The Black Tide

by Keri Arthur

  “Please, come this way.” She swept the curtain to one side and waved me through. This second room was all white-and-gold opulence, with mirrors on the wall and a plush but comfortable-looking chair to one side. Beside this was a small gold table that held fruit and a number of beverage options.

  “If madam would sit, I’ll pick out a number of designs for you.” She paused, looking me up and down. Whether I came up to expectations I couldn’t say, as her expression gave little away. “Would you like something to eat? A glass of champagne, perhaps?”

  My smile felt somewhat tight as I perched on the edge of the chair. “No. Thank you.”

  She nodded and disappeared into the other room. Cat happily followed her, and proceeded to describe in a rather awed tone the various dresses that were being collected and placed onto a clothes rack.

  The woman returned and the so-called fun began as she ushered me in and out of various material scraps. Bear returned in the midst of all this.

  Jonas doesn’t believe Branna knows about your Cat identity, but he is aware that you’ve infiltrated the elite's circle.

  Which was almost as bad—unless, of course, Charles wasn’t the only one there with a new woman on his arm. I carefully peeled off a flimsy piece of purple gossamer and said, And the charms?

  Will look like the bracelets she used to change Jonas’s appearance to that of a wrinkled old man, Bear said. Only instead of strings they’re made from interlaced wire, and will be either gold or silver, depending on whether they’re magic or psi indicators, or a preventative measure against either.

  Which meant I just had to hope the elite were not into ostentatious displays of jewelry at such events, as that would make the task of spotting the charms all that much harder. I slipped another dress on and Cat sung her approval even as the woman made a sound of satisfaction. I glanced at one of the many mirrors. The dress was little more than a sleeveless sheath that clung to my curves as it fell to my knees. For the most part the silvery material was transparent, but there were four “modesty” lines of violet blue and rich jade sequined geometric patterns across my breasts, and a similar set that ran from my right hip to my left.

  “Perfect,” the woman said. “Just perfect.”

  It sparkles, Cat said. All princess dresses should sparkle.

  I can't remember princess dresses showing a person's butt, Bear commented.

  Have you not been paying attention? Cat said, in a tone that was mildly superior. They all show her butt. It’s the fashion.

  My lips twitched as I fought to restrain my amusement. “Are you sure it’s not too revealing?” I turned around to study the aforementioned butt. The geometric patterns only covered the front of the dress, so I might as well have been wearing nothing for all the coverage this dress gave my back.

  “It is, in fact, a little more demure than what has been popular this year,” the woman commented. “But it does suit you.”

  “Then I’ll take it.”

  The woman beamed as she quoted a price that could have kept me in supplies for the next six months. I swallowed my shock, ran the RFID chip across the scanner she produced, and held my breath as I waited for the payment to go through. Which, thankfully, it did.

  Once I was dressed and my purchase carefully wrapped, I headed back to the apartment. Can we investigate the area while you sleep? Cat asked.

  I nodded. “Just don’t cause any trouble. And don’t go too far.”

  We won’t, they intoned.

  As they raced away, giggling with excitement, I headed upstairs. In very little time, I was sleeping the sleep of the truly exhausted.

  I woke just as the first traces of evening stained the skies high above Central's endless daylight. After stretching the kinks out of my body, I padded down the stairs to grab something to eat. Charles might have said there would be food available tonight, but I suspected I might not be able to eat all that much. That niggling sense of unease was growing, and my muscles were twitchy—tight. Neither sensation was all that strange, even if I hadn't felt them much since the war. Back then it had been caused by walking into an unknown and dangerous situation that could all too easily blow up in my face—and with Branna on the loose, that was a very real possibility tonight.

  Once I’d finished my ham and cheese omelet, I reached out for my ghosts. Cat answered immediately, her happiness so fierce the air around her sparkled.

  The women in this area are fascinating, she said. They don't seem to do anything more than chat and eat. It's very strange.

  I smiled. “Where's Bear?”

  Jonas called him. She paused. But he's on his way back now.

  The niggling sense of unease sharpened abruptly. Bear appeared and said, Jonas sent you this, and also wants you to remove the RFID chip from your left arm.

  A small silver vial appeared out of the center of his energy and dropped into my hands. I frowned and turned it over in my hands. “What is it?”

  Sleeping potion, in case you need to escape Charles.

  I raised my eyebrows. “Why would Jonas think I’d need to escape Charles?”

  He didn't. Nuri did.

  “Did she say why?”

  No.

  Typical. I placed the vial under the bench, out of immediate sight. “Why does he want me to remove the second RFID? Nuri rendered it inert, so it shouldn't register when I go through a scanner.”

  Normal scanners, no, but the Crystal Ballroom has full bioscanners on all entrances, and he said they’ll pick it up.

  Which would raise alarms, because while all citizens were required to have an RFID chip, no one was supposed to have two.

  I started opening the kitchen drawers until I found a knife sharp enough to cut into my skin, but fine enough not to make too large a wound.

  With it in hand, I walked up to the bathroom, sat cross-legged within the shower cubicle, and began the deep breathing exercises that would throw me into the healing trance. But I didn't slip all the way down—I just went far enough to control both the pain and the bleeding while maintaining enough awareness to guide the knife.

  It was a rather weird sensation to cut deep into my skin but feel so very little. Blood welled sluggishly, and muscles parted as I dug down for the chip. Silver soon glimmered deep within the red; I flicked it out then imagined the bleeding stopping and the wound closing up. When both had happened, I pushed up out of the trance and glanced down at my arm. There was no evidence of the cut, not even a scar—just a solitary trickle of drying blood. The precision of my healing skills really had sharpened dramatically since Jonas and I had been caught in that rift. Usually there would have at least been a faint line.

  I picked up the RFID chip, placed it and the knife outside the cubicle, and then stood.

  Cat came racing in. Charles is here.

  “What?” I glanced at the nearby comms unit and saw it was only seven. “He's early.”

  And cross, I think.

  I swore softly as the unit’s chime sounded.

  “Catherine? It’s Charles. I realize I’m early but—”

  I pressed the audio button, cutting him off. “Is there a problem, Charles? It's not eight o'clock yet.”

  “I know, but there's been a last-minute format change and they've decided to do the inauguration process earlier. It's thrown the whole council into something of a tizz.”

  “I'm not ready just yet, but it shouldn’t take long to be so.” I buzzed open the door. “Come in and make yourself a drink.”

  I quickly hid the chip and the bloody knife, and then stepped into the shower. Charles appeared a few minutes later, a drink in hand. His nostrils flared slightly, and I realized with horror he’d caught the scent of blood. I shifted, drawing his gaze and attention. His hunger stirred, and that teasing, metallic scent seemed to have been forgotten.

  “Do they often change the schedule like this without warning?” I asked, as the shower switched from clean to drying mode.

  “No, but apparently the chancellor has been poorl
y of late. They've altered the program so she's not kept out of her sickbed too long.”

  I raised eyebrows, even as I wondered who the chancellor was and what she actually did. “Why get her out at all? Could a replacement not be found?”

  “No.” He grimaced. “It is a matter of tradition that the chancellor performs the ordaining ceremony and hands the family’s crest to the heir, so that they can then place it in the wall of acknowledgment.”

  None of which made much sense to me. I brushed past him and went down to my bedroom. Charles followed, his hunger growing as I combed my short hair into order and then got dressed.

  I walked across to the small wardrobe and paused, glancing at him. “Is footwear in or out at these things?”

  “Out in the actual ballroom, but required until then.” He drained the rest of the alcohol. “The streets are rather unclean, after all.”

  The streets were pristine in my opinion, but then we had been raised in very different environments.

  I slipped on a pair of silvery sandals, grabbed a coat to cover my near nakedness until we got to the ballroom, and then smiled at Charles. “Right. Ready.”

  His gaze swept me and came up approving. “Perfection. I have transport waiting.”

  We headed out. Said transport was a two-person air taxi. The driver opened the door and ushered us inside then, once we were seated, climbed into the driver side. As the vehicle rose, I said, “Where exactly is the Crystal Ballroom located? I’ve heard of it, but never been there or talked to anyone who has.”

  “It’s within the Government House complex.”

  “And everyone from the House of Lords is expected to go?”

  “As well as anyone who is any position of power within governmental halls.” He glanced at me sideways, his expression curious. “How can you not know any of this?”

  I smiled, though it felt tight. Uneasy. “As I said, it's not as if I've ever had the good fortune of receiving an invitation to such an event before now.”

  “Yes, but the intricacies of the government and the House of Lords is something that is taught at primary level.”

  “Which was a long time ago for me, Charles.” I placed a hand on his thigh and lightly brushed my fingertips across his groin. His cock responded instantly. “And it's very cruel of you to remind me of that.”

  He laughed softly then drew me in his arms and the matter of my education gap was quickly forgotten. As the taxi came to a halt, Charles released me. “Shall we continue this matter later?”

  “Of course,” I murmured, and looked past him.

  We'd landed on a rooftop rather than in the street in front of Government House as I'd expected, and there were dozens of other air taxis zipping in and out of the airspace around us. Men and women walked sedately toward an elevator tucked in one corner of the roof, a vivid parade of color and style. Lining either side of the carpeted walkway were at least a dozen armed guards. I climbed out of the taxi and glanced upward; two gunships hovered above us. They definitely weren't taking any chances when it came to security.

  I slipped my coat over one arm then my other through Charles’s. As we joined the queue walking toward the elevator and the scanner in front of it, I said, Cat, Bear, do you want to start checking everyone, and see if you can find Nuri's missing charms?

  They immediately raced away. My stomach tightened as we drew near the bioscanner, and fear skittered, even though my RFID chip had been fully programmed for this identity.

  “Shoes and coat in the tray, ma'am.” The guard’s voice was deferential but firm.

  I obeyed, then walked through the scanner. Light swept my entire body and my RFID chip oddly tingled as its information was calibrated with the scanner results. No alarms sounded and the guard politely motioned for me to continue.

  I collected my items and then stopped nearby to wait for Charles. The elevator took us down two floors and opened to utter opulence.

  The Crystal Ballroom was well named. The room itself was a long, rather narrow expanse of white, with a stone floor that was shot with veins of silver and gold. Three rows of beautiful chandeliers ran the length of the entire room, filling the space with a glittering, almost surreal light. There were no windows; instead, vast mirrors lined every wall. They not only gave the room a feeling of space but also reflected the light and the riot of color that was its inhabitants.

  A blue-clad figure appeared in front of us and bowed lightly. “Your coat and shoes please, madam and sir.”

  We handed them over. Charles placed his hand against my spine and guided me toward the stairs that led down to the ballroom proper. Another man waited here, and he was holding a thick golden staff with some sort of bird of prey atop of it. He hit it against the floor three times and then said, in a voice that echoed, “The Lord Charles Fontaine, first son of Jacob, heir to the seat of the Fontaines, and potential initiate to the House of Lords. Accompanying him is Catherine Lysandra.”

  It was the first time I’d heard the surname I’d been given, and it was one that meant “she who was freed.” It made me wonder if Nuri was simply having some fun or trying to tell me something. The last surname she’d gifted me with—Zindella—had meant “man’s defender.”

  “Potential initiate?” I said, as we made our way down the stairs under what felt like a million critical gazes.

  “Every initiate is a potential until they are officially confirmed by the ceremony.”

  “Ah.” I ran my gaze across the nearest cluster of people. The shop owner had been right when she'd said my outfit was demure compared to many. I'm not entirely sure why any of them had bothered getting dressed, because the bright gossamer scraps that probably cost a fortune hid absolutely nothing.

  Charles guided me through the room, stopping at the various clusters of people to introduce me. I sipped wine and made polite conversation, but the tension in me was growing and I had no idea why. Certainly there'd been no one so far who even slightly tweaked the psychic part of my soul.

  Cat and Bear returned, their excitement and wonder caressing my skin like electricity and making the small hairs on my arms stand on end.

  I love balls! Cat said. We should hold one of our own when all this is over.

  I'm not sure our bunker will ever be as pretty as this.

  But we can pretend. She paused, and then added more somberly, We have searched the entire room. No one here wears jewelry.

  Most are wearing even less than you, Bear added, something akin to bemusement in his voice. It is very strange, even if it is the fashion.

  A smile twitched my lips. I gather you also haven't spotted Branna?

  No, Cat said. But we will keep looking.

  Remember he could be wearing a disguise, I said. So if you feel an odd sort of energy hovering around someone, let me know.

  And be careful, they intoned as they raced away again.

  We continued to make our way down the long room. While Charles had implied the ball was something of a sexual free-for-all, the behavior of everyone we met was reserved.

  But maybe the veneer of politeness only cracked after the official part of the evening was done with.

  As we approached another group of people, a silver-suited, dark-skinned gentleman turned around to face us. He had close-cropped hair, eyes as dark as his skin, and a nose that dominated his otherwise unremarkable features and rather reminded me of a bird’s beak. Recognition stirred, but I couldn’t immediately place him.

  “Charles,” he said, his voice pleasant and holding the faintest hint of warmth. “It’s such a pleasure to see you again.”

  The two shook hands and then Charles said, “Catherine, I’d like you to meet my longtime friend and mentor, Julius Valkarie.”

  His name brought the memory to life. This was the man I’d used to sneak through the sensor and escape at Government House. Was it chance that he happened to be Charles’s friend, or was Rhea playing games yet again?

  I inclined my head politely. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, m
y lord.”

  “Please, call me Julius, at least during this momentous occasion.” His expression suggested I should consider it a great honor to be on such familiar terms with him. “I would love to introduce you to my lady, but I’m afraid she readies for the presentation.”

  “I heard she was poorly,” Charles said. “Nothing too major, I hope?”

  Julius shrugged. There was something in his expression that made me suspect he didn’t really care. “She’s been working all sorts of strange hours of late, so I daresay it’s merely stress.”

  “Ah,” Charles said. “The chancellor’s job is not for the faint of heart.”

  A cool smile touched the other man’s lips. “That is one attribution that can never be laid at her feet.”

  “Indeed.” Charles glanced past Julius as a bell chimed lightly. “I’m being paged. Could I ask you to look after Catherine for me? She doesn’t know anyone here, I’m afraid.”

  “I’m okay—”

  “Of course you are,” he cut in. “But it would make me feel better about abandoning you for the next hour.”

  The ceremony went for an hour? Rhea save me from boredom.... I forced a smile and dropped a kiss on his cheek. “Fine. I’ll see you afterward.”

  As Charles left, Julius swung around and offered me his arm. “Come along, lovely Catherine, and we’ll go find a comfortable position from which to view proceedings.”

  He escorted me down the room. At the far end, there was a raised platform and, on the wall behind it, six large gold-framed mirrors. In the middle of five were what I presumed were the crests representing each of the houses. The sixth was empty, and obviously waiting for Charles to place his family's crest within it.

  To either side of this, inset from the main room, were several raised seating areas. Julius walked me up the steps of the one closest to the stage and guided me to a couple of plush golden chairs in the front row.

  “So,” he said as he elegantly crossed his legs. “How did you and Charles meet?”

  “We ran into each other. Literally.”