“It’s a good spot to search for Rankstine’s guards,” Thomas said peering down at the city. They could see the townspeople hard at work. Construction was underway in two places: at the northern edge of Grandwood near the docks and port and around the southern end of town. The wall and trench on the opposite side of town emerged from the woods, cutting across the bombed-out fields where the vendors set up for the Grandwood Games before the invasion several months earlier. The new wall headed across the beach and would eventually wrap around to tie into the section ending at the docks.
After some silent observing, Kirsten pointed toward a street along the eastern edge of town away from the beach and port, “There they are.”
Thomas strained, but despite his efforts, he couldn’t see exactly where she was pointing. “Where? I don’t see them,” he asked.
“Between the bakery and the grain mill,” Kirsten said. “I see a group of men wearing Merglan’s colors walking down the street.”
Taking a moment to locate the windmill, Thomas nodded, “Ah, yeah, I see them now. It looks like they’re heading down to the gateway where our road enters the town’s limits.”
“Come on. Let’s go,” Kirsten said, rushing forward to get closer to town.
Reaching some bushes on the leeward side of the wall, the townspeople could be seen digging the trench and constructing the wall. Kirsten and Thomas hid quietly, waiting for the guards’ arrival. In short order, four men clad in black and gold surrounded a small group of those laboring. The workers looked up at them, pausing from their efforts.
“Billson,” one of the guards called out to the group. “Come with us. The governor would like a word with you.”
Billson, who Thomas had spoken with shortly after their arrival several days earlier, looked around at his fellow workers and with a compliant gesture stuck his spade into the ground, and walked toward the guard who’d called his name.
The guard grabbed his arm as he approached and attempted to pull him along, but Billson pulled his arm away quickly and said, “I’m a-gettin’, aren’t I?”
The guard glared at him, curling his lip in disgust, “Go on then,” the guard barked, “Get!”
Billson led the two closest guards away from the workers, passing through the streets. Two of the guards lagged behind, eyeing the workers who’d stopped to watch them take Billson away. “Get back to work!” one of them shouted before they hurried off to catch up with the others.
“Now’s our chance,” Kirsten said.
Thomas nodded and they ran out onto the road, following the guards and Billson.
Sliding up to the edge of a building and peeking her head around the corner to catch a glimpse of the group, Kirsten asked, “I wonder what they want with Billson?”
“I’m not sure,” Thomas said. “I wonder if he’s in some kind of trouble for speaking with us earlier?”
Kirsten shrugged, “Could be, but why would that irritate Rankstine?”
“Just a guess, but he seems to have the whole town scared into doing what he wants. He probably feels the need to silence Billson if he spoke ill of him,” Thomas suggested.
“It’s possible. Or, maybe he’s going to give Billson orders to try to sabotage us since he might’ve heard that he spoke to us.”
“There’s only one way to find out,” Thomas said and the two left the wall they were pressed against and continued to follow the guards.
They took a winding path through the cobblestone streets of Grandwood, past the central courtyard where markets were held and up near the temple where those who worshipped could honor their gods. They watched as the armed guards forced Billson through the back door of the large stone temple.
“So that’s where he’s hiding,” Thomas said. “I bet he thinks he’s some kind of god or something and is forcing people to pray to him in there.”
Kirsten nodded, “Yeah, I wouldn’t put it past him.”
They waited until the guards closed the door before emerging from their hiding place. Approaching the door with caution, Thomas carefully reached forward and grabbed the doorknob. He twisted but felt it stop almost instantly when the locking mechanism engaged.
“It’s locked,” he said with a snort.
Kirsten pursed her lips as she thought. Raising her eyebrows, “I’ve got it. There’s another way in. Come on,” she said motioning him to follow. She led them around to the front of the building.
Thomas grabbed her by the shoulder, “Don’t you think they’ll be watching the front entrance?”
She nodded and pointed up toward the top of the building.
Thomas followed her finger to the peak of a spire reaching skyward from the roof. “The bell tower?” he asked.
Again, she nodded, “This way.” He watched as his sister began to climb the overlapping bricks running up the corner of the building.
“How many times have you done this?” he asked as he placed his hands on the bricks below her.
Looking down at him, she smiled, “A few.”
“Lost a bet I suppose,” he mumbled, pulling himself off the ground.
“No,” she replied. “Actually, Becca Henderson and I used to climb up here during choir practice and make haunting sounds to scare them.”
“Ah, so you’re one of the ghosts all the choir kids whispered about,” Thomas chuckled. “That’s pretty funny.”
Reaching the top of the spire, Kirsten led her brother through the gap where the bell hung. They crawled their way inside the tower and stood on the wooden walkway. Kirsten placed an index finger over her mouth to shush her brother as they pinned their ears to the edge of the walk, listening for any voices.
“Ahh!” their eyes widened upon hearing Billson’s shouts.
“We have to help him,” Kirsten whispered with a worried look.
Thomas nodded, “But how do we do that? Is there another way down?”
Kirsten opened a hatch in the walkway. It revealed a wooden staircase leading down the circular tower to the lower level of walkway inside of the tower. Following her down, Thomas was surprised when they emerged into the balcony area inside the place of worship.
