Someone pounded on Raya’s door, in the early hours of the morning. It was still dark outside, she saw through her window, as she stood up from her cot. She strode into the main room of their house, to see her father coming out of his room. Mister Ganner had a walking stick in his hand, ready for action. She glared at him with a smile, and he set it against the wall nearby.
Raya answered the door.
Tharin and three other guards stood outside, surrounding Councillor Cavthur and Rother. “Ganners,” said Rother, his wrinkled face parting for the word. “We’ll speak inside.”
Without a choice, Raya and her father stepped back from the door to admit the guards and the Councillors. The guard started fanning out; one checked under the low supported table, while Tharin stuck his head into Raya’s room.
“What’s going on?” Mister Ganner demanded.
Cavthur’s smile was a short, shrewd line on his round chin. “Your son, your brother. Our murderer… he’s vanished. So where is he?”
The guards opened the bedroom and Mister Ganner said, “Stop!” but they didn’t. Raya’s mother made a surprised yelp, but the guards emerged without issue and stood watching the Councillors for more orders.
“What do you mean, where is he?” Raya asked, keeping a straight face.
Rother raised his hand. “Jan, calm down. We just want to ask a few questions. It’s clear that Novar is not here.”
“Where is my son?” Mister Ganner asked. “Is he not in your custody?”
Cavthur tsked and spread his arms wide. “He’s not,” the old Councillor said. “You and I have been around this debate before, when we were young men in the mines. Olston is a city of good people, you said. Your own son a murderer, your daughter—”
“Cavthur!” Rother exclaimed. “That’s enough.”
Mister Ganner was flushed, and Raya too.
“Novar disappeared from his cell last night. Between when he was fed and when the guard did his midnight patrol,” Councillor Rother told them. “No damage to the cell, no broken locks. No traces to speak of. Gone.”
Raya felt a chill. The same had happened to that guard—vanished without a trace. Viker had said not to fret. ‘I will see Novar safely out of Olston’, he had said, as though it was no matter to him. Novar was safe now, she assured herself. The guards formed up around the door again, of their own volition, and Miss Ganner appeared in the open door of her room, a simple shift thrown over her underclothes hurriedly.
Rother continued. “Does anyone in your household know anything about this?”
“No,” Raya’s father said. “Raya?”
“Nothing,” Raya said.
The Councillor sighed. “Very well,” he said. “We’ll investigate the scene further tomorrow, and the Council will discuss it.”
“Discuss it?” Jan Cavthur sneered. “Someone on the Council is behind this, one of those fools that voted to pardon the boy. I swear to find out who.”
Rother shook his head. “Age is muddling your mind, my friend. Let’s go.” The door creaked open.
The Ganner household was left alone by the guards again, winded and aghast. Raya’s father sat down at the table, while her mother stayed in the doorway of their bedroom, clinging to the frame. Raya quietly closed the door, and put the whole thing behind her.