbed Bill and dragged him from the solar.

“Varuna,” Master Grenfell murmured. “That fits, my lord. And the blood on the window sill. There should be records of where your father acquired that particular artifact that we can consult.”

“Do that as soon as you’ve gotten dressed,” Henry instructed. “I want every guard we have in the streets, and I want that woman found.”

“If she truly is what we suspect,” Grenfell protested, “they will not find her. She will simply fly south to a port and find a ship to take her west.”

“I will write a letter to Duke Thomas and send it immediately,” Henry said. “He can search every ship that leaves. We will find her.”

The mage blew gently across his book, to dry the ink. “It is said that the children of Ractia can take many shapes,” he cautioned. “I think you should prepare yourself for disappointment, my lord. I will send word to the guild, so that we might consult with an expert. I also think we should take inventory of everything in that room, to be certain the statue is the only thing missing.”

“While all of this is no doubt important,” Lady Julianne said, rising, “I do not think this young girl needs to be present any longer.”

Henry frowned, but then nodded. “As you say.” He regarded Liv the way she might look at an ant on the kitchen table before she killed it. “I am pleased that you were loyal to this house, girl,” he said. “I will see that you are rewarded for it. Go along with the Baroness, now.”

“Yes, m’lord,” Liv said, and carefully rose from her chair.

“Here, take my arm, child,” Lady Julienne said. “Your name is Liv, yes? Such a pretty name.” By the time they had made their way out of the solar and into the hallway, the baron and Master Grenfell were back to speaking in hushed tones about the theft.

“Thank you, m’lady,” Liv said. “I can make my way back downstairs,” she offered. It felt very uncomfortable to be leaning on the lady of the castle.

“Nonsense,” Julienne dismissed the idea. “I will return you to your mother. It’s what I would want someone to do, if my child was hurt,” she said. “And I have something to speak to you about, as well. I am told that you are a bastard, Liv.”

“Yes, m’lady.” Liv hunched her shoulders in, and stared at the floor of the hallway.

“What a coincidence,” the baroness said. “I am, as well.”