“How are you able to pay for these things? Humans put much store in finance. You must know that.”
“Ah, that is courtesy of my host and benefactor, although he won’t realize he’s been so generous until we are long gone. Perhaps you know him. His name is Aurelian duReed.”
Rhuun choked on his coffee.
“Then you do know him.”
“Slightly,” he replied stiffly. “We’ve been introduced.”
“Do you know why he dislikes you?”
Because he wants the High Seat, but Yuenne can’t know I know that. “I assume it has to do with...with Lelet.”
“Well, that’s part of it. He was very annoyed with her for sneaking off to see you. Called her all sorts of names and locked her in her room. But no, that’s not the reason.”
“Then I have no idea.”
“He’s like us. A little bit. Do you remember the story of Ambassador Preeve, who never came home?”
“Of course. He was murdered to make the Weapon. What about him?”
“Before he was dispatched, he managed to entice a human woman to his bed. This Aurelian fellow is his great-great grandson. I’m leaving off a few greats. He only has a few drops of proper demon blood in him. He can make a little flame in his hand. He is of the impression that we are related, he and I.”
“How did he get that idea?”
“Most likely because I told him we were related. Sally and I needed a safe haven and funds, and he provided both to his dear uncle and niece. He opened his home to us, and in return, I was a sympathetic ear to his many complaints against you. He’s quite mad.”
“He’s a madman who is a distant cousin. Why does he hate me specifically?”
Now Yuenne looked chagrined. “Yes, that might also be because of me. I might have intimated the royal family abandoned his ancestor and left Preeve to die.”
“Is that... I never heard that before.”
“You wouldn’t have, since I made it up. At the time, I was only interested in going home and figured it would eventually come in handy to have an enemy to point him at. It worked beautifully. Aurelian has sworn vengeance on your line, and you conveniently showed up.” Rhuun began to speak, and Yuenne put up his hand. “Conveniently, after we engineered it. Oh, he has a blood pact against the va’Everlys also, which I admit I encouraged. They apparently profited from the ambassador’s death, although I frankly don’t see how. That’s the reason he’s taken up with her, you know. Anyway, he’s been very busy working on a way to call you out and humiliate her. He wants to bring down both of you and your families.”
“And how does he intend to do that?”
“Well, he’s going to marry her.”
There was a loud whooshing noise, followed by a crackling. Rhuun leapt from his seat to upend the blazing flower arrangement into a bucket of water tucked under the table. It had once been an umbrella stand, but Rhuun found he liked walking in the rain and felt it was wise thing to have water on hand. He returned to his chair and picked up his coffee, wishing it was whiskey.
Yuenne watched him with keen interest. “Have you always been able to do that?”
“No,” Rhuun replied. “Just recently. And it’s always to do with her, with Lelet.”
Yuenne now looked wistful.
This is truly a day of firsts, that he should show the contents of his mind on his face so clearly.
“I feel as if I wasted an opportunity,” Yuenne said. “Just imagine what we might have accomplished together—you on the High Seat, me guiding your hand...”
Rhuun let his disgust show on his own face.
“Or not. Too late. Oh well. Anyway, as I said, the boy is mad. And you needn’t wonder if your young lady is loyal to you. She only agreed to marry him to spare her sister.”
“Scilla?”
Yuenne smiled at the name. “No, the other one. The older one who prefers the company of ladies. He threatened to expose her affair. For some reason, he insists such a thing is an issue, although for the life of me I can’t figure out why. At any rate, he plans to ruin May and murder you.”
“He’s blackmailing Lelet into marriage.”
“Blackmail! That’s the word. I can never remember. Anyway, since I got you and the young lady into this mess, I thought I’d help you out of it before I leave.”
“What changed your mind?”
Yuenne didn’t reply.
“Thayree. She did.”
Yuenne nodded, slowly stirring a spoon through his cooling coffee. “I have a chance to change, for her. My life is now for her.” He looked up. “Anyway. There’s to be a party.”
“Yes,” Rhuun said. “I haven’t decided whether or not to attend.”
“Well, now you have.” Yuenne reached into his coat pocket and drew out a thin gold chain. A key hung from it. “Here. There is a flight of stairs and a secret study. There is a door in the wall, and inside, there is a locked drawer in a desk. In the drawer, you’ll find a few books which belong on Eriis. I feel as if I’ve helped this boy in his schemes enough. I’d like to make his path a little steeper, and taking these things will hurt him.” Yuenne paused. “I wonder if you might give them to Aelle and Ilaan.”
Rhuun nodded.
“Good. Excellent. Oh, there’ll also be a letter to his barrister. You definitely want to take that.” Yuenne rose to his feet. “Well, that’s all of it. Our ship leaves this afternoon. You won’t be seeing me again, I don’t think.” He turned to go then paused. “I hope you do get a chance to show everyone the rock underneath. Light and Wind protect you.”
“Wait,” Rhuun said. “What do you know about the Zaal’s plan?” It was a long shot, but Yuenne seemed in a mood to unburden himself.
“The Zaal? Haven’t thought of him in ages. Other than general mayhem, nothing at all. Anything else?”
Rhuun was about to say something kind, even thank Yuenne, but then he thought about Niico, and about Ilaan. “Take care of that little girl,” he said. “Don’t come back.”
Yuenne shut the door behind himself, but Rhuun could hear clearly enough. A young voice loudly piped, “Daddy, I want to see the Basadoor too. Let’s have a meeting with Dolly.” Yuenne must have said something to her, a meeting, certainly. “Ice cream and swimming,” she cried happily.
Ice cream on the beach. That sounds like fun. He held the chain up, looked at the brass key. Time to go to a party.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Mistra
Honestly, not being an adult was nothing but aggravation.
If she were only a little taller, Scilla told herself, or maybe had rings under her eyes or lines next to her mouth, then people would be forced to take her seriously. As it was, she affected only the most severe of dresses—right now, her deep indigo skirt and jacket and crisp white blouse gave the appearance of a uniform. She eschewed her family’s fine silks and her sisters’ love of hair and lip color. She couldn’t afford to look foolish. Especially not today, when she was on an errand from the Guardhouse itself. Out of respect for the person she’d be meeting with, her hair was bound in a tight coil against the back of her head. She hoped today’s demon wouldn’t be completely clear on the details of how she’d met Moth or be up to date on her long-ago friendship with Yuenne.
First, she had to convince May and Stelle she didn’t need an escort; she wasn’t frightened; her eyes were much better today—that was a lie, though; her paperwork was in order; she had cab fare; she knew the directions; and she would meet them at Auri’s party directly after. No, she wasn’t going to go home to change, this dress was perfectly appropriate for a funeral—she kept that part to herself. It was only when they agreed that if she would be working with both Moth’s trusted assistant and the family’s own lawyer it was safe for her to go alone. Reminding the pair that she’d been on her own since she was eleven seemed like a poor tactic, considering the company she’d once kept.
Next, it was displaying her papers and orders and answering half a thousand questions from mainl
y old men looking down at her from the administration desk of the Liberty Concern, that was where anything to do with crime happened. Then, she was allowed through to the back of the bluecoat’s building to the morgue. Another round of questions and more being polite to another set of pinch-mouthed men, and finally—finally—one of them took her to the room where the mage named Coll, at the instruction of his master Moth the ambassador, was examining the dead demon girl’s body.
He peered closely at the girl’s still form and only looked up when Scilla shut the door to the busy main corridor. When he did, she felt the same little thrill she’d felt when she’d first met him over the negotiating table. A serious mage. Moth’s best and favorite. He hadn’t appeared at any of the group dinners or social functions other than the party the night they’d arrived—although it was too weird to be called a party, to her mind. And he wasn’t a sour face old man. He was only a little older than May, although it was admittedly hard to tell. He was only slightly taller than she herself.
Instead of saying hello or spouting off a nicety about seeing her again like a civilized person would have done, he asked, “Where’s the human from the Guardhouse?”
Off to a great start. “I’m the human. I’m Scilla va’Everly, the one who promised you your dirt. Remember me?” When he didn’t react beyond a nod, she continued, with some relief. “Brother Clare said he’d had enough of demons and told me to take over.” She put her hands on her hips. “You know, for a bunch of people who do nothing but talk about demons, you’d think they’d be more excited when you all started showing up. Anyway, I’m to observe for the Guardhouse.” She looked at the mage more closely. His black robe was faded. The sun of Eriis would do that, but funny that Moth wouldn’t have given him a new one for the trip. Well, the ambassador had a plateful of other problems. “A lot’s happened since that awful party.”
He cocked his head. “Awful why?”
“Ugh, a million reasons. Moth and Lel were fighting. Rane was in trouble.” She indicated the woman on the marble slab. “Because of her. And Moth’s uncle was making cracks about his mother. Food was good though.”
“You humans provided most of it, if I recall.” Coll raised his eyes, and they met hers for the first time. “Cracks are insults?”
She nodded.
“Not a child. I gathered as much from our sessions. Very well. We have work to do.”
Her heart beat faster. Finally, something interesting was going to happen.
He reached for a book and flipped to a page covered in tiny script. “I’ll need you to read this out loud. My hands will be occupied.”
Scilla’s heart sank. She took the book and struggled to make the letters come into focus, moving it further and closer. “What are you—are we doing?”
“I have a tincture to be applied to the eyes.” He must have caught the way she jerked up her head because he added, “Not yours. We’ll get back to those. I’ll apply it to this deceased person’s eyes, and those who are present will be able to watch the last things seen.” He removed a finger-sized flask of some deep red liquid from the inside of his robe. “It’s made with the blood of your friend the ambassador, among other things.”
“Really?” She leaned in for a better look. It seethed inside the glass, crawling up the sides. Bits of darker somethings suspended in the fluid caught the light. “Nasty. How does it work?”
“It is said that the eye has a way of remembering what it sees. This along with the charm you hopefully will read will render it visible to us.”
Seeing the murder as it happened, that would be a powerful thing. They’d be witnesses. But it would be their word against the evidence, and both she and this mage were connected to Rane. She frowned. “How many times can you do this?”
He shrugged. “As often as I like, as long as I have the—”
“No, how many times can you do this to her.”
“Oh. Just the once. I see your point. We’ll wait for the others to arrive. And then we’ll see what he saw in the last moments of his life.”
“Wait. He?” She knew demons were different, but this was obviously a pretty young woman.
“Of course. You’re a clever human. The power of the word flows through you. Can’t you tell?”
Her lips thinned. “As you noticed, my eyes are...a trouble spot. I’m not seeing it. Why do you think this is a man?”
“He’s been charmed. It’s convincing enough, but whoever applied it left a few things out.” He allowed himself a sneer. “An amateur, I think.”
“Who is an amateur?” The judge who had overseen Rane’s delivery to the Retreat of Repair waited for his colleague, the va’Everlys’ barrister, to follow him in then closed the door to the small viewing room behind him. Without waiting for an answer, he continued. “New evidence.” The judge had a small twist to his lips. “I don’t see anything new. It’s the same dead creature, er, woman. In light of what I’ve already seen, I can’t imagine—”
“There’s something wrong with this body,” said Coll.
The judge looked the small man up and down, taking note of his well-worn robe and alien eyes, and turned to the barrister. “Do you vouch for this...person?”
“Yes.” He didn’t sound happy about it. “He’s in the employ of the ambassador.”
“At least that one was the right size,” muttered the judge.
“I can hear you,” said Coll mildly. “While my ears may be smaller than yours, they are no less sharp.”
“Thank you both for coming, I know it’s close to dinner,” said Scilla, hoping to change the subject away from ears and their sizes. “This is Coll, the greatest mage in Eriis, and the Ambassador’s closest confidant.” He shot her a glance, and she smiled sweetly. “We are fortunate he’s agreed to help us.”
“Very well.” The judge drew closer to the dead demon girl. The sheet exposed her face and hands. Her complexion had gone from golden to slightly gray. Other than that, she was perfectly preserved. The representative of the Guardhouse had put a holding charm on her body. His body, thought Scilla. And that old man missed it, too.
“What, exactly, is wrong with this young...er...lady’s body? Other than her being dead, of course.” The barrister came close to snickering.
“She is someone’s daughter,” said Scilla. She forced herself to put her hand on the dead girl’s—boy’s sheet covered shoulder. “Just because she’s from somewhere else doesn’t make her less important.”
The man looked abashed and moved behind the judge. Scilla noted a full-on look of appreciation from Coll out of the corner of her eye.
“Let’s get on with whatever you’ve got planned,” the judge said.
“One moment,” said the barrister. “Scilla, I represent your family. Perhaps your father wouldn’t approve of your being here? After all, a child shouldn’t be exposed to this sort of—”
“She is my assistant,” said Coll, “perhaps the finest I’ve ever worked with.” He gave the barrister a cool look. “Tell me, if while I work, I am struck down or unable to continue, would you be able to finish the charms if my assistant is removed?”
Scilla had a sudden desire to throw her arms around the little man, although she was certain he wouldn’t appreciate it.
The barrister frowned. “Your father will hear about this,” he said.
“I certainly hope so,” she replied.
“May we move on? First things first.” Coll pulled yet another flask out of his robe. Secret pockets. Maybe that’s why he didn’t want a fresh robe. “We must set this body to right.”
This flask, made of pitted and cloudy glass, had nothing more exotic than sand in it, as far as Scilla could tell, and Coll uncorked it and tossed it onto the corpse’s face. He chanted in a voice like wind through the eaves, a storm above their heads, thunder and hail that shook the walls, and it got loud enough that the three humans stepped back and covered their ears. When he was done, they moved closer, staring and in shock.
The dead demon girl wa
s gone. In her place laid a tall and fair-haired young man. Billah’s blank, dead eyes stood wide open, gazing at nothing.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Mistra
May fiddled with her clutch as Stelle stepped down from the cab.
“Stop fussing,” Stelle said, putting a gloved hand over her own.
“Sorry.” May forced her hands to her sides and took a deep breath. Their cab pulled away and made room for another in the line waiting to arrive at Auri’s house. Well, Auri’s and Lelet’s, now. That remarkable letter had said it was Lelet’s pleasure to step in as a Second since she—May—and Rane were both “ill-equipped for the rigors of married life on the Mistran stage.” It went on the hope there were no tender feelings and to invite both ladies to an upcoming event, a celebration of all the involved parties. Stelle was invited to speak a few words in her area of expertise, regarding Mistra’s renewed friendship with Eriis, and in fact the ambassador himself would be in attendance. It was clear that somehow Auri had found out about her and Stelle and he was using it to push her aside in favor of Lelet and himself. Stelle’s suggestion was for an armed party visiting Auri at once, and she could have it fully stocked with bully boys within the hour. The offer was tempting but tabled as a last resort. There was no deliberation. They agreed they had to go, if only to see that Lelet was safe.
Based on the contents of the letter, May assumed this party was Auri’s way of both announcing his engagement to a lady with a number after her name and throwing it in the face of that lady’s former lover. He’d made a good show of it, at least here in front. The drive was golden with the light of a dozen knee-high, wrought-iron hurricane lamps. Marking the path to the door were tall vases of white roses with deep green pine boughs, and the lawn itself was immaculate, not a stray wildflower or weed. A fountain gurgled somewhere, and inside, people chatted in low voices, ice and glassware clinked, and soft music played. They brushed the backs of their hands together, their public kiss, and went inside.
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