Black On Black (Quentin Black Mystery #3) (37 page)

“Where are we going?” I bit my lip, fighting not to react to his blatant bullying of Black. “He shouldn’t have to walk this far...
 
even with help. We could have walked a hundred steps and no one would have heard us.”

Uncle Charles smiled indulgently, again making that soft clicking sound with his tongue. “Ah, you really
don’t
know very much about us yet. Do you, my Miri?”

At my annoyed look, he held up a calming hand.

“...I fully intend to explain. With seers, ‘overhearing’ is more about our sight than our ears.” He gazed out over the pyramid, his voice thoughtful. “..Seer sight cares nothing for walls. Or doors, my Miri. It cares only marginally about distance, and then only under certain circumstances. And yet, we still have ways of keeping things secret from one another, in spite of our abilities. One of those is to design special spaces we call ‘constructs.’”

He glanced down at me, his green eyes studying mine for comprehension.

“A construct could be described as a fenced-off portion of the psychic space, my dear. What we call ‘The Barrier.’” He glanced at Black’s back, then at me. “Is any of this familiar to you, child? I don’t want to overwhelm you with new terms and ideas all at once.”

Despite my annoyance with him around Black, Uncle Charles calling me “child” didn’t really bother me––maybe because the way he said it sounded strangely formal. I got the sense it was another of those seer customs, like seers calling one another “brother” and “sister.” Either way, I blew it off.

Thinking about what he’d just told me, I nodded slowly. “Some of it’s familiar. Black’s mentioned the Barrier.”

I didn’t say anything about Black’s journals.

Uncle Charles’ expression remained unreadable as his eyes flickered to Black. He seemed about to say one thing, then switched direction before he actually spoke.

“Well, the short version is, I had my people set up a construct in Richelieu. Constructs have a spacial dimension as well as a nonphysical one, so generally are centered on a specific structure. Stone is ideal for this. Paris, thankfully, has that in abundance.”

It occurred to me to wonder who he thought might be listening in exactly.

For all I knew, he meant his own people, though.

Details like that weren’t high on my list of priorities at the moment, especially since he’d just reminded me that he set Black up to be killed by Ian.

“Not killed,” Uncle Charles corrected.

“What then?” I said drily. “Were you just giving them some guy time to work out their differences?”

“I knew you were on your way.”

“So what? You say that like it’s some kind of explanation...
 
or an excuse!”

“Not an excuse, certainly. An explanation of sorts, yes.”

I didn’t hide my anger, or the hostility that went through me like an electrical current. “And just what the fuck is that supposed to mean...
 
uncle?
Because I admit, your ‘explanation’ went a bit over my head, I’m afraid.”

Pain moved tangibly over his expression. Seconds later, I felt it coming off him too, strongly enough that it tightened that fist in my chest all over again.

I’d hurt his feelings. I could feel that, too.

It infuriated me that I cared. After all this time, after everything he’d put me and Black through, it struck me as delusional in the extreme.

“I know you have questions,
ilya,”
he said, softer. “About old things...
 
as well as new ones. I’m also aware of your...” He glanced at Black, and a tangible curl of hostility came off him, the strongest one yet. “...of your
condition
at the moment. I won’t be able to satisfy you on all of those fronts tonight, my love. Possibly I won’t
ever
be able to satisfy you, or succeed in winning back your trust. But I intend to try.”

He glanced around us, still holding my shoulder tightly with his arm.

“I do not wish to broadcast some of these things where others might hear them, however. This is for your safety...
 
as well as your partner’s, believe it or not. I may not be overly fond of him personally, but I fully intend to honor your connection to him,
ilya.”

Clenching my jaw, I glanced at Black.

Reluctantly, after turning over my uncle’s words, I nodded.

“Thank you,” he said, softer still.

We walked the rest of the way to the outer doors of the Richelieu in silence.

Instead of entering via the archway across from the pyramids, what I knew to be called the Richelieu Passage, we walked to the far western edge of the wing instead, where it nearly touched the road. We reached the corner of the building and the same ritual was repeated as had been done at the outer doors of Denon. The two seers pulled out an old-looking keychain and began unlocking the iron gates.

Once they’d unlocked a second gate and the door that lived behind that, Uncle Charles and I filed in behind Black and his two escorts. I found myself in a cold, dark passageway, obviously meant only for security personnel and other staff.

We walked down that cave-like corridor a short way, then the same seer pulled out a different set of keys. Opening a smallish door with a copper-colored key, he swung it inward.

Light filled the featureless stone tunnel.

Uncle Charles clicked his fingers, a sound that echoed sharply in the dark.

The two seers holding Black brought him in ahead of us. I followed when Uncle Charles urged me to walk in front of him, ducking down to pass through the short door.

Once inside, I stopped dead, looking up and around me in surprise.

Sixteen

TEST

A LONG TABLE stood in front of us, decorated from above by three crystal chandeliers. Gold trim decorated the walls on all sides as well as the edges of the ceiling, which contained a painting of sky and clouds in the arched center panel.

Images of stags and forest scenes decorated other murals between the gold patterns, and blood-red velvet curtains framed tall windows to my right. On my left I saw an observation walkway for when tourists moved through here and a fireplace-like cabinet stood next to where we emerged, maroon with gold detail and a clock face in the top. The table itself was empty but for a white tablecloth covered with giant silver and brass candlesticks. I couldn’t help noting that each of those looked heavy enough to kill someone with a single blow.

I hoped I wouldn’t have to test that theory.

I recognized the time period. Seeing the giant “N” symbol embroidered into the back of a throne-like chair at the other end of the room more or less verified my guess.

I looked around in a kind of daze as they brought Black to one of the elaborate chairs around the table, spreading out a waterproof-looking cloth before they lowered his weight into what had to be a priceless antique. One of the seers made a series of elaborate hand-gestures to Black, communicating something to him.

Whatever had been conveyed, Black nodded.

The same seer began undressing him, unfastening the buckle of his blood-soaked belt and removing it before he began untying the shirt Black had used as a makeshift bandage. The seer moved efficiently, deftly, wholly businesslike. Seconds later, he was tugging the T-shirt Black still wore over his head, leaving him shirtless and shivering. I tore my eyes off him when I realized I was staring, looking back at Uncle Charles with gritted teeth.

“So we’re inside this construct thing now?” I said. “We’re free to talk?”

He held out his hands in a prayer-like gesture, his expression troubled. “Yes, Miriam. What would you like to know first?”

I pointed at Black without looking at him. “Him,” I said. “Why did you take him? What the hell have you been doing to him? And why did you leave him there for Ian if you didn’t mean to kill either of us?”

Uncle Charles, or “Lucky”––as I supposed I should think of him now––gave me an openly startled look. “I thought that would be obvious, given what you now know.”

“Obvious?” I looked at Black in spite of myself, wincing as he did when the seer kneeling there began to clean the twin holes in his side, using some kind of disinfectant. “Well, it’s not,” I said, turning back to my uncle. “Why did you make him hunt Ian, when you obviously had the ability to capture Ian yourself? Why did you take him at all? What was that bullshit about making Black pay some kind of ‘debt’ to you for helping us in Bangkok... ?”

Uncle Charles sighed, clicking softly.

When he looked at me next, I knew I wouldn’t like what he was about to say.

He took a half-step back, making a calming, wave-like gesture with one hand.

“I needed to check him out, Miriam,” he said. “That’s all this was. He was never in real danger. Not from me.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Check him out? What does that mean? How?”

“What do you mean, how?” Uncle Charles let out a humorless sound, aiming another of those graceful hand gestures at Black. “I have
one person
left in my bloodline family, Miriam...
 
one. My brother is dead. His human wife, dead. My other niece, dead. I have no children of my own, and quite probably never will.”

He aimed an overtly hostile look at Black.

“I think I am protecting this person...
 
whom I dearly love, even apart from my obligation to her as a carrier of my bloodline...
 
when suddenly, the person I hired to watch over her tries to kill her. Weeks later, she is attacked, raped...
 
abused. Why does all of this occur, I wonder?”

Again the angry stare at Black.

“...All of this occurs, Miriam, directly or indirectly, because my darling, beloved, most-favorite and
only surviving
niece is being actively courted by a seer I know absolutely
nothing
about. In fact,
all
I know about him, apart from the aforementioned tragedies he’s bestowed on my dearest Miriam in the space of less than six months...”

Again that hard stare at Black.

“...Is that he managed to amass a small fortune giving stock tips to humans. That he’d worked as a soldier and mercenary...
 
again,
for humans.
Oh, and he’d refused
repeated
and quite well-meaning attempts over the years to reach out to him, to bring him into more direct contact with members of his own kind. He had no interest whatsoever in any offers I made to provide him with more than this petty, quasi-human life of his. He’s more or less thumbed his nose at the rest of his kind living on New Earth since he arrived...”

I felt a whisper of anger off Black.

As for me, I was staring at my uncle, my jaw hanging.

“...I wasn’t about to let another...
 
renegade
...
 
get my only surviving relative killed. Or indoctrinate her into his anti-seer ways. So when I realized you two were getting involved...
 
and that it appeared to be mutual...
 
I pulled him. I wanted to check him out for myself. More than that, I felt I needed to have a little talk with him. Elder to youth. Seer to seer. Male to male, if you prefer. A serious one, this time.”

“You...” I stammered the words. “...Pulled him?”

“Yes.”

“You...” I glanced at Black, then stared at Uncle Charles. “You did this because of me?”

“Yes! Yes! Of course, I did, Miri. Have you not been listening to me?”