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But when Gerard thought back to a few seemingly idle comments that Otto had made over a late supper only a week or so ago, comments that Gerard had assumed—or had he merely hoped?—were no more than appallingly tasteless jests …
Damn it, they had been jests. What else could they have been? Otto himself had laughed heartily when Gerard had remained still and silent in shock for too long, having actually imagined his emperor to be serious about them.
Better yet, rather than lingering on that offensive moment of humor, Otto had immediately switched to a different, far-more-palatable topic, to Gerard’s vast relief. They had said no more about it.
Why had Lorelei chosen this particular line of nonsense as her latest attempt to turn Gerard from his duty? Had someone else overheard their conversation that night and misunderstood what was happening between them?
“Lorelei…” he began.
A massive crash sounded behind them, followed by a deafening, animalistic roar of rage that shook the ground beneath their feet. Both partners spun around in unison, Gerard’s free hand falling instinctively to the hilt of his sword.
Massive grey stones the size of boulders hurtled outwards from a gaping new hole in the castle’s front wall, showering with lethal force across the wide expanse of water and sending ducks shrieking and flapping to escape. One pair of competitors was still clinging frantically to the bumpy side wall they’d been in the middle of climbing; neither of the other two pairs was visible until Gerard spotted two bodies floating limply in the water amidst the scattered debris. Whether unconscious or dead, that leading pair must have been thrown through the wall as punishment for disturbing the castle’s occupant—and he didn’t seem inclined to go back to sleep now he was rid of them.
As Gerard glimpsed ominous flashes of the massive creature behind that gap in the wall—and heard the screams of the second pair, still trapped somewhere within that building—his fingers clenched around the hilt of his sword. Still, he kept his voice steady. “Did you happen to find our next clue beneath that topiary?”
“Oh, now you want to focus and stop chatting?” Lorelei’s voice was sharp, but she held out the silver leaf she’d been clutching. “It was too dark to read under there, so I still haven’t seen it myself.”
Gerard shifted closer, until her shoulder brushed against his chest. “We’ll read it together.” Tantalizingly soft hair wafted against his cheek as he leaned closer, but he didn’t allow himself to flinch away.
A house built in spring but empty by fall;
I hold hopes and dreams but have no wall.
Curse the fae’s endless love of riddles! Half of Gerard’s mind was already busy working through defensive tactics; he didn’t have time to parse out clever wording, too.
His sword would do nothing in a situation like this except irritate the castle’s owner on the way to devouring them. Both pairs of competitors ahead of them had carried bows and arrows as weaponry, but none of those seemed to be slowing the creature down. Unless this final clue (Jovar help him, this had better be the final clue!) led them to a trebuchet of monumental size …
“Aha.” Lorelei’s announcement came out in a gust of relief. “Of course. Keeping with the theme!”
“Which is?” he prompted, one eye still on the castle ahead of them.
“Waterfowl, of course.” Shaking her head, she prowled forward along the lakeshore. “Apparently we’re looking for a nest.”
… Something far too small—even in this oversized setting—to hold any useful siege engines! Gerard bit back a growl of frustration. In any other situation where he was faced with an impossible threat with another soul at risk, he’d be ordering his partner to retreat for their own safety—but on this type of battlefield, Lorelei was the expert, and she’d only laugh if he ordered her to shelter behind him.
He had been hungry for a new type of challenge, hadn’t he? All those petty border skirmishes he’d been sent to quash over the years, none of them requiring any real thought or insight …
All those hours trapped in endless meetings of the privy council, listening to Otto’s self-aggrandizing monologues go on and on and fighting with all his might to maintain his patience, to remain a voice of reason without igniting the Emperor’s notorious temper so badly that Otto would dig in his feet and insist on having his way regardless of logic or common sense …
Jovar save him, Gerard would just have to find a damned nest.
Like the rest of this oversized garden, the curving line of the lakeshore was beautifully tended, with neatly trimmed grass leading from the water to the shell-lined pathway and from the other side of that pathway to the topiary border beyond. It should have been a simple matter to spot a nest perched anywhere along that shore … but as he scanned it, he saw nothing but green grass and the pale, empty path, studded by that arcing fountain.
Lorelei was already darting from one topiary bush to the next, ducking beneath each one to search within its shadows. He started forward automatically to join that exercise—but as another, even louder roar sounded from the castle, followed by a third flung body, Gerard’s whole body stiffened in place with a resistance borne from well-honed instinct.
Wrong strategy. Checking underneath every single bush would take time they didn’t have—and they hadn’t found the answer to their last clue by inspecting every duck on the lake.
So, what else in this pristine landscape could hide—or symbolize—a nest?
This time, when he scanned the path with a hunter’s gaze, he wasn’t searching for an actual nest of sticks, but for the shape of a nest … and his gaze landed, halfway along that path, on the large, veined-marble bowl of the fountain.
More catastrophic crashes sounded to his right as even more of the castle wall exploded outwards. With no time left for hesitation, Gerard lunged forward into a run. Lorelei made a startled sound behind him, but he didn’t pause his thundering race down the path. Small pieces of shell crunched and sprayed from beneath his feet; he didn’t allow himself to trip or slide.
He had achieved every improbable target he had fought for in his life. He would not fail now, with Lorelei’s life at stake.
The mounting chaos to his right turned into a dull visual and aural blur as all of his attention narrowed in on that stone bowl, closer and closer to his reach with every running step. At first, all he could see was the sun-dappled surface of the fountain, kept at a continuous ripple by the steady arc of water soaring out and back into it. As he neared it, though, more and more of the water beneath the surface came into view, along with glimpses of sloping calligraphy etched within the inner bowl.
Not another gods-damned riddle!
