CRACK! YOWL! THAWHUMP!

The rowboat came down upon the cat’s back. Hard. It struck the harness dead on and cracked one of the gems. The effect was instant. The cat fell over, unconscious, and quickly shrank down to its original size. Suddenly, the oversized feline was back to being a regular housecat.

Roland ignored the cat for now. He jumped off the bookcase he’d been standing on to reach the boat and rushed towards the library’s entrance. ‘We need to get these doors closed!’

‘What doors?’ Holsley raised an eyebrow. He didn’t see two doors anymore. They were just two pieces of wood that had been broken off their hinges when the cat had forced its way into the room.

‘Just secure them.’ Roland held the first one up against the frame, gesturing for Holsley to do the same with the other. ‘I’ll topple over a few bookcases and trap them in place. Should buy us some time.’

Holsley didn’t argue. Instead, he waited at the doors patiently as the rogue approached the two closest bookshelves on either side and pushed them over lengthways. They each came down with a thundering crash that was sure to get some attention. The shelves created a makeshift wall blocking the doors from opening.

‘Time bought,’ said Holsley, wiping the sweat from his brow.

Nearby, the cat let out a long exhale. They had bashed it good, but Holsley couldn’t help feeling sorry for the poor thing. It was just a cat, after all. It wasn’t doing anything that cats didn’t do.

‘We should kill it.’ Roland drew his dagger menacingly.

‘No!’ Holsley forced the dagger down. ‘We dealt with it. I’m not going to kill a cat.’

‘No, you’re right,’ replied Roland, turning to him with a smile. ‘We should kidnap it.’

‘What is it with you and kidnapping things?’ Holsley asked.

‘Hear me out,’ said Roland, kneeling towards the fallen creature. ‘You can talk to animals with one spell and charm it with another, right?’

Holsley did the maths in his head. ‘I think so?’

‘I bet this cat knows all sorts of stuff Love doesn’t want us figuring out,’ he continued. ‘Plus, we can use it as a bargaining chip against her Ladyship. We just need something to wrap it in.’

‘Oh, I have a scarf!’ Holsley dove into his satchel and retrieved the scarf that the old woman had given him. ‘Would this work?’

With a grin, Roland took it and wrapped it tightly around the cat. He bound it like a newborn babe, making sure its head was poking out, then created a makeshift backpack out of what remained of the scarf’s length.

‘Now we need a way out.’

It became quickly apparent that there were no other exits in the room. The only door in and out appeared to be the double doors they had barricaded. Fortunately, there were windows, but they were narrow arrow slits set in the stone. A person could peer out, but they’d never be able to fit through.

‘Holly, I need to ring.’

Holsley wasn’t paying attention.

‘Look at all this stuff.’ He bent low to inspect the bottom shelf of a bookcase, marvelling at the little ships encased inside the glass bottles. It suddenly occurred to him that each of the twenty bottles held the same ship. A massive galley with blackened wood, ivory sales, and a figurehead of a skeleton holding a scythe.

‘The Diamond of Death,’ Holsley said, reading the plaque aloud. ‘Wow, she certainly has a lot of models of this ship?’

‘Wait, what did you say?’

Roland bound across the room to him. The rogue stopped short of the shelves and leafed through the bottles as if his life depended on it. Then, he extended his investigation to the rest of the room.

His eyes went wide. ‘She knows.’

‘Knows what?’ asked Holsley. ‘About the Diamond of Death?’

‘Yeah, Love, she knows about—’

The doors rattled, and the pair suddenly heard the furious voices of houseguards on the other side. They banged on them relentlessly, trying to force their way in. Roland didn’t waste any more time; he grabbed hold of Holsley and brought him towards the arrow-slit windows.

‘We don’t know what’s on the other side!?’ Holsley exclaimed, fully aware that they were nowhere near the ground floor. If the wall was smooth outside that window, it’d be the end of their adventure right there and then. ‘We’ll die at this height.’

‘As opposed to what?’ asked Roland. ‘They’re breaking in, and I don’t think it’s for a cup of tea and a chat.’

With an exasperated sigh, Holsley touched the ring on his finger, just to make sure it was there, and slipped through the arrow slit. It was just big enough to get his lute through. The sudden view down was dizzying, and the wind blew fiercely, sending his hair aflutter. He propped himself up on the ledge below the window, flattened himself against the wall, and held on for dear life.

Roland took the ring through the arrow slit and quickly joined him on the ledge. There, he found the young bard staring paralysed at the view down. Roland placed a reassuring hand on his friend’s chest to steady him.

‘You’re doing fine, Holly,’ he shouted over the wind. ‘We’re going to climb up, and we’re going to take it nice and slow.’

‘Up!?’

The doors inside came open with a bang, sending the bookcases away, and several houseguards filed out into the room. Holsley couldn’t see what was happening, but Roland had a front-row view from his position on the ledge.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

‘She’s there,’ Roland said through gritted teeth.

‘Who?’

Roland’s eyes met with Holsley’s. ‘Love.’

The rogue watched as the elegant Love came sauntering into the room, followed shortly by the rest of her fanciful gown. Her face was indifferent as she scanned every detail, her eyes wandering until they met Roland’s.

‘There you are, darling,’ she cooed as she stepped closer. ‘My, that’s an impressive trick. Did you squeeze through this narrow slit-like you slipped out of your manacles back at the gallows?’

‘What’s it to you?’ Roland sneered through the gap.

‘Oh, nothing,’ Love said, sauntering closer. ‘It’s just that I used to have a ring that could accomplish feats like that. I was rather beginning to wonder where it might have ended up. Also, I don’t suppose you know the whereabouts of my beloved Tiacat. I would very much like her back in one piece.’

‘Do you know!’ Roland asked very suddenly. Holsley blinked, a little taken aback by this abrupt change in the conversation. ‘Why do you have a room dedicated to the Diamond of Death?’

Love smiled seductively and dared a few steps closer, pushing past a few of the houseguards who had moved to make a protective wall between her and the rogue. She came to within fifteen feet of the window, eyes fluttering, staring into Roland’s soul. ‘This is my grandfather’s room. He was a little obsessed if you could tell.’

‘Grandfather?’ Holsley whispered. ‘That guy must be like a thousand years old.’

‘Do. You. Know.’ Roland urged again, this time more forcefully.

Love seemed to be soaking in the pleasure of frustrating Roland; both boys could feel it on this side of the stonework.

‘My grandfather, Ebnon Ravenpeak the Second, was a privateer.’ Love stopped short of Roland. ‘He chased the Diamond of Death across the ocean but never did manage to catch it. Then, one day, for seemingly no reason, the ship vanished along with its crew, its captain, and the millions of gold in treasure it supposedly held in its cargo bay.’

Roland sneered.

‘You’ve seen that ship, haven’t you, Roland?’ Love stared at him, a lost fascination playing in the pupils of her eyes. ‘You know where it is, don’t you?’

‘No,’ replied Roland. ‘I don’t.’

‘Ah, but you know what it is then if you haven’t seen it, darling,’ Love continued, unabated. ‘It’s the second marker, isn’t it?’

Roland’s lips formed a tight line.

‘That silence says it all,’ said Love, practically swooning. ‘My grandfather died trying to find that ship, and to this day, no one has ever seen it again. Except, I suspect, the crew of the Gleeful Goat, including Berry Kellam herself and, just maybe, you.’

Holsley listened intently, absorbing every detail and trying to put the pieces together in his head. He guessed they were talking about the Golden Keep, but he wasn’t sure how that, this strange ship, and the ruby all connected together.

Love’s face took on a sinister light as seriousness drew across it like a pair of curtains. ‘I know that the ruby is from Dlyn Whitmore’s treasure, confirming you found it, but what I don’t know is yours and Berry Kellam’s place in all this. How did you find it? Was it her? Would you at least tell me that?’

‘Dlyn Whitmore,’ Holsley repeated soundlessly. Why did that name sound so familiar to him?

‘No.’ Roland straightened, the drizzle and wind howling around him threateningly. ‘You won’t get an answer out of me, and you won’t get an answer out of her either. I don’t think you actually know a thing, do you? All you have is speculation.’

‘I find it a funny coincidence that, after all these years, some scoundrel on a rowboat finds themselves on my shore and just so happens to have a ruby confirmed to be one of three stolen by the bloodiest pirate of all time.’ Love was so close now that he could smell the fragrance wafting off her. It was repulsively sweet. ‘You hate this city. You could have gone anywhere, but you came back to Tressa. At first, I thought it wasn’t by choice, but now, I’m beginning to suspect something else. Why did you come back here, darling?’

‘You’re right, it wasn’t my choice.’

‘Then, whose was it?’

‘I’ve got it!’ Holsley snapped his fingers, then righted himself on the ledge with a yelp. ‘I know who Dlyn Whitmore is. That’s the Merciless Marauder, right? The bloodiest and meanest pirate to ever sail the world.’

‘What’s with the string around your neck?’ Roland nodded towards the unflattering string necklace Love was sporting, and again, Holsley reeled at the shift in conversation. ‘It certainly doesn’t go with your outfit.’

‘A simple keepsake,’ replied Love, touching it. ‘Nothing more.’

‘That’s a lie, isn’t it?’

‘It certainly is,’ Love cooed.

There was nothing more to be gained here.

‘Let’s go.’ Roland turned to Holsley then and shifted himself up the ledge.

‘Uh,’ Holsley replied but reluctantly followed, albeit with slower and more careful hand placements.

‘Where do you think you’ll run, Roland?’ Love called to them through the slit. ‘We’ll find you on the walls. Don’t think otherwise, darling.’

***

The pair climbed, hand over hand, until there was no more reason to climb.

They ascended to the tallest part of the keep, right to the top of a rising tower, and took some time to catch their breath. The sight was glorious this high, if not a little obscured by the drizzle. The city sprawled out beneath them.

To the north, they could see the far-reaching waters and wonder what secrets lay beyond the horizon. To the south, they could see mountains, forests, and the rest of the known world.

Tressa stood at the end of everything, right at the edge. A person travelling throughout the Further Kingdoms could go no farther than this nor any higher than the keep. Holsley and Roland were as far north as one could go and as high as anyone could be. They were literally on top of the word.

‘Why didn’t we climb down?’ Holsley asked after he had thoroughly caught his breath, leaning against the slope of the tower’s roof.

The wind whined about them, and the sun pitched over the horizon. Night was upon them now, which might make things easier if they were lucky.

‘We can make our own route down from up here,’ said Roland, dangling his feet over the staggering drop below. ‘There are a lot of different ways to escape from the keep. I’m hoping with night coming that they won’t notice us slip away.’

‘Are we going to talk about what just happened with Love?’ Holsley asked above the wind. ‘What she’s really after from you?’

The rogue didn’t reply immediately. Instead, he stared off into the horizon.

‘It’s something to do with the Golden Keep, isn’t it?’ asked Holsley. ‘When I was in the dungeons, Kythos was looking for me because he thought I’d stolen the ruby. That was Fox, though, right? I just don’t understand how it connects to all of this or why you want it back so desperately?’

‘I can’t tell you, Holly.’ Roland turned his gaze upon Holsley, and the bard thought then that he was being sincere. ‘It’s something I’m keeping to myself.’

‘Why?’ Holsley asked. ‘Why can’t you tell me?’

Roland didn’t reply.

‘What did Love mean by the second marker?’ asked Holsley. ‘What does that mean?’

Again, Roland didn’t reply.

‘You found the Merciless Marauder’s treasure, didn’t you?’ asked Holsley. ‘That’s what the Golden Keep is, isn’t it? It’s where his treasure is.’

‘I need…a little longer,’ Roland replied, turning away. ‘I’m sorry.’

Holsley didn’t know what to say, so he just sat there silently for a few minutes, watching the sun disappear over the horizon. His mind raced. Maybe it was because Roland was protecting him that he didn’t tell him anything. That was plausible. Or, perhaps, he was under some strange curse that didn’t allow him to speak about it. Holsley knew such things existed in a world full of magic.

There was another possible reason, though, and Holsley had a hard time vocalising it even inside of his own head. Perhaps it was simpler than any of that, maybe it was because Roland plainly didn’t trust Holsley with his secrets.

The young bard glanced over at the rogue, who was still brooding.

Was it possible that Roland didn’t trust him? After everything, after rushing to Tressa, risking his life to save him from the noose, rushing about the city like a madman, and getting himself into all sorts of danger that the very friend he was trying to save couldn’t trust him enough to share his secrets.

Holsley tried to push the idea from his mind.