Luisa could see catain figures outlined against a glow, and as she approached she saw it was the abbot, Finn and a runner, who was crumpled in exhaustion sitting on the ground.

The abbot’s face, lit by the flames, was full of concern.

He turned and saw Luisa, and his face fell, she could tell this was something he didn’t want her to see. Before he could say anything spoke, 

“Abbot, don’t, I won’t be going back to my quarters.”

The abbot gave a short nod, and turned again to face the room in silence.

Finn did not turn to look at Luisa.  Both were transfixed by the flame extending from a scene Luisa could not yet see.  She passed the seated catain, his gold sash signifying that he was a runner for the readers, as she passed him she could see his fur was singed, his paws burnt, an empty water pail lay rocking at his side.  He did not look up but sat breathing heavily.

As Luisa walked towards the room as her mouth went dry.  She could see black smoke damage around the great opaque glass doors, one which had been flung open.

“Good god,” she gasped as she took in the sight. 

Clearwater let out a small howl before throwing herself behind Finn immediately sobbing into his back. 

Luisa could not tear her eyes from the gruesome spectacle.

It was the Chamber of Journals. The fine glass cabinets were smashed, and the floor was heavily littered with the blackened shards of their glass.  Hundreds of the thick journals were scattered about and had been violently ripped apart, piled together and burned. Several empty water buckets showed the exhausted runner’s gallant effort at tackling the fire and saving some of the tomes.  As piles of journals continued to burn off they creating a satanic glow to highlight the centrepiece of the room.

A dead reader sat in the centre of the room leaning back against a burning chair with her legs akimbo.  Her face was set in a frozen, silent scream with eyes wide open, unseeing.  Her silent screaming face was horrifically burned.  With both ears gone, and fur and skin disposed of to expose her mouth, the sinews drawn back into a death-snarl and two rows of sharp teeth bared and open.  Around her shoulders were the charred robes that identified her as a scribe.

Ranson.

Both her seared paws were clasped around a silver sword that had been pushed through her middle with such force it had pinned the scribe to the floor leaving her to burn alive. 

Luisa turned her back to the scene to face the abbot. His eyes were shining with tears that reflected the dying flames.  He spoke heavily with a cracked voice.

“This is dark work Luisa.  Dark, dark work. Ranson, was a great scribe. A good life lost. These books… our history, this is sacrilege.”

Luisa spoke with a voice so powerful, so full, it was almost not her own.

“This is murder.”

Finn and the abbot both seemed to break free from their trance to regard Luisa.  Clearwater peeked from behind Finn and the exhausted runner raised his head to listen to the Princess.

Luisa glared back at them, with her back to the fire, her body felt like it crackled with an incredible energy.  She spoke again, regarding each one in turn.

“This is murder. And I know who did it. Finn, we must find a reader, his name is Garner, I am certain he is the murderer.”

Luisa explained what she had just seen.  The runner stood, willing to guide them. Garner was a low level reader, and he still lived deep in the Drylliads. They would need to get down there fast.

Luisa, Finn and Clearwater followed the runner as he ran. Luisa felt like she almost knew where she was going, with some instinct unwinding the path in front of her. With the corridors empty they could run fast, Finn’s haggard breaths were in her ears and she could feel Clearwater lagging behind him. But they continued to tear through Cataindar and soon the corridors became lower, until they had to push through a thick low door.  It led to a sharp sloping corridor that snaked its way  down, they followed it down and down, the ground was now uneven beneath Luisa’s feet, she was glad she was in her trainers.

They were deep in the Drylliads. The walls and ceiling were so low that they were just a few inches above Luisa’s head and just a few body widths wide. The full effects of the contravention seemed not to have reached these tiny corridors and candles cast their small light on the corridors. Small, dirty catains wandered around in rags with or were curled up asleep in a ball.  All ogled at Luisa and nudged others who pointed and whispered to one and another.  The runner pulled the Drylliad dwellers aside and spoke in hushed tones, needing directions. The first two catains he approached shrugged, not meeting his eyes, unable or unwilling to help, despite threats from Finn.

What the heck is that about?

Finally a younger catain, unable to tear his eyes from Finn completely star-struck, explained the way and the group cut through a long, low tunnel. They passed a cave-in, decorated with root carvings, and then another with the same morbin adornments before they turned down a long sparsely populated corridor, that led to a passage with just one door in it.  The wood wasn’t strong, but better than most in the Drylliads and it was inscribed with catain runes. The runner stopped, sweating profusely. 

“These are Garner’s quarters.”

“Thank you, now leave us.” said Finn and drew one of his swords.

He put his golden paw against the door and looked at Luisa.

“Three, two, one.”

He shoved hard against the door and it broke open. Dust and chips of stone sprinkled from above.

Luisa froze and Clearwater immediately backed against the wall, her eyes widening. 

Finn ignored it and strode into the room. Catching Clearwater’s eye Luisa followed him in.

Garner’s quarters were made up of a single tiny room, smaller than Luisa’s dressing chamber. Small but well kept, containing a simple bed, a small closet, a bookcase and a lamp, which, despite the contravention, was still burning. 

The room’s distinguishing feature was Garner, who was spread out on the floor, dead, in a pool of his own blood.

Finn gestured to Luisa and Clearwater to stay where they were.  

He carefully stepped in the room. Garner’s throat was cut. In one of his paws lay his dagger. It was the same dagger that Luisa had seen him draw earlier on.

Finn sighed.

“Luisa I fear that you are right, Garner was the murderer and now he has taken his own life.”

“But why?” Clearwater blurted out.

Finn sighed and absentmindedly tapped the point of his sword on the ground.

“We may never know why the Chamber of Journals was burned or it’s Scribe murdered, maybe some quarrel between the readers? Perhaps Garner was driven mad by his dewin? It would not be the first time in Cataindar’s history something like this has happened.”

 Luisa looked down at Garner’s corpse.  Something did not look right to Luisa, no, perhaps look was too strong a word, something did not feel right.  She had a nagging feeling in her gut that on any other day she would have dismissed.  But in her current state of sensitivity her mind was alight, like a bright fire had caught inside it.

  She looked at the scene and despite its disturbing nature her mind continued to shine, taking that feeling from her gut and untangling it.  Tiny indicators began to stand out.  She could feel Finn’s exhaustion, sense it by his laboured movements, his long blinks, how he leaned against the wall.  She could feel Clearwater’s fear radiate from her, as her eyes darted, her small back pressed against the door frame.  Luisa stepped past Finn.  She slowly squatted next to the body, her trainers just out the reach of the pool of blood.  She took in the deep cut across Garner’s throat.  His blood soaked fur.  His bandaged arm.  His stunned eyes. In the paw of his unwounded arm lay the dagger. It was covered in blood. 

“Finn, which way would you say this throat was cut?”

Finn flicked his yellow eyes at the body briefly, “from right to left Princess, with the dagger that lays within his paw.”

Luisa’s mind flashed back to when she had first opened the door to disturb Garner. He had drawn on her.  Which hand had he used? She replayed the scene in her mind, he had cross-drawn, reaching across his body to draw the weapon.  She remembered the angle he was standing.  He had used the same hand that was bandaged.   He was left-handed. Luisa looked down at the dagger.  It lay in his right.

She explained to Finn. 

“By the Dragons,” Finn uttered, he put his paw on Luisa’s shoulder.

 Princess, to recall such details… the killer was cunning.” Finn sighed, “I’ll bring my scougers here to interview the Drylliad dwellers. Someone will have seen something. We must take this to the abbot.”

Luisa clenched her jaw.

Her aunt.

“Yeah. There are a few things I want to talk to the abbot about too.  But first I must go back to the Chamber of Journals, there is something I need to see.” 

--

Friday update my dear Catainites plus an Amazon gift card giveaway on the flip side.

 #15 in Action & #25 in Fantasy this morning and... No.1 in the Action-Fantasy Hot List!!

Very cool. Thank you again - your comments make the novel visible, your votes help Cataindar rank, adding it to your reading list and talking about it all has generated a ton of buzz! Great new readers have joined and enjoyed!

Rankings are nice, but friends are better. I would trade any # to keep the readers I have now. You are all helping the novel be the best it can be, recommending tweaks and revisions (small and major), copyediting, guessing at the story, debating the characters and encouraging this aspiring author – that is the magic of wattpad.  Those that have subscribed, at Cataindar.com thank you so bloody much!  

It has put a jet-packs on my passion for this project. 

Anyway… let us get back to this nice long chapter, and join Luisa and Clearwater, to find out what they saw in Cataindar’s dark halls…

 Have an awesome weekend, we should be stepping back into Cataindar together on Wednesday… with one of my favourite scenes with our  chained-up, large friend.