Part 44 (2/2)

There was a dumbwaiter in one corner, likely leading up to the kitchen, and a smaller, private stock of wine as well as an untapped keg. A fireplace sat at either end of the room, though upon closer examination they appeared to be wood-burning stoves with stone facades.

”So this is the Underhill Society?”

Fell finished lighting the candelabras and blew out her lantern. ”Yes.”

”Has it been here the whole time?” Adamat remembered hearing about the Underhill Society for the first time over thirteen years ago and knew it was much older than that. Ricard had owned the hotel for only six.

”Only since Ricard bought the hotel. He hasn't told me where they met before that.”

Adamat pointed back down the hallway. ”Are they...”

”They can come search the room. It shouldn't take long. Just don't mention the... well, you know.”

Fell's searchers finished their a.s.signed niches and then moved into the larger room, checked every nook and cranny thoroughly and without comment as to the room's purpose. Adamat returned to the wine cellar, resuming his examination of the bottles.

Frustration continued to mount. Every bit of instinct told him that the blasting oil should be hidden among the wine. It was too good a spot for any henchman with half a wit, and if the perpetrator had a whole wit, the oil would have been bottled carefully and put in among the less-used wines. Adamat cursed under his breath and tried to recall the latest fas.h.i.+onable wines among Ricard's friends and a.s.sociates-those would be the easiest to rule out.

The searchers moved up to the next floor, and Adamat only barely noted their pa.s.sing.

It must have been almost an hour later when he heard someone on the bas.e.m.e.nt stairs. He noted Fell's soft footfalls.

”Any progress upstairs?” he asked.

Fell set her lantern on a wine barrel in one corner. ”None. It's a large hotel and with only four men it's a slow business. Progress here?”

”I've narrowed it down to a possibility of three dozen bottles,” Adamat said.

”Are you sure you're putting your energy in the right place? After all, I'd think it would be obvious if any of the wine here had been uncorked.”

”Certainly. But they could have done it off-site and brought the wine here.” Adamat sighed and returned a bottle to its place. ”I should have asked Ricard if any of his guests have brought him new wine recently.”

”Everyone does,” Fell said.

Adamat eyed the shelves where he'd sorted the most probable bottles. ”Have him make a list for me. The only way to know for certain is to open every bottle. Or, more safely, to take the whole lot out of the city and throw it off a high cliff.”

”Ricard would be... cross. He already lost his collection beneath the old headquarters. You know how he feels about his wine.”

”The captain of the hotel will already gut me for destroying whatever system he had in place down here. Might as well infuriate Ricard as well. Get someone to help me carry these upstairs.” He rubbed at his temples. ”Pit, how am I going to get this out of the city? From everything Flerring told me, it's a terrible idea to transport the stuff by carriage. Too b.u.mpy.”

”Ma'am?” a voice called down the bas.e.m.e.nt stairs.

Fell stepped into the bas.e.m.e.nt hall and called back. ”Yes?”

”I think we've found something.”

Adamat was on his feet in moments. He followed Fell up the stairs, where Draily waited. The woman led them both into the kitchen and stopped beside the silver cabinet. ”Had to get the captain to open it up for me.” She opened one of the doors and knelt in front of it. ”You'll want to look yourselves. I don't really want to reach in there.”

Adamat lay on the wood floor beside the silver cabinet and took Fell's lantern.

On the bottom shelf, behind the silver serving platters, was a wooden crate. It held gla.s.s vials with corks in the top and each one was filled with a clear liquid. Adamat suddenly felt his heart hammering in his ears.

”b.l.o.o.d.y pit,” he said.

”It's there?”

”Yes.”

Fell gave an audible sigh of relief.

”Fetch Flerring the Younger,” Adamat said. ”Probably best to have one of her professionals deal with the stuff. Post a heavy guard on this room, but try to do it quietly. And get me the kitchen staff. I want every single one of them here for questioning by this evening.”

Fell barked orders to her people. Adamat felt her hand on his arm. ”Excellent work, Inspector.”

”Don't thank me yet,” Adamat said, still lying on the floor, unable to take his eyes off the innocuous-looking bottles of blasting oil.

”Why?”

”There are two bottles missing.”

CHAPTER.

38.

Tamas crept through the riverside rushes, knee-deep in the cold water of the Addown River.

He had one pistol in his belt, the other held with the barrel pointed skyward, and the sword at his side leaving a slight furrow against the current of the river. The night was crisp, his breath visible to his powder-enhanced senses. Somewhere off to his left, a fish jumped in the water, and he heard Andriya start behind him.

”Shh,” Tamas said quietly. ”Don't get twitchy on me.”

Tamas was ready to reprimand him for a smart remark, but Andriya behaved himself. They pushed forward, frogs going silent at their advance but no sign of alarm in the fortress up ahead of them.

Fortress, Tamas reflected, was a stretch. The stone building was only two stories tall, with a twelve-foot wall that stretched from the riverside a hundred feet to the main highway. The whole thing was little more than an inspection station where government officers could check both carts on the road and barges in the water for contraband and tax dodgers heading between Adopest and Budwiel.

Before the revolution, it would have been staffed by just eight to ten servants of the crown. The Kez, when they swept past this point, had reinforced the whole building. Small-caliber cannons had been mounted along the wall and a sixteen-pound artillery piece had been placed on the end of the stone wharf that stuck out into the Addown. Tamas guessed that they'd left no less than a forty-man garrison.

Tamas approached the base of the wharf, his eyes on the top of the inspection station. Torches lit the wall, and he could see the bobbing of a bayonet that betrayed the presence of a guard.

Something touched his arm and Tamas stopped, looking back. Andriya pointed into the rushes, and after a moment Tamas could see a nest where a yearling goose eyed him angrily.

He waded deeper into the water to avoid the nest, then shoved his pistol in his belt and tightened his sword against his thigh. He reached up until he could feel the stone ledge above him, and with a quick motion he was up on the wharf.

<script>