Fate's Edge

Chapter Fourteen

THE refreshments consisted of tiny pieces of things on toast. As they walked to their seats, Audrey stole one from the nearest platter and nibbled on it. Some sort of fish? She and Cerise sat on the chairs. William positioned himself behind them like some grim sentry.
The square room spread before them. Elaborate carvings decorated the walls, cut out of soft, pale stone and sealed with some sort of finish that made them shine. A large silk rug sheathed the floor of brown tile. Three enormous chandeliers dripped crystals in complex cascades, but instead of bulbs, the crystals themselves glowed with gentle radiance. Chairs set against the walls, in groupings of three or four together. A mahogany table in the middle, carved with the Weird's swirls and flourishes, supported a multitude of trays. Servants in pastel turquoise uniforms circulated through the room, carrying additional platters. Armed men stood by the doorways: the giant veekings, all over seven feet in height, all muscled like bulls, all watching the crowd like wolves looking for an injured sheep. Not one cracked a smile. It was as if Morell had kidnapped the University of Nebraska's defensive line, put them through Marine Corps boot camp, and given them huge knives to hack people to bits with. To make matters worse, the Texas sharpshooters with their musketeer hats occupied a balcony above. One stray movement, and she'd be down with a bullet in her brain. On the plus side, she would probably never feel death coming.
Cerise leaned toward her. "How are you feeling?"
"Better, thank you."
Morell de Braose drifted over to them. He held himself straight, not arrogant, perhaps even friendly, but firm, like a magnanimous king of all he surveyed. The eyes didn't lie, though. In unguarded moments, his irises were cold. He would kill in an instant with no remorse.
"How is your traveling companion?" Morell asked.
"I'm afraid she's putting on a brave front for my sake." Cerise reached over and affectionately squeezed her hand. William gave de Braose an ugly stare. Morell smiled. "Let me know if there is anything I can do to ease your stay. My staff are at your disposal."
"You are too kind." Cerise smiled at him.
A servant appeared in the doorway, carrying an ornate box, and made a beeline for Morell.
Morell moved on. His stride tightened. He was walking somewhere with a purpose.
Both she and Cerise watched him.
Morell stopped before George, who nursed a cup of weak wine. "My lord."
"Baron."
They both bowed.
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.
The dinner consisted of five small courses. Francis wasn't eating much of it. He picked at his food, rolling the tiny tomatoes with his fork, and cast sad glances at Cerise, seated across the table four people down to their left.
Cerise looked lovely. Her gown was dyed in a distinctive sunset pattern, popular in the Weird last year: almost plum red at the off-the-shoulder sleeves and pleated, turned-down collar that left most of her cleavage exposed, the fabric flared into red as it clasped her breasts, brightened to near orange at the waist, then spilled in a glorious cascade of pleated blush, a shade too provocative to be called pink. It was a good choice. The gown was slightly out of season. It took time for the dress styles to filter from the North to the South. A saltlicker's wife wouldn't have access to the latest fashions. Red signaled sensuality, and Francis was eating it up.
Next to Cerise, Audrey turned toward him. For a moment, Kaldar forgot where he was.
Francis sighed next to him. The sound snapped Kaldar out of his reverie.
"A beautiful lady," Kaldar said confidentially.
"She is." Francis sent a look of sad longing in Cerise's direction.
"I believe she is married," Kaldar said.
"To a brute." Francis glanced at William, seated across from Cerise. "A saltlicker smuggler, which is just another name for a pirate. He made his money robbing other ships, stole a fortune, and married her. Her family is noble but poor. He practically bought her. Can you imagine?"
George cleared his throat carefully. "You don't say."
"Trust me, the man is a savage. He treats her like a slave."
"Perhaps you should be more careful with the display of your affections," Kaldar suggested. "Saltlickers are known for their temper."
"He can't do anything to me." Francis pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I'm the baron's guest. She's chained to that monster. A woman so refined, so delicate, should be shielded from the rigors of the world, so they don't bruise her. She is completely helpless, you see . . ."
Jack choked on his food and made some coughing noises that sounded suspiciously like feline laughter.
"Did I say something funny?" Francis peered at him.
"Not at all," Kaldar said. "Please continue."
"She should be free to make her own choices."
"And are you determined to liberate her?" Kaldar asked.
"Indeed I am."
"You have a noble heart," George said.
Francis preened. "Any man of honor in my place would do the same."
The naive idiot. Cerise was playing a dangerous game. Francis could do something rash, then William would kill him. "Perhaps you would listen to the advice of an older and jaded man?"
"Of course."
"In my experience, despite what outer appearances may indicate, married couples are much more alike than people realize. Take care, my friend. Tread softly."
"I thank you for your counsel." Francis raised his chin. "But I have nothing to fear."
Young moron.
The last of the dessert had been finished. The double doors opened, revealing a wide ballroom. Morell was doing this party by the book: they were permitted to mingle, treated to a dinner, and now, predictably, they would be given the opportunity to dance under the watchful eyes of the Texas sharpshooter's magically augmented rifles.
Kaldar rose. "My young lords, it is time to dance."
Jack rolled his eyes. "Do I have to?"
"I'm afraid so, master."
Jack sighed and made his way to the ballroom. George followed him.
"Youth is wasted on the young . . ." Kaldar mused, but Francis's gaze was fixed on Cerise.
"Excuse me," he muttered, and trotted over to her.
And so he was left to his own devices. Kaldar started toward the ballroom.
He positioned himself near the wall and watched the gathering. Music rolled through the disguised loudspeakers on the walls. The rhythm was brisk and familiar. The dancers were making a hash of it on the floor: some tried to dance according to the Weird's customs; others were attempting a Broken waltz. George was whisked away almost instantly by a young girl with too much mascara and a prom gown that put her square into Broken territory rather than that of the Weird. As soon as the dance ended, another candidate, this one at least three years older, stepped up to claim his attention.
Morell wanted a court. He wanted a taste of the upper-crust life - blueblood or those who reached their status by merit, he didn't particularly care. He had a beautiful castle, but the means by which he'd obtained it would get him barred from most polite gatherings across realms. So he made his own court. He invited his neighbors, robbers, added a few attractive young people with ambitions and an eye toward climbing the social ladder, and lured the lords and ladies of the Weird and movers and shakers of the Broken with promises of fine art that couldn't be bought anywhere else. Now they sized each other up, and Morell watched the culture clash with great amusement.
There was an odd mix of extravagance and ironic self-awareness in the entire affair. For a man who liked to watch other people, the ballroom was paradise. Kaldar couldn't recall the last time he was so entertained.
Morell watched his guests as well, moving from one group to the next until he finally reached him. Kaldar bowed. The baron inclined his head. A moment later, George was released by his latest dance partner and approached them.
"You don't dance, Master Brossard?" Morell asked.
"I'm afraid it's not one of my better skills."
"Nonsense," George said. "You're an excellent dancer, Olivier."
What the hell is the kid up to? "Most of the gathering is above my station," Kaldar said.
"What about that lady in green?" George made a barely perceptible nod toward Audrey. "Didn't we escort her on our way in? She was looking for her mistress . . ."
"She was barely on her feet. I doubt she is capable of dancing."
"Oh, come on, Brossard." Morell grinned at him. "You should dance. In fact, I insist that you enjoy yourself. And the lady in green seems like a perfect candidate. She is a companion to a lady from the South. They are born to dance. I know for a fact that dance classes are a mandatory part of their education."
Kaldar sighed. It kept him from grinding his teeth. Morell wasn't testing him. He was testing Audrey. "Very well."
He circled the floor, stopped before Audrey, and bowed. "A dance, my lady?"
She would never accept. His brain feverishly tried to find some sort of explanation to deflect Morell's suspicions.
A hand touched his. He glanced up and saw Audrey smiling. "Master Brossard, is it? I would be delighted."
He straightened and led her to the floor. "You were supposed to shoot me down."
"You think I can't dance?"
He stepped into position, waiting for the music to start. "We have to dance a Weird dance with Morell watching, because dancing is supposed to be part of your education."
"Lucky for you, it was. I took lessons from an Edger who taught me Weird dances. I can tango, too."
"Lucky for me?"
"You put me into this mess. I would've been perfectly happy just sneaking into the castle."
"And being shot. Try to keep up."
"I told you, I took lessons. As long as you don't start doing the cajun stomp, we'll be fine."
"Cajun stomp?"
"You heard me, swamper. And keep your hands to yourself."
He would have to have a talk with Cerise about how much she was telling Audrey about the Mire and him.
The music shot from the speakers, a solo by a melodious male voice followed by an aggressive rhythm and a fast melody, spiced with splashes of exotic sound. Morell, you bastard. It was a hell of a dance.
Kaldar shifted his position, pulling her to him, her back to his chest, his hands on her arms. Other dancers had started, and he was giving her a moment to watch them. "This is the aliya. We go fast, then we go slow, circling each other. Watch the other couples and follow my lead, and we'll be fine. Ready?"
"Bring it."
He launched them across the floor. She followed him, obeying the cues of his body, light on her feet and graceful. They parted, they came together, aggressive, passionate, and he realized that she knew the dance and was brilliant at it.
They flew across the floor again, fast, then stopped for another pass.
He paused as she circled him, one hand up, the other bent.
"Marry me," he said.
"No."
He spun her, pulling her to him, and they circled each other again. "I'll buy you a house."
"Not interested."
The music sped up, and they glided across the floor. "I love you."
"No, you don't."
"Yes, I do. Dip coming in three, two . . ."
She leaned back, parallel to the floor. He barely had to hold her. Kaldar ran his hand two inches above her body and lifted her into position. The temptation to touch her almost made him lose all sense. "I'll be a good husband."
"Lies."
"I'll be monogamous."
"Ha! Maybe I won't."
"Being with anyone else would be slumming."
"For you or me?"
"Both."
She gripped his shoulder, mimicking the other couples. He pulled her closer by her waist. In his head, they were naked.
"I made fun of you. You decided that you should marry to keep up with your family."
He spun her about, and they were off again.
"If you have to marry, I'm cute and I have nice boobs, so I would do."
"Audrey," he growled.
"No thanks."
The final notes tore out. Kaldar dropped to his knees before her. "You, me, and cute kids down the road."
She smiled and said, her lips still stretched in a smile, "Forget it."
He had to get her alone. He was so aroused, he could barely stand it. If he could only talk to her, he would convince her to say yes.
"Meet me in the north hallway in ten."
"Maybe I will, and maybe I won't."
He got up and bowed. She curtsied.
Around them, people applauded.
"Thank you, Master Brossard." Audrey gave him a charming smile.
"The pleasure is mine."
She turned and went toward Cerise, fanning herself.
Morell, George, and Jack were staring at him.
"You lied," Morell announced when he returned to his spot. "You are an excellent dancer, indeed."
"The lady is divine. Sadly, she's still feeling under the weather."
Across the room, Audrey was gently pressing a handkerchief to her face and pretending to be winded.
"I think she likes you. Don't let her get away." Morell moved on. Audrey passed by. Now they were both in the clear.
Nine minutes later, he slipped away, passing the guards, into the north hallway. Nobody paid him any mind. He'd watched people come and go all day. As long as he didn't leave the northern wing of the castle, he wouldn't get shot.
Kaldar sank into one of the shadowy alcoves. Where is she?
A minute passed. Another. Time slowed, barely moving like chilled honey.
Is she not coming? Will I have to go after her?
A familiar, curvy figure slipped into the hallway. He peeled himself from the wall, grasped her hand, and pulled her to him, pinning her between the wall and himself. They stared at each other for a pressurized electric second, the air between them saturated with desire. He'd wanted her for so long, it seemed like eternity.
She was smiling at him, that delicious, hot, irresistible Audrey smile. She wanted him, too.
All thoughts of talking fled from Kaldar's head. He kissed her smile, tasting her lips, so sweet and pliant. He kissed her because he had to. He couldn't help it. She tasted of wine and apples and that enchanting indescribable feminine spice that drove all reason from his head.
Her mouth parted, inviting him, and the tip of her tongue licked his. The taste of Audrey exploded in his mouth. Finally.
Kaldar pulled her toward him, his hands sliding over the firm, supple curve of her ass, and drank her in. Audrey gasped into his mouth. He pressed against her and let his tongue explore, teasing, taking, daring her to do something about it. Her left arm slid around his neck, accepting his challenge. Her right hand slipped down, along his chest, lower, to the bulge in his pants, caressing him, her skin soft and warm. Her fingers brushed against him. His body tightened in response, straining, begging for her touch. He couldn't get any harder. She ran her hand over his shaft and stroked him, propelling him right to the edge, to the desperate place where nothing but Audrey mattered. He wanted her more than anything in his life.
They needed privacy. The dark rectangle of a door loomed on the right. She kissed him again, and he blindly found the door handle. Locked. Magic stung his hand, and suddenly the handle turned. He opened the door, and they slipped inside, intertwined. He locked the door one-handed, afraid to let go of her, and hoisted her onto the desk.
FEW people recognized the moment they fell in love. Audrey had no idea when it happened. She knew only that touching Kaldar, being with him, feeling his lips on hers, was the most important thing. Somehow, between their fight and this second, she had fallen in love with him, and when he kissed her, it felt like pure heaven.
She kissed his face, his jaw, his lips, caressing him. All of the good solid reasons she should push him away and stop seemed so stupid and small compared to what she saw in his eyes. There wasn't even a word for it. Admiration? Affection? Desire? Bliss? Love. That had to be it.
Kaldar brushed the seam on her side, found the clasps, then her breasts were free. He bent his head down and kissed her neck, his hands caressing her body, his roughened thumbs sliding over her nipples, sending tiny shocks of bliss through her. Audrey arched her back. Every stroke of his hands, every touch, every heated press of his lips against her skin, felt overpowering, as if her senses had suddenly sharpened. The air grew hot. Pressure built inside her, squeezing her everywhere.
She reached for his vest and worked the clasp open. He shrugged it off and yanked off his shirt. As he pulled the fabric over his head, she unbuckled his belt and slipped her hand inside, pulling his shaft free. He groaned, his body tight, the muscles on his chest and stomach hard, strained bulges.
He was beautiful.
Audrey stroked him again, running her hand up and down his hard shaft, and he slipped his hand under her skirt, up her thigh. He pulled off her panties. His fingers dipped into her, right into the center of the aching pressure.
Oh God. She almost cried out, and he kissed her. "Shh, love. Shh."
He slid his fingers higher and touched the sensitive mound just above her ache. A thrilling jolt shot through her, so intense she jerked back, then immediately leaned into him, eager for more. He kissed her neck, sending small shivers down her spine. His fingers made small, slippery circles, sliding, hot, clever, touching just right. Pleasure spiked inside her, the pressure rolling, concentrating down, toward that spot and his hands, each touch bringing the rush of euphoria closer, as if it spiraled down. Her breath was coming in short, rapid gasps. The tension built and built. She felt as if she were flying, her brain flooded by bliss and Kaldar.
The pressure came together into a single tight knot. She couldn't stand it any longer. It peaked, and a wave of exquisite, intense pleasure swept through her, quick and followed by spasms.
He thrust into her, his shaft a hot hardness inside her. She locked her legs behind him. They moved in a steady rhythm. She kissed him, winding herself around his body, echoing every thrust, feeling every movement he made inside her. A steady ache began to build in her again, that same insistent, exhilarating pressure.
Someone tried the door handle. She clamped her hand on Kaldar's mouth. They froze. If they got busted, she would say . . . To hell with it. She didn't care.
On the other side of the door, a woman made an irritated "Hmm" noise. Kaldar pulled out of her - she'd almost gasped in frustration - and moved across the carpet to the door.
Another "Hmm."
The sound of retreating steps seeped through the door. Yes!
Audrey slid off the desk. Her gown had to go. She wanted to feel him, all of him, without too many annoying layers of fabric between the two of them. Audrey pulled the dress off and dropped it to the floor.
Kaldar crossed the distance between them. She turned her back to him. His hands closed about her, cupping her breasts.
"I want you," she whispered.
"Marry me," he told her.
"No." He just kept asking and asking. What if he kept asking for the rest of her life? What then? "Why does it have to be marriage?"
"Because I want to be with you forever, and that's the only way I can prove it. I want to stand there in front of everyone and promise to love you. It's a promise you can't break."
His hand slipped down on her thigh, pushing her legs wider. He thrust into her, sliding in, harder and harder, in a possessive rapid rhythm. She braced her hands against the desk. He wrapped one arm around her waist, clamping her to him, his fingers hot on her skin. His right hand slipped down, over her hip, over her stomach . . . She tensed in anticipation. His fingers found that same sensitive spot, stroking her back to the edge, where the bliss waited. She pushed against the desk.
The pressure inside her crested.
Kaldar released her waist and leaned back, thrusting fast, deep, hard.
Joy drowned her, radiating through her in waves. They came and came, flooding her, overloading her senses. She felt weightless, exhausted, and happy.
He shuddered behind her. A second later, he pulled her up and wrapped his arms around her. She sagged against him, so thoroughly tired and completely content. She didn't want to move. She didn't want to speak. She just wanted to stand there, wrapped in him.
He kissed her cheek.
She was so happy.
Footsteps sounded down the hallway. Probably one of the Texas sharpshooters - the boot had a heel by the sound of it.
They couldn't stay like that forever. Sooner rather than later, someone in the ballroom would notice they were gone. No matter how much she loved being held like that, they had to clean up, get dressed, and go on with their plan before their absence drew enough attention to put them all in danger. Audrey gently pushed at Kaldar's arms, and he let go.
A bottle of water stood on the desk. Audrey swiped it, wet a handkerchief, and wiped her breasts, her waist, and then her thighs. She smelled like Kaldar. She wished she could curl up just like that, with his scent on her, and fall asleep while he held her.
She tossed the handkerchief to Kaldar.
"I told you you would like it."
"You are so humble." She brushed a quick kiss on his lips and pulled on her gown.
"Wedding at the end of the month, then?"
She pulled the clasp out of her hair and shifted it back into a decent hairstyle. She wanted the wedding. She wanted him whichever way she could get him. "Maybe."
"Is that a yes?"
"I'll think about it." She was in love with Kaldar. She knew it. Their sex wasn't just sex - it was making love. The way he looked at her made her shiver. But something inside her kept her from saying yes. It wasn't pride. Fear, she realized. She was afraid that if she told him yes, he would lose interest.
He wanted to marry her. "For men like you, 'marriage' sounds a lot like 'sentenced to forced labor in the mines.'"
"I never wanted to marry anyone before," he said. "When two people marry, they surrender a small part of themselves. They become more like each other. I never met a woman who was better than me at things I take pride in, and I never wanted to be like them. I always knew that whoever I was with was temporary. There was always a new woman around the corner. I've seen marriages shatter. Twice. My mother left, then Richard's wife. It almost broke my brother."
"So how do I know that you won't move on and leave me broken?"
"Because you are the one. You are better than me in some things, and I am better than you in others." He drew her into his arms. "I don't mind being a bit like you. I hope you don't mind being a bit like me."
He said exactly what she would have said if he had asked her why she wanted him.
Another set of footsteps echoed through the hallway. Kaldar glanced at the door.
If someone burst through that door and killed him, her life would be over. The realization rocked her, and she looked away.
"Audrey." He turned her to him.
She couldn't keep stringing him along. It wasn't fair.
He was dead serious. His eyes searched her face. He was terrified that she would shoot him down. He hid it, but she knew his face so well by now. It was the face of a man she loved, and his eyes could no longer keep a secret from her.
"Different entrances," he said. "We can't go back into the ballroom together."
"Of course I will marry you, you fool," Audrey told him.
KALDAR slipped through the arched entrance into the ballroom. Morell seemed preoccupied with some older man. A few moments later, Audrey arrived. She didn't look ruffled or disheveled. She certainly didn't seem like she had just had scorching sex. As far as he could tell, their disappearance and return had gone unnoticed by anyone except for Cerise, who was observing him with a very concerned look.
Audrey had said yes. The elation filled him, and he had to maintain an iron grip on his face to keep from grinning.
The butler strode through the double doors and cleared his throat. "The Marquise of Amry and Tuanin, Peer of the Realm, Veteran of the Ten-Month War, Recipient of the Gaulish Shield, Bearer of the Triple Seal of the Golden Throne, Defender of the Gaulish Empire of Third Rank, Captain Helena d'Amry. And associates."
Shit.
A servant deposited the invitation into Morell's hand. The baron glanced at it. "I see Kaleb Green will not be joining our auction this time around."
The butler stepped aside, and Helena strode into the ballroom. She wore the midnight blue uniform of the Gaulish Empire. Her green eyes searched the crowd unerringly and found Kaldar.
Helena d'Amry smiled.
GEORGE closed his eyes. Kaldar paced back and forth. He'd been trying to raise Audrey via the transmitter, but she didn't respond. George and his birds were his only hope. He stopped and peered out of the open window. Their quarters were luxurious and tightly guarded. Their windows presented a beautiful panorama of the mountains, and below them was a thousand-foot drop straight to the distant woods below.
"I'm there." George opened his eyes.
"Is Audrey there?"
"Yes."
"Tell her to activate the barrette."
"She says she doesn't have it. It must've fallen out. During the dancing."
No, she'd had it during the dancing. It must've been during their other dancing. He recalled her raising her hair. He couldn't remember the barrette being there. Kaldar almost slapped himself. Such a simple thing, and they had both missed it.
"Tell her we have to take the diffusers tonight."
George whispered and turned to him. "She says you are crazy."
"Tell her the auction is tomorrow. If we bid, Helena will outbid us, and we never intended to bid in the first place anyway. We have to retrieve them tonight."
George whispered and paused.
"She says what do you think will happen when Morell discovers that they are gone? All the wyverns are grounded, and the giant men with very sharp swords will mince us into tiny pieces."
"Tell her I had a replacement made. We substitute the replacement for the real thing." He'd had the Mirror make the replicas before he had ever set out for California. They were real gold, just like the bracelets themselves.
"She says we did that once, and let her think, oh, it didn't go very well, did it?"
"Tell her we have no choice. Tomorrow it will be all over."
"You suck. Do you even know where the vault is?"
"Yes, I do. It's in the northern turret on top of the keep. I looked at it from the balcony. It's full of guards, it's warded, and if the castle were to fall, its contents could be quickly moved by landing a wyvern on the roof next to it."
George looked at him. "She is walking around the room mumbling to herself."
"Tell her to mumble faster; we're short on time."
"Ummm, I'm not going to do that," George said.
George frowned. "She says when?"
"Half an hour. And tell Cerise to give Audrey her claws. I know she packed some."
KALDAR stood by the window. The Mirror's night suit clung to his frame, turning him all but invisible in the darkness. He checked the pack on his back. Secure. The claws came next: thick solid bands of steel and leather, laced with veins of wires, they clasped his palms, extending up his arms to wrap around his shoulders. His shins sported the second pair. A small coin powered each claw. He pressed the coins one by one. They flashed silver, sending thin currents of magic through the wires.
"What are those?" Jack asked.
"Climbing claws."
Kaldar pressed his hand to the side of the window. Barbs shot out from the claws, biting into the stone. He hung on it with his full weight, testing. It held. He pulled his hand away, and the claw automatically retracted the blades.
"Make sure the door stays locked," he whispered.
The boys nodded.
"If someone knocks, don't open it. Let them break it down if they have to. If it comes to that, send a bird to William and Cerise for help. George, keep a bird on me at all times. If I die, go to William right away."
"Understood," George said.
Kaldar leaned out the window. Audrey was in Cerise's room, two windows to the right. Below him, the sheer drop yawned. No guts, no glory.
He climbed onto the windowsill and planted his right-hand claw on the wall. The blades clicked. He pressed his right shin against the stone. Claws pierced the wall. Climbing was never his favorite. In fact, heights weren't his favorite altogether. Swimming, that he could do.
Kaldar exhaled and stepped off the window.
The claws held.
He planted his left shin, then his left claw, and began crawling up the wall, slowly, like some sort of insect. His heart hammered against his ribs. He knew not to look down, but he didn't have to. In his mind, his claws failed. He slid down the wall, hopelessly scrambling to find purchase and failing. The wall ended, and he plummeted down, turning in the air as he fell, and smashed down on the sharp rocks below with a wet thud.
Sometimes, an overactive imagination was a curse.
A shadow crawled out of the window to the right and began making its way to him. Audrey.
Kaldar hung in place, waiting for her.
She drew even with him, her eyes thrilled, and whispered. "This is fun! The Mirror has all the best toys."
"You're scared to fly on a wyvern, but this is fun?"
"When I'm on the wyvern, it's out of my hands. I can't do anything about crashing. I can control this." She leaned closer. "Are you okay? You're looking green."
"Bet me something that we can make it up this wall."
She detached her right claw and fished a coin out of her pocket. "I bet you this coin we can't make it."
"You brought money on the heist?"
"It's small and easy to bet in case we get in trouble."
He really did love this woman. He swiped the coin and slid it under the collar of his suit next to his skin. The familiar surge of magic burst through him, snapped to Audrey, and returned to him. Kaldar began climbing.
"So how does this betting thing work, anyway?" Audrey asked, climbing next to him.
"It has to be physically possible. If it's something continuous like this or walking through a minefield, it works best if I hold the object I'm betting on. If it's a bet on other people, it works about a third of the time, and I don't have to hold anything."
Her eyes gained a sly glint. "So did you bet I would marry you?"
"No."
"Why not?"
Because it wouldn't have been real. "Didn't need it."
"You are an arrogant ass."
He grinned. "You love it."
Above them, the keep tower loomed. Shaped like a huge rectangle, the top of the tower had no roof. A textured parapet - a low stone wall interrupted by rectangular slits through which castle defenders would fire arrows at the attackers - encircled the tower's top, protruding about a foot out over the main tower wall, like the rail of a balcony. Once they crawled over it, they would be out in the open, plainly visible to anyone who was at the top of the tower.
"Are there guards up there?" Audrey whispered.
"Yes."
"Do you have a plan?"
"I always have a plan," he told her.
"Would you mind letting me in on it?"
"We create a diversion, you open all the doors, we swap the replica for the real bracelets, escape unharmed, and have hot sex."
"Good plan."
They reached the parapet protruding at the top of the tower. Below them, the keep wall plunged way down, to the cliff and certain death.
George's bird landed on Kaldar's shoulder, opened its beak, closed it, opened it again. One, two, three, four, five.
Kaldar held up his hand to Audrey. Five guards.
Audrey nodded.
He mouthed, "Wait here."
She nodded again.
Kaldar crawled sideways, moving crab-like along the wall, just under the archer slits of the parapet. If anyone looked over the wall and down, his goose would be cooked. You wanted this excitement, he reminded himself. You wanted to fight the Hand. You volunteered, and you're living your dream.
He kept moving along the wall until he was almost sixty yards away from Audrey. He barely saw her, a dark spot clinging to the wall to his left. Far enough.
Kaldar sank his right claw into the parapet and pulled himself up. For a torturous moment his legs hung above the sheer drop without any purchase, then his claws caught the wall again. Kaldar carefully raised himself high enough to glance through the closest archer gap.
The top of the tower was flat. In the center of the flat roof squatted a wide, rectangular, stone structure, its entrance guarded by a massive door. Hello, Morell's vault. Two veeking warriors stood guard by the door. To the left, a Texas sharpshooter slumped against the wall, half-asleep, his feathered hat edged over his eyes, a grass stalk in his teeth. To the right, at the end of the roof, another veeking and a sharpshooter played cards.
Kaldar pulled the cord of his backpack and slipped his hand inside. His fingers brushed a metal carapace. He pulled it out. The spy spider, one of the Mirror's better-known gadgets. Slightly larger than a dinner plate, the spider rested inert, its eight segmented legs securely clutched to its metal thorax. He slid the panel on its back open and turned the timer dial to five minutes and set the mode to rapid surveillance. The spider's gears whirred softly. Kaldar slid the panel closed and positioned the spider on the edge of the parapet. The second spider followed, but this time he set the delay to an hour and fastened the spider to the wall, just below the parapet. It would be invisible from above.
Kaldar crawled left, moving until he was hanging above Audrey, and motioned up. She climbed next to him. They waited at the edge of the parapet, peeking through the archer gaps.
Kaldar raised a small spyglass to his left eye.
The first spider stirred. Long, segmented legs shivered. It crawled over the parapet, slowly, one metal leg after the other.
One moment, the sharpshooter was asleep, the next a gun barked in his hand. The bullet hit the spider's carapace in a flash of pale green - the spider's flash shield. The spy unit snapped into evade mode and dashed across the balcony, zigzagging wildly. The sharpshooter fired again, swore, and chased after the spider. A moment later, the two veekings took off after him.
Kaldar heaved himself over the parapet, pulled Audrey up, and they dashed to the door and pressed against it. Green magic slid from Audrey's hands and sank into the door. She bit her lip.
Excited shouts came from the other end of the balcony.
"Hurry, love," he whispered.
"The lock's heavy," she ground out. Sweat broke on her forehead.
The sounds of footsteps and muffled conversation carried to them. The veekings were returning. The door clicked open. Audrey slipped inside. Kaldar ran in after her, shut the door - three locks; no wonder it took her a second - and locked it from the inside. They pressed against the door, barely breathing.
Nothing.
No heavy breathing, no testing of the locks, nothing. They were in.
In front of them, a short hallway led to a large vault door. Kaldar tapped the bird and pointed toward the vault. The bird took off to scout the way, then returned to perch on his arm.
It didn't seem alarmed. If he worked with George again, they would have to establish some sort of signal system. Wings open - the way is clear. Wings closed - run for your life. Or something like that.
They started down the corridor. The vault lay at the very end, a huge round door, thick and heavy. Audrey knelt by it. "Five locks. This is the most I've ever seen. This will take time."
He sat by her. "Anything I can do to help?"
"No. The more I can do by hand, the easier it is. Lifting a two-inch tumbler by magic is like trying to carry a hundred-pound rock." Audrey extracted a leather bundle from her pack and opened it. Thin metal lock-picking tools lay inside. The tools and the bundle looked suspiciously familiar.
Kaldar peered at the tools. "Where did you get this?"
"In your bags. You've been holding out."
Heh.
"They are mine now." She stuck the tip of her tongue out at him. "Stealers, keepers."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out her hair band with a pale metal flower on it.
"Kaldar! I've been looking for it everywhere."
She reached for it, and he yanked it back. "Stealers, keepers."
Audrey shook her head and probed the first lock with a narrow picklock. "There is a lock-picking competition in St. Louis. No electronics, no magnifying glasses, nothing but your fingers. I always wanted to enter. My dad never let me." She slid the second picklock into the lock next to the first.
"You'd kill it," he told her.
She grinned.
"So why not enter after you left the family?"
"I don't know. I guess subconsciously I always knew I'd go back to the life of crime. I didn't need that kind of visibility." Audrey frowned. "Now that's interesting. De Braose is left-handed, isn't he?"
"Yes."
She held her hand to the keyhole. A thin tendril of magic slipped from it, licked the inside of the keyhole, and vanished. "Hey, baby, can you move a bit?"
He rose and backed away.
"More. More. Keep going. Okay, that's probably good." Audrey stepped close to the door, standing on the right of the lock. Her long elegant fingers clasped the picklocks and twisted.
Razor-thin blades shot out of the floor and the wall, slicing the space where he'd stood a moment ago. On the left, a wide circular blade severed the air less than six inches from Audrey before vanishing into the wall. If she had stood on the left of the keyhole, as a right-handed person would, he would be cradling the bloody pieces of her body.
"Morell is a fun guy," Audrey said. "One down, four to go.
TWENTY minutes later, the fourth lock was down. Audrey stretched on the floor. The cold stones felt good under her back. The previous lock resisted the pick. She had to use her magic, and the five minutes of straining and gritting her teeth against the pain it took to open it had sapped her dry. The pain receded now, slowly. It was so nice not to hurt anymore.
"Are you okay?" Kaldar asked.
"Mhhm. I just need a small break. Do we have time?"
"Thirty minutes."
Audrey sighed.
"I can take the last one," Kaldar said.
"No, let me do it. Equal division of labor: you pickpocket, I open locks." She closed her eyes. "What will happen once we get out of here? Out of the castle, I mean?"
"Well, we'll take the boys back. Hopefully, Declan will be understanding. Then I will take you to meet my family. You will be expected to eat too much and carry on conversations with people whose names you probably won't remember right away."
His lips touched hers. He kissed her, and she smiled into the kiss.
"My grandmother will want to pry your entire story out of you. You have to be careful with Memaw. She is very good with sharp objects. Like swords."
"Is there anyone in your family who isn't a deadly swordsman?"
"My stepsister Catherine. She knits with superhuman speed and poisons people."
Audrey laughed. "The Mar family: everyone you see can kill you."
"Something like that. Then we'll go to my house."
Her eyes snapped open. "You have a house?"
He nodded. "You'll like it."
Audrey rolled to her feet. "Well, I better get on with opening the lock then."
"What is it with you and houses?" Kaldar asked.
"We moved a lot when I was little," she said, examining the last lock. "I lost count of how many places we lived. We never owned any of them. I want a place of our own. Okay, you might have to help me with this. I need an extra hand."
They fiddled with the lock for almost ten minutes. Finally, it clicked. The vault door swung open with a whisper. Lights flared inside one by one, weak but revealing enough to illuminate a long, rectangular room. Gold coins lay here and there, piled in casual heaps. Priceless art hung on the walls, under thick glass. Gadgets and statues from both worlds stood, each on its own pedestal, backlit by colored lamps. To the right, a huge ruby sat under glass, like a drop of blood-colored ice.
"Best date ever," Audrey whispered.
Kaldar clicked a small wheel on his spyglass and surveyed the room through it. No additional defenses. He clicked the wheel again.
"Nothing. Either Morell is using something the Mirror had no knowledge of, or he didn't bother putting heavy internal alarm systems inside the vault. Shall we take a chance?"
Audrey nodded. "You take me to such interesting places, Master Mar."
"I strive to please."
Audrey held her breath. They stepped forward in unison.
Nothing.
She exhaled.
"Twelve minutes," Kaldar said, checking his watch. "We need to move."
It took them almost ten minutes to find the diffusers. They waited in the same wooden box Audrey had originally stolen. She opened it and stared at the twin bracelets. The source of all her problems. Dread washed over her in a cold wave.
Kaldar pulled out the fakes from his backpack.
"This is it," she said. "This is what my brother and Gnome died for."
He crouched by her.
"I wish I could rewind time and go back to when my father asked me to take this job. I wish I had told him no."
"Then we would have never met." He pulled her to him and kissed her.
"I wish it was done," Audrey said softly. "I wish we were free and clear. I have this awful feeling that something will go wrong." Apprehension had churned in her stomach ever since Helena d'Amry walked into that ballroom. Her instincts warned Audrey that things wouldn't go as planned, and she'd learned long ago to trust her intuition. It had saved her more than once from being caught, and now it was screaming at her to get out. But they were in, and until the auction concluded tomorrow, they couldn't leave.
"I know," Kaldar told her. "I have it, too. We'll be fine." Audrey looked at the diffusers. An irrational urge to smash them swelled in her.
"Come on," Kaldar said. "Let's replace them and be done. We have ten minutes till the spider makes the guards run around again."
They swapped the bracelets, put the box back on its pedestal, and left the vault.
MORNING came far too quickly for Audrey's taste. Last night, after Kaldar kissed her, both of them hanging on the sheer wall, she climbed back to her room, changed her clothes, and got into bed.
And then she stayed awake. She rolled on her side, on her stomach, on her side again. She flipped the pillow until both sides of it were too hot to sleep on.
She finally fell asleep and woke up at the first light, tired and groggy. Cerise had lent her a gown, a complicated twisted affair of blue that took forever to put on, but at least the skirt was wide enough that she could run in it, and the pleats hid the dagger Gaston had given her.
They just had to get through today. Just get through.
A servant brought a breakfast tray. She forced herself to eat some of the fruit and a small piece of some sweet pastry. Low blood sugar was bad in their business.
A knock sounded through the door leading to Cerise's quarters.
"Come in!"
Cerise stepped into her room carrying an odd collection of buckles and belts, attached to an oblong metal disk. About four inches wide and six inches long, the disk bore the complex ornamentation of the Weird that usually meant there were high-magic gears inside.
"What's this for?"
"An emergency escape harness." Cerise handed her the harness. "Think of it as a parachute. Kaldar has this too, more than one. They come standard issue on most missions. You never know when you have to dive off a mountain cliff. If you put your night suit on, we can fit it over it, then pick a good dress to hide it."
On autopilot, Audrey ran her hands along the belts, checking them for weak spots. "Why did you decide to work for the Mirror?"
Cerise sat next to her on the bed. "About two years ago, my family was in trouble. William made a deal with the Mirror: they would give us asylum in Adrianglia. In return, he has to work for them for ten years. He's a changeling who's been trained as a soldier. The work is good for him. It lets him practice all the skills he already has." Cerise sighed. "And if something happened to him while he was working off his debt to the Mirror, I would never forgive myself. I don't want him to die because of my family. So I go with him. That way, there are two of us, and we watch each other's back."
"What happens if William stops working for the Mirror before ten years are up?" Audrey asked.
"He won't. He gave his word. But if he ever did, our family would lose its asylum."
"And Kaldar?"
"Kaldar has no similar agreements with the Mirror," Cerise said. "He does it because he wants revenge. And because, if something happened to William, his work and mine would give the Mirror an additional incentive to keep protecting our family."
Nothing in the world was free. Audrey looked at the harness.
"Look, it's not that bad." Cerise grinned at her. "I enjoy it. As long as we follow the orders and deliver the results, they treat us like heroes. Come on, it's time to get dressed."
008
HALF an hour later, a guard knocked on her door. The auction was about to begin. She and Cerise followed William and the guard through the hallway to a large room Audrey promptly dubbed "Blue Hall."
The Blue Hall had five exits, the one through which they had entered and two in each of the side walls. All the walls were painted a bright, happy blue. Two guards decorated each entrance, looking like they meant business. Two additional guards stood at the end of the room, where an auctioneer's block rose, facing rows of white chairs upholstered with blue, with an aisle between them. A throne-like chair stood to the block's left, facing the audience. No doubt that was where Morell would sit. As they were led to their seats, Audrey craned her neck and spotted the boys in the third row, watched over by Gaston in black leather, with the kind of scowl that made people cringe. Farther toward the auctioneer's podium, Kaldar was talking to Morell. They seemed relaxed, their postures telegraphing calm nerves. Morell was smiling. The robber baron seemed to genuinely like Kaldar.
Like him or not, Morell would kill Kaldar all the same. She'd counted twelve guards in the Blue Hall alone. She wasn't the only one looking, either. All around her, bodyguards scanned the room, ushering their employers to their seats.
Cerise took her seat - the third chair in the row. Audrey paused, expecting William to follow, but he shook his head. "Get in."
"But shouldn't you sit together?"
"You'll sit between us," William said. "We can better protect you that way."
Audrey sat next to Cerise. Kaldar's cousin squeezed her hand, and whispered, "Stay close to me."
A moment later, Francis landed in the chair in front of Cerise, turned, and hit her with a melodramatic stare.
Helena d'Amry strode through the door. Tall, elegant, she seemed to project aristocratic haughtiness and refinement. People moved out of her way. Men bowed. Women gave her the evil eye and shriveled the moment her slit-pupiled eyes glanced at them.
The tattooed man who'd thrown Gnome's head at Audrey followed Helena, barely a step behind. Sebastian, Audrey remembered. Fear squirmed through her in a cold, nauseating wave. She tensed and forced herself to look past him at the rest of Helena's crew. Four more people rounded out Helena's party: a bald man, hard and sharp, naked to the waist and carrying a sword; a large woman with a mane of red hair, who could probably pick up any person in the room and hurl them into a wall; a cloaked figure who could be either female or male; and another man who moved with a jerky gait. He looked hungry, and he surveyed the people in front of him like they were meat.
Helena walked by her and slowed. Bright emerald eyes took her measure. The stare promised death. Audrey stared back.
The blueblood bitch arched her eyebrows and moved on, and Audrey found herself face-to-face with Sebastian. She looked into his eyes and saw a completely different kind of threat. He inclined his head in a mocking bow and kissed the air.
It took everything she had to keep her expression calm.
The man smiled, showing her a mouthful of fangs, and followed Helena like a loyal dog. They sat two rows ahead. The bald man took a chair behind them.
Audrey took a deep breath, forced a smile, and tried to pretend she was safe and carefree.
"IS there a particular item your mistress is interested in?" Morell asked.
Kaldar smiled. "The painting, Nature's Cathedral." He'd taken a good look at it in the vault while Audrey had tinkered with the box. He saw her now, sitting next to Cerise. William and Cerise would look after her. He had to look after the boys. As long as all of them minded their p's and q's, they would get out of here alive.
"Ah! One of Francis's pieces. I believe I could make your life significantly easier - "
A commotion broke out at the door. A moment later, the veekings parted, and a man in a complicated pleated tunic and a pleated kilt that marked him as West Egyptian marched into the room. Muscular, he moved like a panther, stalking and graceful. A gold band sat on his short black hair, encircling his forehead, bright against skin the color of hazelnut. His face, all sharp angles and hard lines, radiated arrogance, and his eyes, completely black, promised no quarter. His tunic and his kilt were of deep emerald green.
Behind him five men moved into the room. Dressed in black, of identical height, all dark, all athletic, all with an obvious military bearing. The man in green clapped, and the five warriors snapped into a half-moon formation behind him.
Green, gold, and black. Bast colors.
The butler banged a staff at the door. "Prince Abubakar of West Egypt."
The Claws of Bast. Fucking shit.
How did they even find them?
A servant ran up to Morell's side and handed him an invitation. Morell glanced at it. "I see Jennifer Lowe won't be attending, either. Apparently, she surrendered her invitation to the prince. His lips curved in a smile. "I seem to be in the company of all sorts of new friends. How interesting. I do hope we will all get along."
AUDREY fanned herself with the booklet listing the items for auction. They had been in the Blue Hall for over an hour. Francis's painting came and went. Kaldar and Cerise had gotten into a serious bidding war over it for appearance's sake. Kaldar won, and now Cerise pretended to pout. Morell gazed on all of it from his throne, enjoying every second.
"Lot twenty-seven," the thin woman who served as the auctioneer announced. "The Bracelets of Kul."
A guard brought out the familiar wooden box.
"Bidding will start at . . ."
"Ten thousand Gaulish crowns," Helena d'Amry announced.
"Fifteen thousand," Prince Abubakar called out.
Audrey clutched her booklet. She'd pegged him for a Claw as soon as he walked through the door. The Egyptians had made the damn things. If he won the auction, he would know immediately that the bracelets were counterfeit.
Heads turned.
"Fifteen thousand once," the auctioneer began.
"Twenty," Helena said.
"Thirty," the Egyptian answered.
"Thirty-five."
"Fifty."
"Fifty-five."
"Sixty."
"Sixty-five."
"Eighty thousand," the Egyptian announced.
Helena paused. "Eighty-five."
"A hundred."
Helena bowed her head. "We accept defeat."
In the row in front, Kaldar leaned toward the boys. Audrey grasped Cerise's hand tightly.
"Sold, to Prince Abubakar!"
Cerise reached into her wide cream skirt. Next to her, William leaned back, half turned in his seat.
The Egyptian motioned with his hand. The Claw of Bast sitting closest to the aisle rose, held out a leather bag, and emptied its contents on the floor. Slender gold bars scattered onto the blue carpet. Ten ten-thousand bricks of gold.
Jesus.
"I will take the item now!" Prince Abubakar declared.
The auctioneer glanced at Morell.
Say no, Audrey willed silently. Say no.
Morell nodded.
"As Your Highness wishes."
The guard carried the box down the aisle.
The Claw of Bast picked up the box, turned, bowing, and delivered it to Abubakar. The prince rose and picked up one of the bracelets. "It's a forgery!"
"I assure you the item is genuine," Morell said. "It's been tested."
The prince hurled the bracelet at Morell. The baron snapped it out of the air. His eyes widened.
"It's a fake!" Abubakar roared.
The Claws of Bast surged to their feet.
The prince pointed at Helena. "You! It was you!"
Helena grinned, displaying even, sharp teeth. "Be careful, sirrah." Around her, the Hounds rose. The red mane on the tall woman rose like the hackles of a pissed-off dog.
People shifted away from them.
"Calm down," Morell roared. "Stay in your seats, please."
The prince clenched his fist.
"There is - "
In the aisle, the Claw of Bast jerked. His clothing tore open in a blur, and an enormous black panther leaped across the rows of seats and knocked the redheaded woman off her feet.
" - no need to panic!"
The panther's massive mouth grasped the woman's neck. Blood gushed, and her head drooped, limp.
People fled. Bodyguards screamed, pushing their charges out the door.
The Claws of Bast surged forward.
Helena's eyes spilled white lightning.
Sebastian lunged at the panther. A curved knife flashed. Blood sprayed.
William jumped to his feet, reached over the row of chairs, and yanked Francis out of his seat like he was a child. Audrey shot out of her chair. William plowed into the aisle, knocking people out of the way, dragging Francis. Audrey dashed after him.
Helena's hair stirred, as if caught by a phantom wind. The floor underneath them shuddered. White lightning whipped from her in three spinning balls. The Claws of Bast dodged. One of them ran straight into William. The Egyptian hissed like a mad cat. William opened his mouth and snarled, a raw primal lupine promise of violence and blood. The Claw jerked back, surprised. William half dragged, half carried, Francis out the side door.
Audrey caught a glimpse of Jack's reddish hair and saw Kaldar - he was pushing the boys out through an entrance to the left.
"Keep moving," Cerise barked behind her.
A hand shoved her out into a hallway.
"What are you doing?" Francis cried out. "Let go!"
"Shut up!" William strode down the hallway, pulling him along effortlessly. "This way. The outside scents are stronger here."
They turned the corner.
"I've had enough of your brutality!" Francis dug his heels in. William didn't even notice.
Behind them, a door burst open. Guards spilled into the hallway.
Another door blocked their exit.
"I demand you let me go!"
William dropped him and hammered a kick into the door. It held.
"Reinforced," William said.
"Let me!" Audrey pushed forward to the door. Her magic streamed from her. She felt the lock - a complex key tumbler . . . and two bars across the door, one at the top, one at the bottom. Two heavy bars. Damn it. "I'll need a few seconds."
The guards sighted them.
William whirled, metal spikes in his hands. He tossed two to Cerise and thrust two into the wall to the left, one high, one at the ground.
"Wait, we can explain!" Francis said. "We're guests!"
Cerise jabbed her spikes into the right wall at the same heights as William's.
"They don't care," William told him.
The guards opened fire. A hail of charged bullets filled the hallway. The spikes flashed. A pale shield of blue magic flared between them, searing the bullets in mid-flight.
The key tumbler clicked open. Her magic focused on the top bar, trying to slide it back. Audrey strained. The bar rattled in its cradle. Heavy. Move. Move.
"How are you doing, Audrey?" Cerise asked.
"Need . . . a few . . . seconds . . ."
The guards abandoned their guns. The veekings trotted forward, blades out.
"Honey?" William asked.
"I thought you'd never ask." Cerise stepped forward, past the spikes.
"Lady Candra! Where are you going?" Francis lunged after her.
William gripped his shoulder and shoved him back. "Stay back, you fool."
The top bar slid back. Audrey exhaled and pushed her magic down, to the bottom. It grasped the bottom bar, tugging. It felt like she was trying to lift a car.
Cerise reached into her skirt and withdrew a slender blade.
The veekings pondered her for a moment - she looked absurd in her beautiful beige gown - and resumed their assault.
Cerise leaned forward. The pointed shoe on her right foot rubbed the ground.
"Help her!" Francis gripped William's arm. "If you don't, at least let me!"
A spark of white light slid along the edge of the blade.
The first veeking was a mere five feet away.
Cerise struck.
She moved so fast, she blurred. Cut, cut, cut, and Cerise halted, like a dancer in mid-move, her sword dripping blood.
The front four veekings didn't scream. They just fell. The one on the left lingered. His head slid off the stump of his neck and tumbled to the floor. His body dropped to its knees.
The guards halted. Francis closed his mouth with a click.
"Audrey?" Cerise asked without turning.
"One lock left."
The remaining veekings charged. Cerise cut, fast, precise, silent.
The bar slid back. Audrey gasped and bent in half, pain blossoming in the pit of her stomach. Too much magic, too fast. By the time she managed to straighten up again, the bodies of the veekings filled the hallway. Cerise wiped her blade on the skirt of her gown.
William yanked the door open, grabbed Francis with one hand and Audrey with the other, and pulled them through. They marched onto the castle ramparts into the sunshine. Cerise walked behind them, her face tranquil and slightly sad, as if she had just spent a day in prayer.
William leaned his head back and howled. The long high-pitched note of his wolf song rolled through the castle, eerie in the daylight.
A door burst open in the tower to the right, and Kaldar, Gaston, and the boys tumbled out into the sunlight onto a small balcony. Jack's hands and face were bloody, and he was grinning like a maniac. George's rapier dripped with red, as did Kaldar's sword. He saw them and saluted, a big grin on his face.
William yanked off his jacket. A harness was strapped around his chest and waist.
"What is this?" Francis finally found his voice. "Who are you people?"
Cerise shrugged off her dress, revealing a tight black suit and the emergency harness she wore underneath. Audrey pulled off her own gown. At the other balcony, Kaldar, Gaston, and the kids shed their clothes.
William pulled his jacket apart, yanking another harness out of the lining, and slapped it on Francis, hooking it to his own with a short rope.
"Audrey, you're with me." Cerise motioned to her, attached the short rope to her harness, and checked her buckles and straps.
Shouts came from inside the castle.
Gaston jumped off the balcony. Twin streams of blue unfolded from his harness, snapping into fabric wings. Behind him Jack followed, tethered to Gaston with a short rope. They glided down to the trees.
William kissed Cerise, grasped Francis, hurled him over the parapet, and jumped after him. The young man screamed. The two men plunged down, then their wings opened.
Cerise held out her hand. "Come on. We'll do it together."
Kaldar screamed out a warning.
Audrey turned. A huge clawed shape fell at them from the sky. Audrey caught a flash of furry hide, massive claws, a dark cavernous mouth on the serpentine neck, and a single rider on the beast's back.
Cerise spun, but it was too late. The creature's claws smashed into Kaldar's cousin. The impact knocked her off the wall. For a moment, Audrey saw Cerise falling as if in slow motion, her dark hair flaring about her, her mouth open in surprise and anger, and then she vanished behind the parapet. The world snapped back to its normal pace. The rope attaching Audrey to Cerise yanked and pulled Audrey toward the edge after Cerise. Before she could escape, the rider dropped off the beast, severing the rope with a cut of his knife.
Sebastian.
Audrey backed away from the edge. He came toward her, his eyes fixed on her face with predatory glee. Helena emerged from the door leading back into the castle. Blood stained her uniform.
On the other balcony, Kaldar cut the rope between him and George and pushed the boy into the open air.
"Go!" Audrey screamed at him. "Go!"
She sprinted to the edge. Helena and Sebastian dashed to intercept.
The railing loomed before her. Almost safe.
Helena's kick smashed into her. The impact spun her around, and Audrey crashed to the stone floor. A hand grasped her neck. Sebastian yanked her up.
Her throat closed, blocked by pain.
Suddenly, she couldn't breathe. Audrey tried to kick, but her feet found only air.
The world swam.
"A trade," she heard Helena's cold voice saying. "Your life for hers."
No, she wanted to yell, but her throat refused to obey. No, you idiot!
Through the watery haze in her eyes she saw Kaldar a few feet away. His face was so calm.
"A good trade," he said.
"No!" she yelled, but the word came out as a weak croak.
Kaldar took off his harness, dropped it on the ground, and raised his hands to the back of his head.
"Let her go," Helena said.
The pressure ground her throat.
"Sebastian! Let her go."
Sebastian hurled her over the balcony railing. She fell, plummeting downward. The trees rushed at her. Her wings snapped open, but the ground came too fast. Audrey crashed into a tree. The branches snapped under her as she fell from limb to limb, her wings a torn shroud around her, and then the ground punched her, and all was still.
Audrey staggered to her feet. Her knees shook. A piercing, sharp pain fractured her ribs.
Far above, the castle jutted out of the mountain. When they had approached the castle for the first time, their wyvern had landed to the north of it. Judging by the sun, she had landed to the west. Getting to the wyvern was her only hope.
She had to get moving. She had to find the boys and Gaston, and then she had to rescue Kaldar.
Audrey wiped the blood from her face and started walking north.