Vane carried the iron key up the vertical flue behind the study chimney.
The metal felt heavy against his jaw, but he did not slow his pace.
He reached the attic crawlspace where the rafters met the slate roof tiles.
In a quiet corner behind a stack of cedar trunks, Vane had built a hidden nest out of shredded linen and dried moss.
He dropped the key into the soft center of his nest and nudged it deep beneath the moss layer.
Without that key, the intruders could not open the outer safety bar of the vault.
Vane paused to groom his sable coat, smoothing the thick fur along his flanks with quick, methodical strokes.
He listened to the faint sounds filtering up through the floorboards.
The intruders were moving through the upper hall now, opening doors and searching closets.
"The key is not on the desk," the taller man complained down below.
"He must have hidden it somewhere in the living quarters," the second man grumbled in reply.
Vane slipped back down the chimney flue to monitor their movements.
He emerged near the ceiling beam in the main hallway.
The two men stood under the brass chandelier, shining a battery lantern into the dark corners of the hall.
The taller man held a folded piece of parchment in his hand.
Vane recognized the yellowed paper immediately. It was the original architectural plan of the estate.
"The blueprint says there is an access shaft behind the library fireplace," the second man noted, tracing a line on the paper.
Vane felt a sudden chill run down his spine.
If they found the fireplace shaft, they could bypass the outer security doors completely.
He scurried along the ceiling beam until he reached the library chimney breast.
Inside the fireplace, a heavy iron damper controlled the airflow.
If the damper was closed, the entrance to the secret shaft remained completely sealed.
Vane dropped down into the soot-stained brick cavity of the fireplace.
He pressed his shoulder against the iron lever that operated the damper.
The old iron was stiff and encrusted with ash from decades of winter fires.
Vane dug his hind paws into the brick mortar and pushed with all his strength.
The lever groaned softly, then snapped down into the locked position with a firm click.
A heavy iron plate dropped into place with a dull thud.
Outside in the library, footsteps approached the hearth.
"Let us check the fireplace mantle," the taller man said, stepping onto the stone hearth.
Vane crouched low in the soot behind the cast-iron grate.
A bright beam of light shone through the iron bars of the grate.
The light swept across the blackened bricks and rested on the locked damper lever.
"The damper is rusted shut," the second man observed after a moment. "We cannot get through here."
"We will try the cellar stairs instead," the taller man replied, turning away.
The light moved away, and their footsteps faded toward the kitchen wing.
Vane let out a quiet breath into the dark chimney.
He had bought more time, but the cellar stairs led directly to the lower vault corridor.
He scrambled back up the chimney bricks and headed for the cellar ductwork.
He moved through the narrow tin ducts with practiced agility.
The metal vanguards vibrated slightly beneath his feet, but his light body created no noise.
He reached the ceiling vent inside the wine cellar.
Below him, the cellar was dark and damp, filled with rows of oak barrels resting in racks.
The heavy oak door at the end of the cellar began to creak open slowly.
Vane peered through the vent slats as the two men stepped down the stone stairs.
They carried a heavy leather bag containing iron crowbars and picklocks.
"The vault is just beyond that iron gate," the taller man pointed out.
Vane knew the iron gate was secured with a heavy tumbler lock.
He also knew that a colony of barn swallows nested in the rafters directly above the gate.
If the swallows were disturbed, they would create an uproar that would sound through the entire house.
Vane climbed out of the duct and scurried along the high rafters toward the swallow nests.
He did not want to hurt the birds, but he needed their help to disorient the thieves.
He gently rustled the straw at the edge of the nearest nest.
The mother bird gave a sharp warning chirp and flapped her wings in alarm.
Vane nudged a small twig down onto the taller man's hat.
The man jerked his head upward in surprise and flashed his lantern into the rafters.
Dozens of swallows erupted from their nests in a frenzy of beating wings and loud cries.
The birds swooped down through the narrow cellar corridor, creating utter chaos.
"What is that?" the second man shouted, ducking low to shield his face.
The lantern clattered onto the stone floor, its glass lens cracking against the flags.
In the confusion, the men stumbled backward toward the cellar stairs.
Vane watched from the rafters as the intruders retreated into the hallway above.
He gave a quick tail flick of satisfaction.
The vault remained safe for another night, but Vane knew the thieves would return tomorrow with better tools.