The Draykon Series (1-3)

Lokant: Chapter Thirty-Seven

When the carriage finally pulled up, Eva's first thought was that they'd been brought to the wrong place.

The street in which they stopped was obviously a residential area. The houses were small, even cramped; many of them were only one-storey. She couldn't imagine there were more than three or four rooms inside.

Tren shrugged at her questioning look. 'Might be Byllant's home address?'

'True. I suppose I just assumed that it would be a factory or an office.' She shook out her crumpled skirts, glancing up and down the street. It was late, already well into the middle of the evening, and the street was quiet. 'How do you suppose we should proceed?'

'Knocking on the door is usually considered a good start.' Tren shrugged back into his jacket, his long fingers making short work of the buttons.

'Just knock on the door?'

'Why not? We're planning to ask him some questions, I thought, not arrest him. And the encounter's more likely to be civilised if we start by being polite.'

'All right.' She took the arm that he offered and they crossed the street. All the shutters in Byllant's house were closed, and no gleam of light suggested the presence of an inhabitant.

After all the trouble it had taken to find this place, it would be terribly inconvenient if the man wasn't even home.

A light tap on the door brought no answer. She knocked again, more loudly. Nothing.

'Let's try the back,' said Tren. Eva followed him down the side of the house to the small walled yard at the back. To her extreme distaste, Byllant's garden was full of mud.

'Next time, remind me to change my gown first.'

Tren chuckled. 'I thought we were in a terrible hurry?'

'That may be true,' she said with dignity, 'but there is very little in this world that is worth the sacrifice of a favourite gown.'

'Your faithful factotum ought to have been prepared for that.'

'Yes, he should have been. Why weren't you, Tren?'

He swept her a deep bow of apology. 'I can only beg your forgiveness, my lady. I am unworthy.'

She sniffed. 'Amends to be made later. You can do the knocking this time.'

Tren obliged, pounding on the door loudly enough to wake the dead.

'That might have been excessive.'

'One merely does as her ladyship commands.'

Nothing moved within. Eva noticed Tren eyeing the door speculatively.

'Forget it. You are not kicking it in.'

'Why not?'

'Because you'd bring the whole neighbourhood down on us.'

'Then I cede the floor to your ladyship. Any other ideas?'

'One. Keep close to me.' She reached out to find Tren's arm in the darkness. Instead of taking his wrist, she took his hand and laced her fingers through his.

'Er, what -'

She was getting faster at translocation. Within seconds they stood on the other side of the little house's rear door.

Tren stared at her. 'I still think that's creepy.'

'Quiet.' She stood for a moment, listening. If Byllant was home, he was a master at keeping silent.