Fate's Edge (43 page)

In the corner, Jack tensed.

“I understand you have a most unusual magic talent.” Morell raised his voice. The gathering instantly focused on him.

“My dear baron, you give me too much credit,” George answered.

They must’ve put them through an etiquette steel wringer in the Weird. Broken teenagers didn’t radiate cold dignity like that. But then, George and Jack both were one of a kind. It was more important to George especially, Audrey reflected. George didn’t want to be viewed as an Edge rat. “I wonder if you would deign to entertain our guests with a small demonstration? I myself have never witnessed necromancy in action.”

It was a test, Audrey realized. Kaldar had passed his evaluation, but Morell still wanted to be sure he wasn’t being conned.

The servant opened the box. Audrey rose to see. Three small dead birds lay inside, their blue feathers dull. Above the room on the right balcony a Texas sharpshooter sighted George through the scope of his rifle.

“I do hope you didn’t take these lives for mere entertainment,” George said.

“No, this was the result of an unfortunate accident, I’m afraid,” Morell said.

George surveyed the birds. “Beautiful plumage. Are these a common bird to California?”

George was screwing with him. It was a dangerous game to play.

“Yes.”

Come on, George. Come on.

“Do they sing?”

“I have no idea.” Morell still had his smile, but his patience was wearing thin.

The tension in the room grew so tight, it was difficult to breathe.

George stared straight at Morell. “Let’s find out.”

He passed his hand over the birds.

A second passed. Another.

Morell’s smile gained a predatory edge.

The three birds spread their wings and shot into the air, chirping a trilling melody. Someone cried out in surprise.

Jack glanced at Kaldar, a question in his eyes. Kaldar nodded.

Jack took a step back, gathering himself into a tight ball, and jumped five feet in the air. His hand closed about one of the birds. He landed, petted the bird, and opened his hand. The bird took to the air. An amber fire rolled over Jack’s irises. “Sorry. Reflex.”

George rolled his eyes with a mock sigh and glanced at Morell. “Are you satisfied, my lord?”

“Completely.”

The birds circled the room once and shot out into the hallway and through the nearest arch to the blue skies and freedom.

A good time for a private conversation. Audrey gasped and sagged, slightly limp on her chair.

Cerise grasped her hand. “Lisetta, Lisetta, are you all right?”

Morell cleared the distance between them.

“I feel sick.” Audrey pressed her hand to her mouth. “I’m so sorry.”

“Too much excitement,” Cerise said.

Morell knelt by her. “How can I help?”

“Is there a place we could move to? Somewhere private with good ventilation?”

“The atrium.” Morell rose. “Delaver, escort Lady Candra and her companion to the atrium, please. Make sure their needs are tended to.”

 

FIVE minutes later, they were seated in the atrium. Perched on top of a slender corner tower, the atrium occupied a huge round room with enormous arched windows. An artificial waterfall spilled from the opening in the wall, spreading through the creek bed, gently curving through the room. Fat orange-and-white fish floated above the gray pebbles forming the creek’s bottom. Here and there, exotic plants spread their green leaves from thigh-high flower beds bordered with stone. Garlands of vines wound along the walls, scattered with delicate cream blossoms. The air smelled of flowers.

Audrey took a place on a white love seat with a soft blue cushion. Cerise settled on a chair next to her, slipping the flower gadget under the nearest shrub. William had remained in the dining room, and the guard sent by Morell stationed himself at the doorway, far enough for their voices not to carry.

A servant appeared as if by magic, deposited an ice-frosted pitcher of lemonade and two glasses on a table in front of them, and bent double, waiting.

“Thank you, we’ll serve ourselves. You may go,” Cerise told him.

The servant departed.

Cerise watched him go. “Notice how he moves? A trained martial artist. Most of Morell’s staff are very fit. In a household of this size, you’d see some variation: someone will be fat, someone will be small, but no, most of his look like they spend hours at the gym.”

Audrey gave her a cautious glance.

“Don’t worry, the dampener is active. Even if they’re listening in by magical means, as long as we don’t raise our voices, they will hear nothing except quiet murmurs.”

A blue bird flew in through the window and perched on the stone border.

“About time, George.”

“It’s a big castle,” George’s soft voice came from the point above the bird.

Cerise poured two glasses of lemonade. “You had specific instructions from William. All you had to do was stay out of trouble until we came back. What are you doing with Kaldar?”

She slipped a small packet from her sleeve and gently tapped it above the first glass. Granules of white powder fell into the lemonade. Cerise watched them float to the bottom and moved the glass to Audrey. “No poison.”

“We decided the best course of action would be to remove ourselves from the house,” George said.

“Ah.”

“We stowed away on Kaldar’s wyvern. He didn’t know we were there until we arrived in California.”

“And this was your brilliant plan to stay out of trouble?”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Which part?” Cerise asked. “The part where you put yourself on a collision course with the Hand, or the part where you complicate a Mirror agent’s life to the point of compromising his mission?”

The bird didn’t answer.

“Or maybe it’s the part where your brother-in-law loses his head and tries to bring charges against my cousin for kidnapping you two?”

“Declan wouldn’t do that,” George said, but he sounded hesitant.

“I expected this from Jack,” Cerise said. “He gets tunnel vision, although it’s a stretch even for him. But you know better.”

The bird began cleaning under its wing.

Cerise sighed. “Do Declan and Rose know where you are?”

“I imagine they do by now.”

“How?”

“Lark was supposed to tell them.”

“So you even managed to drag my sister into this mess.” Cerise shook her head. “Jack seems calmer. Did he rend?”

“Yes.”

“Was it bad?”

“Not at all.”

“It was awful,” Audrey said. “It went on forever, and he cried at the end.”

Cerise sighed. “This conversation isn’t over. I’m not covering for you with Rose, either.”

“Understood,” George said.

“Keep the bird here, please. I’ll tap it if we need you.” Cerise turned to Audrey, stuck her bottom lip out, and blew the air out of her mouth. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“One day, I will have children with William. This is what I have to look forward to.”

“Scary,” Audrey supplied.

Cerise smiled, sharp. “I can’t wait.”

Audrey’s earlier suspicions were confirmed. All Mars were insane.

Cerise sipped a tiny bit of her lemonade. “Jack really cried?”

“Yes.”

“Would you mind telling me the whole story from the beginning?”

Fifteen minutes later, Cerise had drained most of her lemonade. “The boys kicked ass. There will be hell to pay at home, but Declan and Rose will be proud. And honestly, George is what, fourteen? Most of my family had their first taste of blood by that point.”

Violent psychotic swamp people. Yep, that’s where Kaldar came from. It explains volumes.

“And Kaldar, that scheme with the preacher, that’s just priceless. The man is brilliant. He knows it, which makes him insufferable, but he’s still brilliant. I would’ve never thought of that.”

The subject of Kaldar had to be avoided at all costs. Audrey leaned forward. “What are you and William doing here?”

“Did you see the boy with glasses?”

“The one who follows you around like a puppy?”

“Yes.” Cerise sighed. “Francis. He makes these paintings. Elaborate, ornate paintings. They make you dizzy if you look at them too long. And if you look at them under a certain magic illumination, you will see interesting things, like the complete blueprints of strategic buildings. The Ducal Palace, for example. The Castle Ordono, which is an Adrianglian stronghold on the northern Louisianan border. He has a photographic memory, and once he looks at something, he remembers it. He thinks the blueprint gimmick will make his paintings special.”

They were special, all right. “How did he get access to all those blueprints?”

“When his talents were discovered, the Adrianglian military idiots in their infinite wisdom thought he’d make a good spy, so they started shoving complex blueprints at him and training him to reproduce them. He is doing exactly what they trained him to do, except, you see, he doesn’t want to be an engineer or a spy; he wants to be an artist. So he ran away. We tracked him down to Morell, who will be auctioning one of his paintings. Francis thinks people are buying his blueprint paintings because they are art. He doesn’t realize they are buying his blueprints to use them for their own purposes. William and I have to extract him and take him back.”

“What will happen to him?”

“They will confine him. They won’t kill him, but they will put him in a controlled environment, probably in Lona-ret. It’s a military building, very beautiful, like a resort. Except with tall walls, magically capable guards, and handlers who make sure the guests don’t leave. He is not ill or mentally deficient. Francis knows he is committing treason. He was warned before, and he is aware that someone may use his art for nefarious purposes; but he’s so arrogant that he scoffs at that idea. He’s convinced that his work’s artistic value trumps all those silly little national-security rules. He just doesn’t care. He’s lucky he’s talented, or they would jail his scrawny ass in some dungeon and forget he was ever born.” Cerise leaned forward. “The Mirror’s agents aren’t permitted to discuss the nature of their missions with each other. The Mirror provided us with an invitation, and we arrived here. William is a Louisianan smuggler and a jealous thug. I’m minor nobility and a delicate flower in need of rescuing. Francis is a romantic. He filled in the blanks very quickly. We had no idea Kaldar would wind up here. We must coordinate things now.”

No kidding.

“You are still thinking of marrying him, right?”

What is it with the two of them and marriage? “Cerise, he is joking. Besides, I wouldn’t marry him if he paid me.”

“Why not?”

“Because Kaldar isn’t the marrying kind. He’s the have-fun-with kind.”

Cerise frowned. “You have to admit, he is a great agent.”

“Yes. He’s clever and capable, and he gets the job done.”

Cerise glanced at her. “And he is quick on his feet.”

“Yes.”

“And handsome.”

“Well, of course he’s handsome. He’s a great thief. He also did that sword thing your family does and killed one of the Hand’s swordswomen, I guess you’d call them. None of it makes him a good candidate for marriage. He has wandering eyes and wandering hands.” And he lies. Constantly and with great skill.

“He was always very good with the blade. He’s a good provider,” Cerise said.

Funny how she completely ignored that wandering eyes bit. Audrey hid a smile.

“Family is really big with our clan. In the swamp, you can’t count on anyone but family. Kaldar was our matchmaker. He arranged most of the unions for the family.”

Well, that explained volumes. She’d asked him about his friends’ being married. Of course he knew his friends were married. He had probably married his relatives to them. And she had rubbed his nose in the fact that he hadn’t tied the knot himself. That explained his sudden urge to marry.

“So you wouldn’t have to worry,” Cerise continued. “Kaldar knows all about what’s required to start a solid household.”

She was actually talking Kaldar up to her. Audrey almost laughed. Cerise loved her cousin. But her matchmaking was as subtle as a bulldozer. “I wish you would stop trying to hook me up with your cousin.”

“I’m not very good at it, am I?” Cerise grimaced. “Kaldar is a son of a bitch. He steals, he brews wild schemes, and he drives my husband crazy, on purpose, because it amuses him. But Kaldar is also kind and brave and loyal. It’s hard to get close to him, but those who do gain a friend for life. I love him like a brother. He always watched out for me. And you should know that when we passed him and Morell, he looked at you as if you walked on water.”

Audrey drew back.

A shadow came over Cerise’s face. She looked away, at the window and the clouds in the distant sky. “My family has suffered enough. Kaldar has suffered enough. I just want him to be happy. Give him a chance. If it doesn’t work out, you can always find me and punch me in the face afterward.”

 

THE dinner was served in the grand dining room. Kaldar decided that he didn’t much care for castles, especially that one. The dining room, with its vast walls, ornate arches decorated by an elaborate red-and-gold border, and carved white columns, was beautiful. Majestic even. But it felt cold and impersonal. He always preferred the happy chaos of the Mar kitchen, where space was in short supply, and everyone talked while they ate.

He was seated near the end of the table, with George to his left and Jack straight across from him. A lanky young man with glasses occupied the seat on his right. According to George, the man’s name was Francis, he was a traitor to Adrianglia, and at the first opportunity, William and Cerise would grab him and drag him back to the loving embrace of the realm.