The Hidden City

by October's Song

There was an overwhelming scent of rot and salt in the air - almost as if he and the others had wandered too close to the edge of a swamp that now threatened to swallow them whole…bones and all. A collection of stories/snippets about the Wynchwood clan.

7. The Spy and the Egg

Warped, rotten floorboards creaked beneath her feet as the Wildclaw carefully made her way along the dark corridor. At any other time she would've avoided coming up here, but the object she currently held was too precious to not be delivered at once.

Windsinger, but this place gave her the creeps. The sooner she could get out of here, the better. Too many dark corners and skittering things in Varfell Hall for her liking. Countless eyes peered from the shadows, staring at her. Through her.

Ah, there the doors were.

Viscar knocked once, then waited. There was the faint sound of shuffling on the other side, but nothing else. She clicked her teeth in irritation, then knocked again.

"What? I don't like being disturbed in the middle of my work."

"I have what you wanted, old one," Viscar said.

One of the doors was pulled open, creaking and squeaking upon its hinges. The Pearlcatcher was indeed elderly, her tufted tail tip ragged and frayed. Still, there was something in her eyes that Viscar did not like. They were too bright, too angry. The Pearlcatcher stared eagerly, hungrily at her.

"You're sure? You have it?" Her voice shook.

Viscar nodded, holding out the object. At first glance it didn't look like much, just a jagged lump of ice. Both knew what it really was, however.

The Pearlcatcher reached out, taking the egg from her.

"You weren't seen? I won't help you if you reveal this place to anyone, spy."

Viscar shook her head. "I made sure. No one saw me go in or out again."

The Pearlcatcher stared at her for a long while, then grunted. Turning away, she shuffled over to an ornate desk, picked a small leather pouch up and then came back to the door. The contents clinked inside as she tossed it towards Viscar, who plucked it out of the air.

"I may be in need of your services again. Be sure to stay somewhere I can contact you easily. And remember…do not let yourself be detected."

The door shut with a click.

Viscar snorted, then turned swiftly away. Getting out of Varfell Hall was the only thing she wanted to do right now. She'd worry about the rest of this business later.