A bottle of dark water from strange seas, gently swirling with secrets and ghosts.
"It is ancient," the duke said, tapping his fingers against the green glass, before handing it to Frim. The flask was cold against his palm and definitely not very ancient at all. A cheap trick to trap a drowned draug in a bottle, and a pathetic trick too.
"It is beautiful," Frim said. The water was twirling and twisting inside, pearly foam crashing against the sides. Something inside was leaping on top of the waves; a small and fickle boat ready to be swallowed by the depths.
"Just one of many wonderful things in my collection." The duke gestured to the rest of the room, filled with similar dark shelves.
Frim pretended to never have seen it before. Far above, moonlight entered through the clerestory windows, making crystals and jars glimmer. From downstairs came the noise from the party, roars of laughter rising and falling.
"I bet the king does not have a collection like this," the duke said.
"He indeed has not," Frim said. Therein lay the whole problem. "Although he has many great things."
"Of course. I was not insinuating anything else."
It was a powerful thing, to be perceived the judge of treason, and now the duke let him peruse alone for a bit, the draug flask still in his hand. He had been here before, of course, secretly, of course just a few hours earlier. The result lay in an envelope against his chest and desperatedly needed to be smuggled out. But he had been here much, much earlier as well, when everything hadn't been so damp and dusty. He had been there when the collecting had began. Faint images lingered. Sunlight cast on empty shelves. Labels being carefully written with purple ink. The scent of pear trees, now since long felled. He could not remember the name of the person who had begun the collention, but he could remember that they had meant something.
To hell with this place. He needed to get out, and get out quickly. It had been lovely to play the role of diplomatic royal envoy up to now, but the queen had given him permission to cause any chaos necessary. The duke wasn't important, his collection wasn't important. The one important thing, he had already made sure to steal.
From his hand, from the bottle, came the sound of crashing waves. Frim threw the bottle against the floor. With roar of the sea, and the screams the drowned, the draug was released.

































