Arrive at the Oase too late to save His Lordship but in time—possibly—to rescue her from Uwald and his accomplice?
Allow Nesspa to lose his master?
IT sneered at ITself for thinking of the well-being of a dog.
“Masteress?” Brunka Arnulf said.
“I am cogitating.”
“His Lordship would search for you.”
“He and I are not alike.”
Although fire held no terror, IT could be buried if the mountain collapsed. A boulder could rip through one of ITs beautiful wings or shatter ITs skull and destroy ITs miraculous mind.
Moreover, if IT went after His Lordship, the folk of Lahnt would for all time dub IT a good dragon. That would gall.
“I have decided.” IT pushed off the ledge and flapped back toward Zertrum.
Over the Fluce, unexpectedly—uselessly!—from the depths of ITs prodigious brain, surfaced the location of the Replica and the identity of the second thief. IT remembered the puppet’s words: “Expectation misleads.”
Think, Lodie!
But IT doubted that even her penetrating mind would derive the answer.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
Elodie tapped a claw (fingernail) on the table. “Mistress Sirka and Goodman Dror have been proposed as the thieves by Master Tuomo, so let us consider them first.”
“Again?” Mistress Sirka yawned.
“I beg your forgiveness, I mean, indulgence.”
Master Robbie giggled.
Elodie wished he wouldn’t. This wasn’t a mere performance. “Master Tuomo exposed their motives: rage at Goodman Dror’s family coupled with greed. The method—”
Ludda-bee burst out, “No one is eating! Eat!” She passed the plate of yellow beans in one direction, the beets in the other.
“The method the thieves used,” Elodie continued as people helped themselves and their neighbors to food, “we have already established. It will be the same whoever they are. The trouble, I mean, difficulty, is that neither knew where the Replica was hidden. Goodman Dror has not been a bee long enough to be told.”
“Another bee may have told him,” Master Tuomo said.
Elodie wished she knew the rest of the bees. She doubted the ones she knew would have told.
Deeter-bee came unexpectedly to her rescue. “Then we would have three thieves, or why else would the bee tell?”
Elodie made an O with her lips and blew a long stream of air. “Three is, er, an unwieldy number.” What to say next? She wanted to deduce about Master Tuomo, but she was afraid of him. “Let us move along to another potential villain . . .” Who? “. . . Lodie’s father’s helper, her friend—”
“Hair and teeth!” Mistress Sirka cried. “Now open your eyes. Open—”
“What happened?” Johan-bee sounded more frightened than glad.
Elodie stepped away from the table to see the high brunka. Everyone else either stood or turned.
“Less than I hoped,” Mistress Sirka said. “She moved her hand and a wee rainbow came out of her thumb. Then the hand dropped back and the rainbow faded.”
“Is that good or bad?” Ursa-bee said.
“Could be either. She may be waking up or sinking deeper.”
“Continue, Mistress Elodie,” Master Uwald said. “I want to satisfy my son and set out.”
Elodie thought, He wants to be off before he can be re-imprisoned.
Albin performed a seated bow. “You were about to accuse me, Lady— I mean, Masteress.”
She sat again. “Indeed. Goodman Albin wanted passage money to rescue my assistant, who in fact needed no succor. Stealing the Replica to realize such a small sum may be likened to killing a flea with a cannon. Nonetheless, he was desperate. In a strange twist of fortune, he won more than enough dicing with Master Uwald, but that occurred after the theft, so—”
“I thought you never lose, Grand.”
Albin spooned beets into Elodie’s bowl. He said, “I believe that Master Uwald was kind enough to lose for my benefit.”
Elodie saw Master Tuomo frown.
Deeter-bee put the frown into words. “Hard to lose on purpose at dicing. The game is pure luck.”
“In truth, Goodman Albin ended my long good luck.” Master Uwald helped himself to a second helping of spiced apples, his eyes on the serving bowl. “These are uncommonly good, Ludda-bee.”
Elodie swallowed a spoonful of warm stew against the chill that ran through her. Master Uwald had just shown two signs of lying. She glanced at Albin and saw him looking at her. He’d noticed, too. Master Uwald hadn’t met Master Robbie’s eyes, and he’d said In truth. Her mansioner training had taught her that whatever followed that phrase was likely to be false. The game with Albin hadn’t been the one that ended his luck. Master Uwald had lost before.
Did that matter?
It mattered if he’d lost Nockess Farm.
How could she accuse Master Uwald?
Albin did it for her. “Mansioners study people so we can play our roles truthfully. Begging your pardon—I think you lied about your loss to me being the first.”