by Jim Butcher
Serai frowned and exchanged a long glance with Isana.
"What does it mean?" Isana asked quietly.
"That we cannot reach him that way," Serai said. "Beyond that, I am not sure. Nedus, did you learn anything at all about why the First Lord would do such a thing?"
Nedus shook his head. "Rumor was strong among the Counselor's staff that the First Lord's health had finally broken, but no one knew anything solid." He took the bottle from Serai's hand and drained the rest of it in a single pull. "I tried to find Sir Miles and speak to him, but he was nowhere to be found."
"Sir Miles?" Isana asked.
"Captain of the Royal Guard and the Crown Legion," Serai supplied.
"He was a water boy for Gaius's Knights, back in the my day," Nedus added. "He and his brother Araris. Miles was a hopeless squire, but he grew up pretty good. He remembers me. Might have helped out, but I couldn't find him. I'm sorry, child. I failed you."
Serai murmured, "Of course you didn't, darling. Gaius is making himself scarce, and his captain is nowhere to be found. Clearly something is afoot."
"Not all that scarce," Nedus said. "He presided over the qualifying runs of the Wind Trials this morning, as always."
"Perhaps," Serai said, her brow furrowed in thought. She glanced back at Isana, and said, "We must now consider more dangerous means of reaching him." She opened a small purse affixed to her belt, withdrew a folded piece of paper, and offered it to Isana.
"What is this?" she asked.
"An invitation," Serai replied. "Lady Kalare is hosting a garden party this evening."
Nedus's bushy eyebrows shot up. "Crows, woman. How did you manage to get an invitation?"
"I wrote it," the courtesan replied serenely. "Lady Kalare's hand is quite simple to reproduce."
Nedus barked out a laugh, but said, "Dangerous. Very dangerous."
"I don't want to go to a party," Isana said. "I want to reach the First Lord."
"Without being able to schedule an audience or reach your nephew, we must attempt something less direct. Each of the High Lords has an audience with the First Lord every year, as do the Senator Primus, the Regus of the Trade Consortium, and the head of the Dianic League. Most, if not all of them will be at the fete."
Isana frowned. "You want to talk one of them into letting us accompany them on their audience?"
"It isn't uncommon," Serai said. "You would not be privileged to speak to the First Lord under normal circumstances, but then once we are actually in Gaius's presence, we should be able to resolve matters in short order."
"Very. Dangerous," Nedus said.
"Why?" Isana asked.
"Gaius's enemies will be there, Steadholder."
Isana inhaled slowly. "I see. You think someone might take the opportunity to kill me."
"It's possible," Serai confirmed. "Lord and Lady Kalare will be in attendance. Kalare is at odds with both Gaius and the Dianic League, and is probably the man behind the attempts upon your life. And you are already, I believe, acquainted with the political leanings of Lord and Lady Aquitaine."
Isana felt her hand clench into a fist. "Indeed. They will be there as well?"
"Almost certainly," Serai said. "Gaius's most loyal High Lords rule the Shield cities in the north. It is a rare year that more than one can attend, and this winter has been a particularly hard one on the northern High Lords."
"You mean that Gaius's supporters may not be there to protect me."
"In all probability," Serai said.
"Is there any chance at all of successfully reaching Gaius if we go to this party?"
"Slim," Serai said, her tone frank. "But it definitely exists. And your favor with the Dianic League should not be forgotten, either. They have long waited for a woman to attain Citizenship outside the structure of marriage or the Legions. It is in their interest to preserve and support you."
Nedus growled, "Is the League going to walk the street next to her and make sure your assassin doesn't take her on the way there?"
Isana felt her fingers shaking. She pressed them against her forehead, and said, "You're sure we can't reach Gaius by any other means?"
"Not quickly," Serai said. "Until Wintersend is over, our options are severely limited."
Isana forced herself to ignore her fear, her worry. She had no desire to die, but she could not allow anything to stop her message, regardless of the danger. Wintersend would not conclude for days. Tavi could be in danger even now, and her brother would surely face it before another day had passed. She did not have time to wait. They did not have days.
"Very well," Isana said. "It would appear that we must go to a party."
Chapter 17
It was late afternoon by the time Fidelias returned from gathering information from his contacts in the rougher parts of Alera Imperia. He emerged from the labyrinthine passages in the Deeps into the wine cellar of Aquitaine's manor, and it was a relief to arrive in an area where prying eyes were most unlikely to single him out for attention. He moved directly up the servant's staircase to the top floor of the mansion, where the lavish master suite of High Lord and Lady Aquitaine lay sprawled in luxurious splendor.
Fidelias entered the sitting room of the suite, walked across to the cabinet where a selection of spirits was kept, and helped himself to the contents of an ancient bottle of blue glass. He poured the clear liquid within into a broad, shallow glass, and took it over to a thickly padded chair before broad windows.
He sat down and closed his eyes, sipping slowly at the liquid that felt ice-cold to his lips.
A door opened behind him. Light footsteps moved into the room. "Icewine," murmured Lady Aquitaine. "You never struck me as the type."
"I arranged signals with my contacts a long time ago-in this case, ordering a drink. Back then I was fool enough to drink five or six firewines in a night."
"I see," Lady Aquitaine said, and sat down in the chair facing his own. Her personal presence was magnetic. She had the kind of beauty that most women would not know to envy-not that of transient youth, though her skill at watercrafting certainly allowed her to appear as young as she would wish. But instead, Invidia Aquitaine's beauty was something that could only be emphasized by the passing of years. It was founded on a rock-solid strength that carried through the lines of her cheekbones and jaw, and continued in the dark granite of her eyes. Lady Invidia's entire bearing and mien was one of elegant power, and as she sat down in her scarlet silk dress and faced Fidelias, he sensed that strength and felt the coolly restrained edge of anger that touched her voice as lightly as autumn's first frost. "And what did you learn?"
Fidelias took another slow sip of the cold drink, refusing to be rushed. "Isana is here. She is in the company of Serai."
Lady Aquitaine frowned. "The courtesan?"
"The Cursor," Fidelias said. "Or so I suspect her to be."
"One of Gaius's secret hands?"
Fidelias nodded. "Highly probable, though like the Cursor Legate, their identities are never openly revealed. She is staying with Isana in the home of Sir Nedus, on Garden Lane."
Lady Aquitaine arched an eyebrow. "Not in the Citadel?"
"No, my lady. And thus far I have not been able to discover why."
Interesting," she murmured. "What else?"
I'm certain that the assassin at the windport was one of Kalare's men." How can you be so sure?"
"He wasn't a local cutter," Fidelias answered. "My informants in the city would have known something-not necessarily who had done it, but something. They knew nothing. So it had to have come from out of town. Between that and the information gained from the assassin at Isanaholt, I'm convinced of it."
"I take it you have learned nothing that could be proven in court," Invidia said.
"I hadn't realized you were preparing a suit."
She gave him a smile as slim and fine as a dagger's edge.
"Kalare is still trying to remove Isana," Fidelias said. "I suspect that his operatives are using the Deeps to faci
litate their movements."
Invidia frowned. "The caverns beneath the city?"
"Yes. Every source I spoke with reported men going missing in the Deeps. I presume that the bloodcrows are removing witnesses before they have a chance to spread word about them."
Invidia nodded. "Which would indicate multiple members of Kalarus's band."
"It would."
"But that hardly seems to make sense," Invidia said. "The attempt on Isana's life today was hurried-even sloppy. Why strike with one injured and wounded agent if others were available?"
Fidelias raised his eyebrows, impressed. "And I didn't even need to coach you to ask the right question."
"I'm not my husband, dear spy," she said, her mouth curving into a smile. "Well?"
He exhaled slowly. "You aren't going to like the answer, lady. But I do not know. There are other factors at work. These disappearances-I can't account for them. And…"
She leaned forward a little, arching an eyebrow. "And?"
"I can't be certain," Fidelias said. He took another drink of the burning cold liquid. "But I believe that there has been a disruption among the Cursors."
"What makes you think so?"
He shook his head. "Obviously, I couldn't speak to anyone directly connected to them. But those I spoke to should have known something about their recent movements, activities. But there was nothing. Not to mention that Serai is becoming very publicly involved in what is going on at great risk of revealing her allegiance."
"I don't understand," Invidia said.
"I'm not sure I do, either," Fidelias said. "There's a taste to the air." He fixed his gaze on Invidia's. "I think someone has declared war on the Cursors themselves."
Invidia arched an eyebrow. "That… would strike a crippling blow to Gaius."
"Yes."
"But who would have the knowledge to do such a thing?"
"Me," he said.
"That had crossed my mind," Invidia said. "Have you done it, then?"
Fidelias shook his head, glad that he had no need to veil his emotions in order to confound Invidia's ability at watercrafting. "No. I left the Cursors because I believe the Realm needs a strong leader-and that Gaius can no longer perform his duty as the First Lord. I bear no grudges or malice against the Cursors who serve him in good faith."
"Like the girl? What was her name?"
"Amara," Fidelias said.
"No grudge, my spy? No malice?"
"She's a fool," he said. "She's young. I have been both in my time."
"Mmmm," Invidia said. "How carefully you veil yourself from me when you speak of her."
Fidelias swirled the last bit of icewine around in his cup. "Did I?"
"Yes."
He shook his head and finished the drink. "I will learn whatever else I may. And I will move on Isana tonight."
"There are entirely too many mysteries here for my comfort," Lady Aquitaine said. "But keep in mind, my spy, that my primary concern is the Steadholder. I will not have the Realm know that Kalarus had her removed. I will be the one to weave her fate."
Fidelias nodded. "I have watchers around Sir Nedus's manor. When she steps outside, I'll know it, and be there."
"But why is she not in the Citadel?" Lady Aquitaine murmured. "Surely Gaius knows how vital she is to his continued authority."
"Surely, Your Grace."
"And with Serai." Invidia smiled faintly and shook her head. "I would never have guessed her to be Gaius's tool. I've spoken with her many times. I've never sensed any such thing about her."
"She's quite deadly at the arts of deception, my lady, and a valuable tool of the Crown. She has been sending messengers to the Citadel all during the day on behalf of the Steadholder."
Invidia frowned. "To Gaius?"
"To the boy at the Academy."
Invidia sniffed. "Family. Sentiment, I suppose."
"Word has it that he is one of Gaius's personal pages. Perhaps it is an attempt to reach the First Lord through him."
Lady Aquitaine pursed her lips. "If the palace guard is on heightened alert, and if, as you believe, the Cursors themselves are in disarray, then the channels of communication to Gaius may be entirely severed." A faint line appeared between her brows, then she smiled. "He's frightened. On the defensive."
Fidelias set his empty glass aside and nodded, rising. "It's possible."
"Excellent," she said, and rose with him. "Well. I have another dreary little gathering to prepare for, Fidelias-and at Kalarus's manor, no less. Perhaps I might glean some more information. I will leave you to see to the Steadholder."
Fidelias bowed to Lady Aquitaine and stepped back to withdraw.
"Fidelias," she said, just before he reached the door.
He paused, and looked over his shoulder.
"The Steadholder represents a significant political threat to our plans. You will deal with her tonight," she said. "Failure is unacceptable."
The last words held a frosted edge of steel.
"I understand, my lady," he told her, and paced back toward the shadowed entrance to the Deeps.
Chapter 18
Tavi slept like the dead and woke when someone gave his shoulder a brisk shake. He stirred slowly, his muscles tight with the discomfort of hours of motionless sleep, and wiped drool from his mouth.
"What?" he mumbled. The dormitory room he shared with Max was only dimly lit. From the quantity of light, it had to have been near dusk. He'd been asleep for hours.
"I said," replied a stern, rich voice, "that you should arise at once."
Tavi blinked and looked up at who had woken him.
Gaius fixed him with a stern glare. "I have no time to waste on apprentice shepherds who sleep too soundly to serve the First Lord of the Realm."
"Sire," Tavi blurted, and sat up. He shoved his hair from his eyes and tried to blink the sleep from them as well. "Forgive me."
"I expected better of you," Gaius said, his expression severe. "Behavior more like… like Antillus's bastard, for example. Fine figure of a young man, he is. An excellent reputation for loyalty. Honor. Duty. And handsome to boot."
Tavi rolled his eyes and slugged "Gaius" lightly in the stomach with one fist.
"Ooof," the false Gaius said, his voice sliding back into Max's usual pitch and cadence. The First Lord's features slid and changed, melting back into Max's own broken-nosed, rough good looks. The older boy's mouth was set in a wide grin. "Pretty good, eh? I had you going for a moment."
Tavi rubbed at the back of his neck, trying to work out a tight muscle. "Only for a moment."
"Ah," Max said. "But you know where he truly is, as well as his condition. No one else does-or that is the idea, anyway." He stretched out his legs and regarded his toes. "Besides, I've already attended the opening ceremonies to the Wind Trials and half a dozen smaller functions. All I have to do is look grumpy and keep my verbal exchanges to one or two syllables, and everyone goes leaping out of their way to keep from angering me." Max bobbed his eyebrows. "It is good to be the First Lord."
"Quiet," Tavi warned his friend, glancing around. "These quarters aren't safe for such discussion."
"They aren't exactly the first place spies are going to be looking, either," Max said, with a careless flip of one booted foot. "You got some rest?"
"So it would seem," Tavi said, wincing.
"Time to get back to work then," Max said. "Change your clothes and come with me."
Tavi rose at once. "What are we doing?"
"I'm continuing my brilliant performance," Max said. "After we two Pages attend the First Lord in his chambers, at any rate. You are advising me."
"Advising you?"
"Yes. You were the one who had the big thesis paper on furycrafting theory first year, and I'll be speaking to the… Board of someone or other."
"The Board of Speakers of the Crafting Society?" Tavi asked.
Max nodded. "Those guys. They're meeting with the First Lord to get approval for more studies of, uh…" Max squinted
up his eyes. "Arthritic Beer, I keep thinking, but those aren't the right words."
Tavi blinked. "Anthropomorphic Theorem?"
Max nodded again, in exactly the same unconcerned way. "That's it. I've got to learn all about it by the time we walk up to the palace, and you're to teach it to me."
Tavi glared at his roommate and started ripping off his old clothes, changing into fresh ones. He hadn't even bothered to undress before he collapsed on his bed, after fleeing the Black Hall that morning. He started to awaken more thoroughly before he finished re-dressing and raked his comb through his hair. "I'm hurrying."
"Oh," Max said. He bent over and picked up an envelope on the floor. "Someone slid this under the door."
Tavi took the envelope and recognized the handwriting at once. "My aunt Isana."
Outside, the evening bells began to ring, signaling the coming of twilight.
"Crows," Max swore. He rose and started for the door. "Come on. I've got to be there in a quarter hour."
Tavi folded the envelope and thrust it into his belt pouch. "All right, all right." They left the room and started across the campus toward one of the hidden entries to the Deeps. "What do you need to know?"
"Well," Max said after a few steps. "Um. All of it."
Tavi stared at the larger boy in dismay. "Max, that class is required. Essentials of Furycrafting. You took that class."
"Well, yes."
"In fact, we had it together."
Max nodded, frowning.
"And you were there most of the time," Tavi said.
"Certainly," Max said. "It was in the afternoon. I have no objection to education as long as it doesn't interfere with my sleep."
"Did you listen?" Tavi asked.
"Um," Max said. "Keep in mind that Rivus Mara sat in the row in front of us. You remember her. The one with the red hair and the big…" He coughed. "Eyes. We spent some of those lectures seeing who could earthcraft the other the most."
