Battle: The House War: Book Five (17 page)

Teller’s brows creased; his face lost color.

If words were a path, the turn she’d just taken was the wrong one. And had she been speaking to anyone other than Teller, she would have paid dearly for it, because she couldn’t then do what she now did. She held up a hand, den-sign, and she flexed fingers in quick succession. “I know why he couldn’t. I’ve never asked him about it. I’ve never mentioned it to him.” She swallowed. “The House Council—with the single exception of Haerrad—has done the same. But this? The missing funds are almost certainly the funds used to pay the assassin that Snow killed. I know Gabriel didn’t hire her. It doesn’t matter.

“Someone did. I can’t afford to say—and do—nothing. It will make us look incompetent.”

“So you surrender Gabriel.”

“I accepted Gabriel’s retirement, yes.” She climbed down from the desk and began to pace. “Teller, if there was
any
chance he would have stayed, I would have done anything at all to keep him. There
wasn’t
. Rymark knows how I feel about the right-kin. He knows that my hands are all but tied. If Gabriel doesn’t leave, Rymark will continue to use him because if Gabriel is his shield, I won’t strike. Come up with a better solution, and I’ll listen. I’ll listen
joyfully
.”

Finch was watching Teller; Teller was watching Jewel. After a long, long moment, Finch touched his sleeve and said, “There isn’t a better solution.”

Teller closed his eyes, drew one very long breath and exhaled. “Was this his suggestion?”

“The Chosen were his suggestion. He intends to vacate his rooms—and the manse—immediately.”

“Jay—”

Her own shoulders sagged, then. “I hate it,” she whispered. “But it doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t have done this on my own—and he knew it. But Amarais
would have
. It’s his gift to me.”

“It’s not a gift to
me
,” Teller said.

“No. But you’ve been my right-kin for most of my life. Barston will stay if you ask him. He might negotiate a higher rate of pay.”

“If Gabriel intends to leave the manse, does it mean—”

“He intends to resign from the House Council as well, yes. I need you in that office.”

“I know.”

“And I need you there now. It’s not going to be a
pretty
day, and if I had to bet, I’d bet Haerrad and Rymark are already
in
the right-kin’s office. It may put Rymark off-balance; it will certainly please Haerrad. Using either of those facts to buy me a bit of space would be highly appreciated.”

* * *

Teller left the office. Jewel did not accompany him. She watched him go, but prevented Finch from following. Finch took a seat and folded her hands in her lap, mostly to stop them from moving.

“Where are Snow and Night?” she asked, when the silence had gone on for too long.

“After the demon fled the grounds, they attempted to destroy the shadow that remained in his wake. They . . . jumped
into
it. I haven’t seen them since.”

Finch absorbed this information in silence; she glanced at the door through which Teller had escaped, as if the impulse to follow was strong. “Will Gabriel be all right?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know that I would be, in his position. But he’s not me. And you’re not Gabriel. I want to talk to you about Jarven.”

“Jarven? Why?”

“I’ve met him a number of times, but always as your boss. I know the position he holds in the Merchant Authority, and I know many people assume he holds it because of his prior competence.”

Finch nodded.

“But I know you don’t believe that’s the case. Tell me what you think I should do—as The Terafin—with Jarven.”

“Why do you have to do anything with Jarven?” Finch asked, her voice tightening, her arms drawing closer to her body. Jewel knew Finch as well as she knew Teller. “Jarven has no intention of retiring.”

“I have no intention of forcing him to retire,” Jewel quickly said. “But Gabriel’s final advice—his final request, if you will—was that I cede his House Council seat to Jarven. That wasn’t my intent,” she added softly. “Jarven has, as far as I’m aware, never attempted to gain position on the House Council. The power he holds in the Merchant Authority is of greater weight, in my opinion, than a House Council seat would be. I can’t imagine that Jarven approached Gabriel, of all people, with this request, but—” She froze.

Finch tensed again.

“No, let me take that back,” Jewel said, rising. “Gordon, Marave, accompany us. We must retire to my personal chambers for a brief period of time.” She didn’t mention Avandar by name, but it wasn’t necessary; he was her shadow.

* * *

Haval was sitting with Hannerle when Jewel arrived. He rose when he heard the knock at the door; he knew who it was. The weight of her steps in the hall, the particular tenor of her knuckles against the door, were by this time familiar. Before he could reach the door, she’d opened it, but given the way her steps had fallen, he expected no less.

“I need to speak with you,” she said, in a very chilly voice.

He raised a brow. “If it will not discomfit you, speak with me here. Hannerle will not wake.”

“Finch is here as well.”

He glanced at his sleeping wife. “Very well. Shall we retire to the great room?”

* * *

The fireplace in the great room was no longer cold and black; wood burned there. It was a decent hardwood. Clearly, Ellerson had anticipated that the space would once again be needed. Haval did not understand the domicis, but he admired them in his fashion. Had a guild of such men desired power, they would have it; they would be a very, very dangerous entity. Ellerson did not want that power. Avandar Gallais? Haval found him almost mystifying. He did not trust the man—only a fool would. But he did not understand Avandar’s ambitions, either. They were not akin to Ellerson’s, and they were in no way comparable to Morretz’s.

Haval entered the room carefully and slowly, affecting a weariness that was not entirely assumed for his own purposes.

Finch sat gingerly in one of the armchairs nearest the fire, thereby unconsciously choosing where the discussion would take place. Jewel sat heavily, the fingers of her right hand drumming the gleaming wood of armrests. Haval, of course, sat last as etiquette demanded.

“Terafin,” he said gravely.

“When you were conducting your investigation into the personal affairs of Gabriel ATerafin, was Jarven ATerafin one of your sources?”

His brows rose; his surprise at the question was not entirely feigned. “I would sooner ask Duvari for aid.”

Finch uttered a delicate, deliberate cough.

“I realize that he is in every possible way an admirable employer in his own rather impressive fief. His concerns are not, however, my concerns.”

“His concerns may be
my
concerns,” Jewel said, before Haval could draw another breath. He studied her, considering his reply. He was indeed surprised that she had asked the question, and wondered idly whether or not he had underestimated her. It did happen, although not nearly as often as he would like.

“Beyond the obvious—he
is
the titular head of the Merchant Authority offices—I fail to see how. I also fail to see how the inquiry is an emergency, given the events of the day.”

“Gabriel will, as you know, retire.”

“So you’ve said.”

“He has chosen to take his retirement today.”

Haval folded his hands in his lap. He nodded, all expression dropping away from his face. Her frown was reward for the effort.

“He had one piece of advice—one last request.”

“Please do not tell me it involved Jarven ATerafin.”

“You’re surprised? I don’t believe it.”

He smiled then. “No,” he said quietly. “You don’t. Very well. I will not answer your question; it was clumsy and irrelevant. What does Jarven want?”

“That’s what I want you to tell me. You, or Finch,” she added. “I don’t care which. I’m expecting at least a letter from the Exalted, and some missive from Duvari—if I’m lucky. Haerrad and Rymark will no doubt descend on my vacated office; I expect to see both Elonne and Marrick as well. I don’t have a lot of time.”

“What makes you believe that Jarven wants anything?”

“Gabriel asked me to install Jarven on the House Council, in the seat Gabriel will vacate. I thought at the time it was an unusual request; I’m unaware of any similar request that Jarven has made in the past. As he is
not
a member of Council now, I assume he has never made one.”

“The Terafin would not have agreed to it.”

“I’m not sure I will, either.” She frowned. “Why do you think the former Terafin would have rejected such a request?”

Haval pinched the bridge of his nose. “While I understand it has been a very trying day for you, Jewel, I feel that the answer to that question is beyond obvious.”

Finch very carefully studied her hands.

“Finch,” Haval said. She looked up. She seemed very shy and retiring, but her expression was steady. Given time, Haval thought he could make something of the girl; given Jewel, it was a pipe dream. “Please answer the question.”

She held his gaze for a long moment, and then glanced at Jewel. Jewel nodded. “Jarven does as he pleases. In the past, that has always worked well for the House—with one or two exceptions. He is observant, and he is adept. He gets what he needs, and he gets what he wants—usually by obfuscating what he wants. But he doesn’t, as Lucille is wont to say, play well with others.

“He has power. If Jarven decides that he wishes to hamper any member of the House Council, the Merchant Authority is his weapon. He has done it in the past, at least once. Putting him within reach of the governing body of the House would not gain The Terafin anything.”

“You see?” Haval said to Jewel. The implication was clear in his tone.

Jewel, however, refused to play. “Gabriel asked that the Council seat be given to Jarven. I had hopes for it, otherwise, but to be fair, Jarven is unlikely to occupy it for long. What did you ask of Jarven?”

Haval raised a brow. “I believe the delicate machinations of investigation were to be left in my hands.”

“And I believe that reports were to be tendered to me upon request. Gabriel’s acquisitions do not flow freely through the Merchant Authority—that I’m aware of. Those that do are a matter of House Business and House records.”

Haval cast a baleful glance toward the door, and Ellerson approached with tea. Haval considered adding brandy to the liquid and decided against it. “They are.”

“His personal affairs are not.”

“No. But the banking is done through similar channels. Jarven has access to most of the merchant banks, and it is a friendly—and in some cases obsequious—access. Before you lose the temper that is rapidly fraying, Terafin, I will trouble myself to point out that it was not
I
who approached Jarven.”

“Jarven approached you.”

Haval nodded.

Jewel’s gaze swiveled to Finch. Finch was silent. “Why,” Jewel asked her, “did Jarven approach Haval, and not you? You’re the most certain conduit to me, and Jarven is well aware of this.”

Finch said, clearly and distinctly, “I don’t know.” The question did not please her, in Haval’s opinion. When she lifted her chin, she looked straight at Haval. “But I believe Haval does. As it is not the information one would normally hand a clothier, we must assume that Jarven knows something we don’t.”

“Perhaps he is aware of the role I now play as Jewel’s adviser.” It pained Haval to say this.

Finch met his gaze and held it for a long moment. “That makes sense, given Jarven.”

Haval nodded.

“But, given Jarven, it makes too much sense.”

“My dear,” Haval told her, “it is a small marvel to me that you are trapped in the Merchant Authority. You are, of course, correct. There is some history between Jarven and me, and it is complex, and better left entirely unspoken. I understand why he approached me with information about Gabriel’s personal accounts—and no, Jewel, Jarven does not consider Gabriel the hand behind the assassin. He is, however, a cautious man; he allows for the possibility.”

“I don’t,” Jewel rather predictably said, tightening her grip on the armrests.

“Understood. I would have more to say about this, but if you have accepted Gabriel’s hasty retirement, you understand the political cost, regardless.”

She said nothing. He judged the whole of the day in her pinched expression. She was not—yet—at her limit, but she now trod the edge of it. Exhausted, she lacked rudimentary caution, and the subtlety that the political arena required quickly passed beyond her. “If you wish it,” he said quietly, “I will speak with Jarven.”

But Finch rose. “No, Haval.”

He raised a brow.

“I will speak with Jarven.” She paused, her expression shifting into almost open anxiety. “Jay? That’s all right?”

Jewel hesitated again, and then nodded. “I’d rather he speak to Haval, but I don’t think he’ll give Haval much.”

“I am not incapable of—”

“You’ll notice things. He’ll notice things. I think there’s a better chance that he’ll actually talk to Finch.”