Cameo and the Highwayman (Trilogy of Shadows Book 2) (2 page)

Cameo moved closer in silent awe.

“That was for you, my dear.” He flashed her a smile.

She sat down on the bench next to him. “I had no idea you were quite so accomplished.”

“My father was a music teacher.”

She studied his face for a moment, “Really? Don’t most music teachers have rather wealthy clients?”

“Yes. He lifted the glass from her hand and took a sip. “My father was a fine instructor.”

“This explains your skills with a rapier; you grew up with money.”

He set the glass on the harpsichord carelessly then, readjusting his eye patch, added, “Of course I had lessons. You must’ve known.”

She studied his clothing and his mannerisms for what seemed like the first time. The elegance of the room changed the appearance of his clothes. Somehow they didn’t look as frivolous. “You know, the Belfours all powder their faces, and the men all wear makeup.” She touched one dangling piece of lace on the cuff of his shirt, then looked up into his hazel eye. “This could be one of their expensive ensembles.”

His face twisted up into a smug little smile. “But it is. It’s that boring boy’s shirt. what was his name? Derbec?”

She had given it to him not all that long ago, taken from a heist of some minor royals. But her eyes were open now; she was beginning to suspect there was more to Opal than she had previously thought.

“I thought you were a vagabond, roaming the streets of Lockenwood since childhood?”

He inched nearer. “I’m afraid I was a bit economical with the truth.”

She could feel the warmth of his breath in her hair, which unnerved her a bit. “And… you said smallpox killed your parents.”

“Smallpox did kill my parents.” He chuckled bitterly, “Certainly that much at least is believable.”

Cameo lifted her eyes to look at his face, disfigured with smallpox scars that Opal tried to hide with heavy paint and white powder. “We’ve lied to each other quite a bit.”

“I’m being honest with you right now.” His eye traced a line from her eyes to her mouth, then back again, “Ask me anything.”

“Are you a Belfour?”

Opal grimaced, “No.”

She tilted her head to one side. “A simple no? That’s very unlike you.”

“The mere thought of
them
,” he hissed. “No, I am not part of the royal family.”

Cameo smirked. “Hmm.... I’m surprised you aren’t a little more flattered.”

“There’s nothing to be flattered about. They aren’t more important than their servants. They just think they are.” He sat back.

“Sorry I brought it up.” She hoisted the glass to her lips again and swallowed down the rest of the liquor.

He needed a drink. Opal rang the bell for service.

“I wonder where the lad’s run off to.”

“Oh, yes, I was just wondering that myself,” Opal muttered as he slid from the bench and sauntered over to the decanter of brandy. “Perhaps a cliff?”

She smiled.

The door opened slowly, and Kyrian peeked in.

Cameo motioned for him to enter. “We were just talking about you, lad.”

He beamed as he swaggered in, “Hello there.”

The former assassin raised an eyebrow, “Were you lost?”

“A little.”

“And you found your way back? How fortunate,” Opal muttered to himself.

Kyrian blushed.

“Didn’t you hear that lady downstairs when she was giving us the room key?”

“Oh no, I heard her.” He set his shoulder pack on one of the exquisite settees in the room.

Opal winced as he watched the muddy pack touch such an expensive piece.

“It’s just that I expected the numbers on the doors, but they spelled them all out instead, so it just took me a little longer.” His words seemed a bit garbled as he ended the sentence.

Opal perked up. “Why is that, lad?”

“I don’t know.”

“It can’t be spectacles, can it? Granted they can be hard to obtain in this dreary part of the world, but I’m certain we can find you something lovely. Some of the comeliest boys wear spectacles these days. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Oh.”

“Really, Opal?” Cameo remarked.

Opal grinned at her. “At least that’s what they tell me.”

She remembered very well what a lousy shot he was, and most likely close to blind himself, but he was apparently too vain to admit to it.

“It’s not that,” Kyrian muttered.

“Just how do you plan to go into the priesthood if you can’t even read from the
good books
?”

“What?” The lad finally seemed to hear what Opal was saying, “I told you on the ship that I’m not going into the priesthood.”

“Oh? Then what are your plans?” Cameo asked in a world-weary voice.

“Um....” Kyrian fished a hymnal from his pack. “Probably going with you.”

“Me?”

“Oh, no, no. Certainly not.” Opal went over to the lad. “Whatever could you mean? This is no life for you.”

“This isn’t part of that nonsense you said to me back in Lockenwood Forest, is it?” Cameo inquired, her voice dark.

Kyrian looked up at her, uncertain. “Yes.”

“This is no life for you, little Kyrian,” Opal said soothingly. “We’re wanted criminals for heaven’s sake. You don’t want to end up in trouble just for being associated with us.”

“Your grandfather was insistent that I bring you safely to the shrine in Kings Basin, and that was all there was to it. Jules burned that building to the ground.” She met his eyes sternly, “I can try to get you to another shrine, but you are not going to follow me in the hopes of saving my soul.”

Kyrian stood there, mouth agape for a few moments as if he were gathering his wits about him. “How did you know?”

Opal’s expression behind Kyrian’s back was priceless, but Cameo did not smile.

“You think your grandfather sent you on a mission to save me—”

“Not exactly.”

“I think one of those assassins hit you in the head a little too hard.”

“Why? Because I can see him?”

She stood and unbuttoned her cape, throwing it onto the settee forcefully.

“I’m crazy now?” Kyrian thumped his chest frustrated with her, “I’m crazy? When I know you see things, too?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Cameo moved to the decanter, hoping to wash away anything she had been thinking with a few more glasses of brandy.

“You saw me heal Opal. Wasn’t that real?”

She glanced up at him. There was the shape of a man standing next to him, formed by what appeared to be moving heat.

“You see him, too!”

She broke the glass in her hand suddenly. Her face was a mask of sudden rage. “Shut up!”

Kyrian and Opal watched her anxiously. Opal glanced down into the brandy he’d been drinking as if it made him suddenly sad, and Kyrian sat speechless.

Cameo left the room, disturbed by the expressions on her friends’ faces.

Kyrian watched her go, then turned around to face Opal.

The dandy traced the rim of the glass with a finger.

“Should I go talk to her?” Kyrian asked after a few moments of intense stillness.

“No.” Opal set down the brandy and pulled Kyrian down into one settee as he stood up. “I will.”

* * * * *

Cameo’s slender form was a silhouette against the glass doors at the end of the hallway. It was the only light in the exquisite passage.

She heard the distinct
click
as the latch was replaced and the door opened and shut almost silently. Then the sound of footfalls, a man’s boots on the velvet carpet.

“Hello, Opal.”

He stopped five feet from her, “Are you staying tonight?”

She turned around, her hair captured by the whiteness of the light.

“Are you all right?”

She glanced down at her hand, then back up at him. “It didn’t even break through the leather.”

He looked down at her hand and took several more steps toward her.

“I don’t want to discuss it.”

Opal tilted his head to one side and smiled, but his smile was sad. “You don’t have to disclose anything. I’m still your friend.”

She studied him for a moment. “Yes, I’m staying tonight.”

Several shadows of men raced down the hall away from her, but Opal couldn’t see them.

Opal slid one of his hands into hers.

Cameo glanced down at the appendage at the end of her arm; it felt suddenly alien with Opal’s weight pulling her arm down, then she met his thoughtful smile. The snow started to fall outside; it settled gently onto the snow-covered ground and fell into the harbor, lost forever, melting into the sea.

She looked out over the water.

“Your eyes are the color of the Azez,” Opal pointed at the water with the snow falling into it, “just as it is now,” and he smiled thoughtfully.

Cameo raised an eyebrow and half smirked.

“Skeptical as always, my dear?” he mused. “Well, it doesn’t matter.” He smoothed his hair, catching a glimpse of himself in the windowpane.

“I shouldn’t have scared Kyrian like that.”

“He’s all right,” Opal said soberly.

“I don’t know what he expects of me.” She leaned back against the wall, her black leather garments creaking. “Does he really think my soul could be saved by anyone, let alone a child?”

Opal chuckled, “Yes. Why is your soul so special? What about mine?”

She squeezed his hand. “Perhaps you are too far gone.”

He grinned at her and glanced down at their entwined fingers, and then looked back up into her eyes more seriously. “You have no idea.”

“Maybe you’ll tell me someday.” She let his hand drop and looked back out at the snow.

A pained look crossed Black Opal’s face as he processed that idea, remembering the past, but Cameo never saw it. “You want to reveal all of my secrets?” he joked. “But without a bit of mystery, my charm will simply fall away.”

She rolled her eyes, “Oh, I doubt that. I find it hard to believe that a bit of honesty will make you less charming.”

He touched his face, irritated by the smallpox scars. “And just why can’t your soul be saved?”

She laughed suddenly. “Well, for starters, I suspect I’m probably damned. I’ll bet that trumps anything you can muster. No matter how many little hearts you’ve broken in your time.”

“Hmm....” Opal breathed. “That and the murder of Prince Leon of course.”

“Oh, I know you didn’t do that because I did.”

“What?”

“Sorry, Opal.”

“You let us all take the blame for that....”

“Yes, I did.” She pushed herself into a more comfortable position against the wall, at ease with herself. “The wanted posters had already been printed. Do you really think the old king would have believed me if I had said you had nothing to do with it?”

“No. I do wish you had told me earlier.”

“Well, I’m telling you now.”

“Apparently so.” Opal chewed on his lower lip for a moment, “Why didn’t you just own up to it before?”

She shrugged and folded her arms. “Oh, what difference does that make?”

“None, I guess.... A bit of honesty won’t make you any less charming to me, though.”

“Ah. Well, because I didn’t want you to leave.”

Opal perked up. “Why not?”

“I had been alone a long time. My Master kills off the people in my life one by one, so I haven’t had any friends in my life for a long time. To spare myself the pain of losing people.” She shrugged, “To spare lives.”

“But you didn’t want me to leave?” He was suddenly feeling a surge of pure happiness filling his being. Hope.

“No, I wanted you and Bel around.”

Opal tried to push away the sadness that came just by hearing Bel’s name mentioned. Haffef had seen to it that Bel had been killed already. Black Opal knew he would be next, possibly even the next time they met up with him.

“Bel as well .... Why us?” was all he mustered up.

She hesitated because it seemed so cold, so arbitrary and not what he wanted to hear. “You’re fun.”

His heart sank.

She watched the expression on his face fall into sadness. “I, um.... Well, you aren’t like anyone I’ve ever met before. Fun sounds so, nothing, and that’s not exactly what I mean.”

“Well I am fun,” he smiled a false smile.

“And very interesting.”

“Obviously,” he glanced over at her half-heartedly.

“Opal, if I didn’t enjoy being around you, I wouldn’t be.”

“Please stop now. I know I’m fantastic. You don’t have to keep going on about it.”

She watched him for a moment.

By habit, he pulled out a small mirror and examined his appearance. Liking what he saw, he replaced it and found her staring at him. “What?”

“I don’t mean to hurt you.”

He grinned at her. “I have no idea what you’re going on about.”

“You’re like a—”

“Please don’t say that.”

She smiled thoughtfully at him. “I’m not sure what you think I’m going to say.”

The highwayman looked into her eyes, then he bit his lip as he looked back at her. “I suspect it wasn’t
a hero to me
.”

She laughed. “No.” Her eyes lingered on him, intrigued. Opal seemed ill at ease. “That jacket looks… nice on you.”

He glanced down at it. “Thank you. It is rather smart, isn’t it? I—” Opal lifted his hazel eye to her uncertainly. “Why are you toying with my emotions?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“
Like a brother
. Isn’t that what you were going to say?”

“I don’t remember now.” She ran her fingers absently over the wallpaper.

“I suspect forgetfulness comes with age.”

Cameo met his gaze, half amused and half displeased.

“Or so I’ve heard,” he smiled serenely. “So what are your plans for Villoise? Are you going to search for… that item soon?”

“My sister’s body? What’s left of it,” she said bitterly. “I sent someone to look for it.”

“Oh, who?” He was genuinely intrigued.

“Thralls.”

Opal’s eye widened. “I beg your pardon?”

“My thralls.”

“By
thralls
do you mean, servants?”

“Slaves, yes. Just as I am a slave to my Master, I also have thralls that
must
do my bidding.” She readjusted the cameo at her throat. “See, I really do have a more difficult soul to save than you, my friend.”