Seeing is Believing (27 page)

"Anyone can dance," Anton smiled, and Sabrel didn't pull away as Anton wrapped his hands around the sword. The pain—pain Sabrel hadn't been aware of until that moment—faded away, and more silk slid smoothly across his wrists, lightly binding his hands to Anton's.

"Dance with me," Anton entreated. His eyes had brightened, and so had the floor. Sabrel let Anton lead him across the ballroomand out through a door that appeared only as they walked through it.

"Wait, just a little longer," Anton whispered, behind him now for a last moment—then he was gone. The silk twined through Sabrel's fingers, and he gasped softly as sharp pain, sharper than a thousand swords wrapped about his body as they'd been about his wrists, cut through his chest and pierced his heart—

*~*~*

Sabrel nearly tumbled out of bed, his heart racing and his lungs aching with the need to breathe. Anton's smile lingered fresh in his mind, and Sabrel took a slow, careful breath no matter how much he wanted to gulp for air. Settling back under his blankets, Sabrel closed his eyes and tried not to think about more than breathing quietly for a few moments.

The visions were simple, but Sabrel almost hated to dream. Dreams were confusing, sometimes important and meaningful, but just as often some meaningless concoction of his subconscious.

Had Anton really made that much of an impression on him? Sabrel hadn't thought so—surely he wasn't that desperate for contact. Anton … Sabrel's fingers clenched in his sheets. It was a meaningless dream. Anton wasn't important, and Sabrel slowly turned towards the wall. His father's breathing across the room didn't change pattern, and Sabrel let himself relax enough to fall back asleep.

*~*~*

"If we get killed today, I'm going to blame you," Theo informed him as he alighted from the carriage, wincing. "Though I may welcome it if I have to face another of these carriage rides."

"Get over it," Anton muttered distractedly, glancing around the front yard. It wasn't a small house, but it wasn't big enough to become a target or garner any interest. Shipping interests explained Wilheim's livelihood without earning too many questions.

"Hmm," Theo murmured, leading the way down the walk to the front door. Anton glanced up at the library windows, unsurprised but a little disappointed when they proved to be empty. At least it wasn't raining today.

Theo knocked smartly, relaxing into his role somehow. Anton took a deep breath as the door opened, the elderly housekeeper nodding cordially and shuffling back to let them in.

"Master Wilheim will be seeing you in the gardens," she announced slowly, shutting the door behind them and collecting their jackets and Theo's hat. "Straight back and there's a door out of the kitchen," she directed, bustling out of sight.

Theo caught his eye, but didn't say anything as he led the way. It would be too suspicious for Anton to 'get lost' again, so he simply followed Theo out and hoped they were meeting outside because of the lovely weather and not to keep the blood from staining things inside.

Anton wondered for a moment if Sabrel would be there if they were to be killed before dismissing it as an 'I don't want to know' type question.

"Here goes nothing," Theo muttered, pushing open the back door. Anton glanced around curiously as they exited, taking swift count, but only Wilheim and his assistant Hilsner were in line of sight. Unfortunately, there were several conveniently placed rose bushes that could conceal a murderous lackey.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," Wilheim greeted, looking faintly smug. "Have a seat, why don't you?"

"Of course," Theo accepted, moving to sit across the table from Wilheim. Anton moved to sit next to him, across from Hilsner. There was another chair, empty, and Anton wondered if five was a set or if there was to be another person joining them.

"I have the money you asked for," Theo stated immediately, unhooking the heavy pouch he'd attached to his waist and throwing it onto the table to land between Wilheim's tea cup and the centerpiece of flowers.

"Now, now, don't be crass," Wilheim scolded, looking inordinately pleased with himself. "Have some tea before business."

Theo tensed in outrage, and he really did a lot better in the lead role than Anton would have.

"You have your money, what more do you want?" Theo spat, and Wilheim simply smirked.

"Have some tea," Wilheim suggested, and Anton placed a restraining hand on Theo's arm before he worked himself up to lunging across the table at Wilheim.

"Fine," Theo snapped, and Wilheim gestured to Hilsner, who jumped up and poured them both cups of tea—and then a fifth cup, which he pushed to the spot in front of the empty chair that stood between him and Anton.

Anton looked up curiously, in time to see Sabrel wandering across the garden towards them. He wasn't looking straight at them, but over their heads. He was dressed as neatly as he had been last week, in dark, solemn colors that matched his hair.

"Sabrel, come sit," Wilheim directed, his voice cool. Sabrel moved accordingly, taking the chair left empty between Anton and Hilsner. "Sabrel, these are my business associates, Theodore Epson and Anton Homes. Gentlemen, this is my son, Sabrel."

"A pleasure to meet you," Sabrel murmured, giving them each a quiet smile. Anton smiled back, knowing he was going to get hell from Theo later because Sabrel was pretty and Theo loved to tease. Theo nodded tersely, and Anton sipped at his tea to keep from smiling too much. Sabrel wrapped long, slender fingers around his teacup, his gaze moving to stare at his father impassively.

"How are you enjoying the garden, Sabrel?" Wilheim asked idly, ignoring the small, strangled noise that Theo made.

"The wildflowers are in bloom," Sabrel stated with perfect aplomb, taking a sip of his tea calmly as Wilheim's lips pressed together and his cheeks reddened. Anton wondered what that meant—the wildflowers, and Sabrel's comment. Nothing Theo had said had gained that sort of negative reaction.

"Really," Wilheim said, his voice strained from the effort of trying to remain casual. "Why don't you take Mr. Homes to see them while Mr. Epson and I conclude our business?"

"Of course," Sabrel murmured, standing up. Anton hesitated, but Theo nodded tensely, giving him permission and the chance to try to sway Sabrel without giving themselves away.

Sabrel waited until he was standing to start walking, back the way he came. They skirted around a rosebush, under tall tree blooming all over with tiny white flowers, and along the wall until Sabrel stopped under another tall tree, this one blooming with pink flowers. The wildflowers were indeed in bloom, scattered along the ground in front of the wall and under the tree.

"Hello," Anton started, earning small smile as Sabrel knelt down and picked a flower.

"Hello," Sabrel replied. "You should stop coming here."

"I can't," Anton denied immediately, wondering if Sabrel had seen anything.

"Of course not," Sabrel murmured, quietly enough that Anton wasn't sure he'd heard it right. He didn't say anything more, simply twirled the flower between his fingers. It had a pleasant scent, and Anton wondered if they had any of these flowers at home, in the gardens there.

"What's with the flowers?" Anton asked, and Sabrel glanced at him, startled.

"What do you mean?" Sabrel asked, and his voice didn't have that quiet, almost dreamy quality to it anymore.

"You mentioned these flowers and your father got upset," Anton frowned. He hadn't been seeing things—Wilheim had definitely not been happy.

"Oh," Sabrel smiled a little. "He doesn't like it when I mention things that remind him of my mother."

Anton frowned, tucking his hands into his pockets. "She's dead?"

Sabrel gave him a look that plainly said 'you are an idiot.'

"I know, you're a Seer," Anton shrugged dismissively. "I've known Seers whose mothers survived."

"Don't tell my father that," Sabrel sighed, letting the wildflower fall. "She died twice."

"Twice?" Anton repeated, mystified. "How do you die twice?"

"She was revived the first time," Sabrel shrugged. "She had a weak heart, and six months into her pregnancy she died. Then she died again, when she was giving birth to me, and stayed dead."

"Oh," Anton hesitated, unsure of what to do. Sabrel didn't look miserable over it, at least.

"So I'm a Seer because she died before I was born," Sabrel smiled a little, shaking his head. "I shouldn't be telling you this."

"Why not?" Anton asked, following Sabrel as he retreated towards the base of the tree.

"Because the story my father tells is that my mother died of illness, shortly after I was born. And that I was born slow, so he keeps me safe and happy locked away," Sabrel leaned against the tree trunk, glancing up when a bird squawked unhappily. Anton glanced up as well, catching a glimpse of blue.

"Well, that's the story I'll stick to, then," Anton shrugged, and Sabrel smiled a little.

"Good," Sabrel told him, his pretty green-grey eyes watching him steadily. "You're not here for Theo."

Anton froze, then tried to appear casual. Coughing a little, he shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're not here for Theo," Sabrel repeated, crossing his arms. "I don't know what you're here for, but it's not for Theo."

"I'm here with Theo," Anton insisted, and Sabrel smiled slowly.

"That's the story I'll stick to, for now," Sabrel told him, looking confused for a moment. "You should tell me."

"I can't," Anton denied, then realized that he'd admitted it there. "I—" Anton started, then cut himself off before he could do anymore damage. It was too premature to be asking something as volatile as whether Sabrel was willing to turn on his father. Even if it didn't seem like there was much love lost right now. It could just be a spat.

"What do you do, when you're not accompanying half-noble friends who are being blackmailed?" Sabrel asked curiously, shaking a few of his dark curls out of his face.

"That's my life, I'm afraid," Anton sighed, smiling a little. "I spend all my time accompanying my not-quite-noble friends to their various blackmailers—"

Sabrel laughed quietly for a moment before looking quite startled and stopping. Anton smiled, pleased.

"Really? I own a couple of inns," Anton shrugged. "Not as glamorous, I know, but it lets me buy some nice clothes."

"Inns," Sabrel repeated slowly. "What do you do for that?"

"I hire good people to oversee each inn," Anton answered easily, wondering if Sabrel was trying to figure his real purpose out this way. "I visit each one once a week or so and deal with all the government rules and regulations."

"Do you have family?" Sabrel asked, almost wistful, and Anton frowned, because this couldn't be as simple as Sabrel being curious.

"Two brothers and my parents. A few aunts and uncles, far too many cousins, and my grandmother," Anton listed off. "But they all live in the capital, so I don't see them often."

"Why did you come out here?" Sabrel asked, leaning his head back against the tree trunk behind him. "Why not stay with them?"

"Not enough work for us all there," Anton shrugged, smiling a bit. "What's with all the questions?"

"My father wants me to find out something about you. He doesn't trust your intentions here," Sabrel replied slowly and Anton decided he was glad he'd stuck with the cover story and hadn't blown it by letting Sabrel know why he was really here.

"Lovely," Anton muttered, combing his hand through his hair restlessly. He and Theo kept hitting setbacks like this—first Anton had gotten caught, then there was Sabrel with his Seeing, and now Wilheim was wary of Anton. Possibly Theo. At this rate they'd be dead and floating in the middle of the river before long.

"I was curious, too," Sabrel spoke up again, studying Anton with unreadable green eyes. "Is it the truth?"

"Some of it," Anton admitted. "It's the story I'm telling."

"It will be the story I tell," Sabrel said slowly, frowning a little at him. "We should go back now," he announced abruptly, and Anton hesitated, a little confused because it seemed like Sabrel was being on their side. Except he could just be playing it like that—and if he was, did it really matter? Sabrel could See their motivations at any moment and then it would be over. Anton frowned, following Sabrel back across the garden. He wished he was better at reading Sabrel, because then he'd have more of a clue as to what Sabrel was thinking.

Theo was scowling at the tabletop when they entered the little clearing. Wilheim and Hilsner were nowhere in sight, and Theo didn't have his pouch of money anymore. So Wilheim had upped the stakes, it seemed, and Theo stood up abruptly as they approached.

"Let's go," Theo snapped, not sparing Sabrel a second glance. Anton nodded, giving Sabrel a nod. Sabrel just stared back at him blankly, not following as he and Theo made their way into the house.

*~*~*

Wilheim stalked across the garden to where Sabrel stood, not hesitating as he swung. Sabrel flinched, but didn't duck away, letting Wilheim's fist connect with his left cheek. He stumbled back a few steps before straightening, almost smiling because the wildflowers always got Wilheim in a snit.