Shadow's End by Thea Harrison

sleepily. Something rustled, and a dog’s low, menacing growl sounded from the shadows.
    A male voice, breaking with youth and nerves, said, “Whoever you are, you better stay back. My dog bites.”
    Bel laid a hand on Graydon’s arm. She replied soothingly, “We mean you no harm. All we want to do is ask you a few questions. I’m sorry we woke you, and I’m willing to pay for your time.”
    There was more rustling, along with tiny sounds of flint hitting tinder, and then the warm glow of the lamp illuminated the interior of the stable. A boy, lanky and awkward, and a dog of indeterminate breed peered at them warily.
    When the boy looked at Bel, his gaze widened. “Don’t that beat all,” he breathed. “I ain’t never spoke to no Elven lady before. Or maybe you’re Fae? I seen Fae and Elves on the road from time to time.”
    â€œI am Elven,” she told him, smiling slightly at his enthusiasm. “May we step inside and close the door? Otherwise your horses might get a chill.”
    â€œYes, my lady, if it pleases you.” The boy glanced at Graydon, who also smiled at him reassuringly. It seemed to help him relax, although his dog remained stiff-legged and bristled warningly.
    Bel and Graydon stepped inside. As Graydon quietly pulled the door shut and latched it, she said to the boy, “I’m looking for my son, and I wondered if you might have seen him. He would have traveled through this area sometime late yesterday. He’s actually my stepson, so he doesn’t quite look like me. He has pale blond hair.”
    The boy shook his head. His nervousness had not decreased, but the more Bel talked, the more his fear clearly ebbed. “No, my lady. There ain’t been no Elves travel on this road for some time. I would’ve heard if there was. Meaning no offense, but we don’t see many of you often.”
    â€œI see,” she murmured. Disappointment weighed on her shoulders, and her sharp, clear thinking from earlier in the flight clouded over.
    Rubbing her forehead, she struggled to focus. She had no business feeling so disappointed. They had barely begun to search. This was simply the first place they had stopped to ask questions
    Graydon flattened a large hand on her back, his touch silently bracing her.
    He asked the boy, “When they do pass by, do people of the Elder Races stop at your inn? Perhaps you’ve heard of an estate nearby that’s owned by one?”
    The boy straightened, his tired gaze growing more alert. “You’re talking about what used to be Stanton Manor,” he said. “That’s about a half mile on the other side of the mill, up the big hill. I hear they’re an odd sort up there.”
    â€œHow do you mean?” she asked quickly.
    â€œSometimes his lordship hires a whole houseful of staff for a week or two, only to send them home afterwards, and the house goes dark and silent for weeks or months on end. And sometimes, when nobody is supposed to be home, I heard that lights shine in the house.” The boy’s gaze had turned large and solemn. “Once the constable went up to check, and nobody was there. He said the dust in the place was an inch thick, and it weren’t disturbed none. He swears the house is haunted.”
    â€œFancy that, a haunted house.” Graydon cocked an eyebrow at her. He asked the boy, “If someone came from London, could they travel by another route to reach that house, or must they pass this spot?”
    After mulling it over, the boy said, “They could take Old Ferryman’s Road. You wouldn’t have to go through town if you took that route. It goes directly past the mill.”
    â€œThank you,” Graydon told him. “You’ve been very helpful. I have one last question for you. Could you sneak into the kitchen for some bread and cheese? Perhaps there might be some cold chicken or a roast left over from supper.