City of Lies by Lian Tanner Page B

listening to her own breathing. One room to go.
    She hardly dared approach it. She saw the heavy door with the bolt on the outside, and her hopes rose and fell in sickening swoops.
    She slid the bolt back.
    She eased the door open.
    Unlike the others, the third storeroom had a tiny window. But the gaslight that filtered in from outside showed nothing but bare walls and a number of empty burlap bags strewn willy-nilly across the floor, as if someone had thrown them down in a temper.
    Goldie slumped back against the door. She felt like crying.Somewhere outside the window a dog barked, but she hardly heard it. She could no longer ignore the awful truth. Bonnie and Toadspit were not here. They must have been moved while she was walking around the city.
    “Idiot!” she whispered fiercely, wishing that she had listened more carefully to the little voice. “You’ve lost them!”
    The gray-spotted cat slunk past her into the room. “What am I supposed to do now, cat?” whispered Goldie, wishing that Broo were here, instead of this unfriendly creature.
    The cat ignored her. It stared at the burlap sacks, its tail twitching from side to side. In the far corner of the room, something scratched at the floor. The cat’s head swiveled toward it.
    The scratching sound came again. The cat’s bony hindquarters began to tremble. It inched across the floor on silent paws. It sprang. There was a squeak of terror, then nothing.
    Goldie swallowed, trying not to think about what might have happened to her friends. The cat sidled past her, a small, limp corpse dangling from its jaws.

    “He wants
what
?” said the Protector.
    The captain of militia cleared his throat. “He wants to help, Your Grace. Sorry to bother you at this time of night,but one of the guards told him about the children going missing, and he reckons he might be able to find them. I thought you’d want to know as soon as possible.”
    The Protector pushed her hair out of her eyes. She should have been in bed hours ago, but she could not sleep for worry about the missing children. And now there was this ridiculous offer from the Fugleman. “He’s in a prison cell!” she snapped. “How could he possibly find
anything
? Except perhaps for bedbugs.”
    “He says he’s got contacts, Your Grace. People he’s worked with all over the peninsula, and in the Southern Archipelago too. They’re not a nice bunch—he admits he’s been a bad boy. But that’s all the better, Your Grace. If it’s criminals or slavers who’ve taken the children, then who better to find them than other criminals and slavers?”
    The Protector felt the old anger welling up inside her. “Tell the Fugleman—the
ex
-Fugleman—that we do not need—”
    She forced herself to stop. Perhaps she should not be so hasty. After all, Sinew’s inquiries had come to nothing, and so had hers.…
    “Why is he offering this?” she said. “What does he want? Money? Or is he trying to worm his way back into favor?”
    “He claims to be genuinely remorseful, Your Grace.”
    The Protector laughed grimly. “I am sure he does. But what’s his
real
reason?”
    “Maybe—maybe he’s hoping for a lighter sentence.”
    “Mm. I suppose that could be it.”
    “If he’s genuine, Your Grace, there’s no harm done. And his villainous friends might just be able to help.”
    “And if it’s a trick?”
    “Then we need to expose it as soon as possible.”
    The Protector pushed her chair back. “What does he need?”
    “He wants to send out lots of semaphore messages, that’s all. He says he can do it from the House of Repentance if you’ll let him into the office and give him a runner.”
    “I still don’t like it.”
    “He’ll be under close guard, Your Grace. And we’ll make sure that the messages are read before they are sent. We won’t give him a chance to get up to any of his nonsense.”
    “I suppose—” The Protector sighed. She was feeling old. “If there’s a chance it will help find