[DL-K]  The Mousetrap

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L'talin scanned the darkened cliffs and shadowed hollows intently, hoping 
against hope to see some indication of the intruder's presence.  The night 
air tingled against his skin, and his stomach did flops as though this was 
his first flight.  Some of that was due to the lingering effect of the 
poison, but even he had to admit that some of the stabbing pains were due to 
fear.  He had worked so long, so hard, to engineer the situation to his 
advantage...  now to have some Landborn trash resurface at just the wrong 
moment, to foul everything up...  fate could throw some remarkably cruel 
twists, it seemed.

 
Verthrad observed.

 L'talin 
shot back, annoyed.

  Without waiting for a reaction from his rider, Verthrad swooped 
toward their shared apartment and landed.

L'talin cursed under his breath as he slid from the harness and stormed into 
his apartments - once a haven, now a trap.  Shaelesta knew the truth about 
his past, and she was skulking somewhere in the vicinity of the warren.  
Apparently the plan to discredit her and frighten her away from Keldarra had 
worked - but only for a while.  Now she was back, and playing games with 
him.

She would soon learn what a deadly proposition that would be.

Except he had no idea where she might be hiding...  if only he had some way 
to track her down...

The notion hit him suddenly.  L'talin recalled a day a while ago when K'wen 
got into a fight in the dining hall with a young newly-joined rider over 
slurs against the honor of a certain young woman, one widely believed to be 
a thief...  the new lad had fought to defend the exile's name...

Jonah?   No, Jono.  Yes, that was the name.  So he cared for her honor, did 
he?  Too young, perhaps, to be her paramour, though some women seemed to 
prefer things thus... far more likely a friend or relative.  He struggled to 
recall both sets of features, checking for a resemblance...

L'talin wished he could recall more of the fight between Jono and K'wen.  He 
had the inkling this might be a sibling...  but he needed to be sure.  If 
his supposition was correct, he had his answer.

Follow the brother, find the sister.


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The next morning was frustrating.  The lad was easy enough to follow 
unobtrusively.  In fact, Jono made it simple for him, always seeming to 
hover nearby, never in a hurry to get anywhere.  The problem was, he never 
seemed to go anywhere important or worthwhile...  instead he just loitered 
around, occasionally trying to look as though he had a purpose while not 
really doing much.  It was almost as if Jono were following *him* instead of 
the other way around.  L'talin found himself inventing errands and visiting 
shops just to browse, in order to arouse less suspicion in his quarry.  He 
hoped this chase led somewhere soon, because the anticipation was maddening.

He watched the flight training under the pretext of surveying the 
up-and-coming talent...  he *was* still a wingsecond, his current suspension 
notwithstanding, and this gave him a reason to be there.  Nevertheless he 
found the chore tedious, and L'talin learned nothing useful from following 
Jono around all day.

Around dinnertime, L'talin spied Fabrice outside the dining hall, and 
decided to try a new approach to the problem.  "Hullo, pet," he said 
soothingly, nonetheless making her jump.  She clearly was unused to him 
addressing her directly in public, after so many weeks of secrecy.

"L'talin," she replied with a wan smile that almost, but did not quite, 
reach her eyes.  She seemed as though she'd been crying, and she looked 
deeply fatigued.  Her suspension from the med center did not seem to have 
left her any better rested, which L'talin found surprising.  Annoying, too, 
since a fatigued Fabrice meant less of her healing touch to soothe his own 
troubles, later...

"I've a job for you, my sweet," he smiled at her.

"Not - not R'mar again?" Fabrice said, looking anguished.

"Nothing so stressful as that," he assured her.  "One of your peers, the 
young man who rides the black dragon...   you know him?"

"Jono.  I know who he is," she agreed, "but I don't know him well."

"Well, I want you to inquire after the health of his sister.  Her name is 
Shaelesta.  Tell him you're worried about her."

"But I don't even know her!" Fabrice protested.

"Of course you do," he smiled through gritted teeth, gesturing subtly with 
his hand for her to speak more quietly.  "At least, as far as he knows.  
Please, this is important.  I know you won't let me down," he said.  
"Again," he added a beat later, and when her face crumpled in response he 
knew he had her.

"All right...  but I don't know why you think he'll talk to me, or trust 
me..."

"Oh, I'm sure he'll be suitably distracted..." he grinned, thinking of all 
the ways one might start a food fight and make it look like someone else 
started it... or at least, to make it look accidental...

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It had worked like a charm, and L'talin felt very pleased with himself as he 
returned to his apartments.  He wouldn't follow Jono tonight - the encounter 
with Fabrice was sure to have the lad on his guard, now that he had let slip 
that she was nearby - but in a day or two, the boy would lead him to 
Shaelesta.  It was going to be difficult to find a way to make two more 
deaths look like someone else's handiwork, so he contemplated other ways of 
disposing of their corpses.

 he entreated, not for 
the first time.

 Verthrad belched in mid-wing-stroke.

As they landed, L'talin noticed the door ajar and drew his knife.   He could 
barely read the scrawled painted letters in the evening shadows, but he 
could see enough to know that Shaelesta had been to visit him again.  In 
fact, with any luck, the little fool was inside right now...

"Well, well..." he murmured to himself.  "How strange for the mouse to come 
to the cat..."

He edged through the door, alert for sight or sound of the intruder...

...and was knocked to the floor and deafened by the exploding trap.

He lay there stunned for several minutes before he realized he was injured.  
  Not badly, but enough to know how much worse it could have been.  The side 
of his face felt warm and sticky...

 he thought desperately.  


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Respectfully submitted,

      Dave Lankford
         K'drik & Jacinth, Kendra Dyer,
         and special-guest-villain L'talin