The girl looked up. "No, it is not."
Moria bent beside the girl. "What's wrong?"
"They made us go to bed early."
Behind Moria, Tyrus laughed, and Moria relaxed.
"Ah," she said. "That is a tragedy."
"Yes," the girl said. "We told them you had promised to come. Ashyn visited earlier, with Sabre, who said some of us could try her sling, and he made them leave."
Tyrus frowned. "The guard made them leave?"
"No, Hogan did." It took Moria a moment to place the name. It was one of the oldest boys from Fairview.
"And by what right did Hogan do such a thing?" Moria asked.
"No right at all," the girl said, lifting her chin. "He's awful. He bosses everyone about. He told the nursemaids that we ought to go to bed early, and then when Ashyn and Sabre came, he told them we were sleeping, which we were not. He's mean, and I hate him."
"Ah," Moria said. "It sounds as if someone takes his responsibility a little too seriously. We will speak to him."
"Is he awake?" Tyrus asked.
"No," Chera said. "He fell fast asleep. That's why he made us go to bed early. He was tired. It's not fair."
"No, indeed it is not," Tyrus said. "But as a prince, I overrule him, so you may stay up." He leaned down and whispered, "And he will miss all the fun, because he is asleep. Now, where are your nursemaids and guard? I ought to speak to them before I steal you away to help me feed Zuri."
At the mention of the dragon, the little girl squealed. A few more faces popped from doorways, and Tyrus motioned for them to come out quietly. Moria told him to take the children outside, so they would not wake the others. She'd speak to the guard and nursemaids.
Tyrus bustled the children out. Moria stood there, looking about the dark guesthouse. Daigo slunk around her legs, whipping them with his tail, the fur along his spine raised. Which could mean that she had reason for feeling as unsettled as Gavril. Or it could simply mean that her anxiety had spread to her wildcat, as her emotions often did.
"Let's do this and get back outside, where we may watch over Tyrus," she whispered.
Her nerves settled a little as she began to search. There were only five rooms. The first held sleeping children, as did the second. The third, a washbasin and toilet pit. The fourth a small kitchen. The fifth . . .
"More children?" she whispered to Daigo as she opened the door. "Blast it, where are the servants?"
And the guard. Yes, they'd seen one walking out, but that only meant he'd been relieved of his duty. Speaking of guards, what was the point of having one if he was so otherwise preoccupied that they could spirit off the children on his watch? Was he playing a game of capture-my-lord? Or another sort of game, with the young women assigned as nursemaids?
"He'd best not be," Moria grumbled. But as she searched again, she knew she would not stumble over the guard with a servant. There was no guard here.
She imagined Gavril's voice at her ear, You feel unsettled, Keeper.
I am simply worried--
You know that is not it.
I know nothing--
Yes, you do. You know exactly what is wrong. You fear saying so and being proven wrong. Being shown a fool. Will you feel better if you are right . . . and you told no one?
Moria raced outside. Tyrus was there, with Zuri, showing Chera how to feed the whelp without losing fingers.
As soon as he saw her expression, his grin fell away.
She motioned him aside and said, "That was the guard we saw leaving. The only guard. The servants are also gone."
"What? They left the children--"