I blinked. “Because she’s unique?”
“Yes. And whoever controls her has a huge advantage.” Malachi stroked his hairless chin. “The king might demand she be handed over to him, when she reaches her majority. And what will that do, I wonder?”
I finished my tea. “Maybe we’re going about this the wrong way,” I said. “Maybe we should be looking into where the device came from.”
“Building it wouldn’t be hard,” Caroline said. “You’d just have to put the pieces together ...”
Louise gave her a sharp look. “And where would someone living in Water Shallot get the money to buy the pieces? We’re not talking about a handful of coppers here.”
That surprised me. I kicked myself, mentally. It really shouldn’t have. But I’d spent seven years at Jude’s and a further three months at Haddon Hall, where expensive potions ingredients and forging tools had been free for the asking. Louise was right. A person born and bred in Water Shallot would have no hope of buying whatever they needed to make the device. Whoever had made it practically had to come from North or South Shallot.
And some of the items they’d need are on the restricted list, I mused. Even trying to buy them would be a tip-off.
“There’s somewhere you could start looking, if you have time,” Malachi said. “Rebecca Travis.”
Louise coughed. “Her?”
“She’s a Bolingbroke client, with a habit of selling discounted potions to people who live in Water Shallot,” Malachi explained. “She has the contacts to get her hands on ingredients that might be restricted, if she wishes to obtain them. And ... something odd happened in Bolingbroke Hall, shortly after the House War. I heard a rumour that said she was involved.”
“She’s one of the good guys,” Louise said.
“You’d be astonished at just how much you can get away with, if everyone thinks you’re one of the good guys,” Malachi reminded her. “In any case ... I hope you found this meeting useful.”
I scowled as we stood and donned our cloaks. The meeting hadn’t been useful, even if we had been given a tip. But ... I had no idea if the tip was any use. And the hint of other factions within Magus Court and the Great Houses might be useful, or it might be completely misleading. We didn’t have any idea if those factions really existed, if they were really involved ...
“You spent years in a Great House,” I said, to Malachi. “Is it possible there could be a faction that ... that is somehow kept secret from the rest of the family?”
“Yes.” Malachi didn’t sound remotely unsure. “You have to understand, young man. The Great Houses are huge. House Lamplighter is the only real exception and that is because they’ve been in financial trouble for years. The remainder ... even the smaller houses have hundreds of members. It’s quite possible for them to have a dozen factions, each one convinced that it’s alone.”
He rang the bell. His servant appeared within a minute, ready to escort us downstairs. I felt a ward pressing against my defences as we walked, making it harder to sense anything within the house. Malachi didn’t seem to be powerful, compared to his relatives, but he was skilled. Very skilled. I had the feeling he was more than good enough to tie someone who relied on brute force in knots. I nodded to the serving girl as she opened the door and waited for us to leave. She hadn’t spoken a single word. I couldn’t help finding it a little creepy.
“I hope that was interesting,” Louise said, as we made our way back up the streets. “Did you learn anything useful?”
“Perhaps,” Caroline said. Her voice was icy. Her lips were so thin they practically vanished. “Or were you just trying to waste our time?”
Louise made a dismissive gesture. “I thought you needed to hear other voices,” she said. I couldn’t tell if she was being serious. “And to understand that my people could not have carried out the attack.”
“So you say,” Caroline said.
“I let you cast a truth spell on me,” Louise snapped. I hastily cast a privacy ward before we attracted attention. “I put my rights aside to convince you of my innocence. What more do you want me to do?”
She wrapped her cloak around herself before either of us could answer. “Now, I’ve got work to do. Father expects me to take over the store this evening. Or are you going to try and stop me from going home?”
“You might be safer if you came with us,” Caroline warned.
“No.” Louise scowled at me. “If you need to meet again, send me a message via my father.”
She turned and walked away, her back ramrod straight. It took me a moment to realise she half-expected to be hexed in the back. We could arrest her ... technically, we had enough authority to do so even without the state of emergency. Lord Dirac would probably not complain - much - if we brought her in. But we knew she was innocent. We couldn’t arrest her, even if it would keep her safe.
“Your taste in women is appalling,” Caroline muttered, as we started to walk towards the bridges. “Did you lose the ability to think as soon as she took off her clothes?”
I felt myself flush. “She’s not a bad person.”
“She has a cause,” Caroline said. “People with causes tend to be dangerous. And you know it.”
I said nothing as we passed a row of guardsmen, looking increasingly nervous as they waited on a street corner. It didn’t look as if they were planning a raid or ... well, anything. It looked more like their superiors had thrown them onto the streets to make a show of strength without any plan. The locals weren’t going to like it. I felt them watching as we left them behind, doing our best to ignore them.
There was trouble in the air. I could feel it.
“Interesting,” Caroline mused, as we reached the bridges. “Are they allowed to block passage to North Shallot?”
“I think, right now, they can do whatever they like,” I said. The guardsmen inspected our rings, then waved us through. “Bastards.”
I scowled as we crossed the bridges. The guardsmen were searching carriages and a number of pedestrians, although I noticed they seemed to spend more time searching the young female pedestrians than the men who might be more dangerous. The lawsuits were going to be a nightmare, once the state of emergency was finally lifted. I wondered if they’d have the wit to formally absolve the guardsmen before the suits could be filed. Lord Dirac might not think of it. I certainly wasn’t going to tell him.
Sir Griffons met us as we reached home. “What happened?”
“We found her,” Caroline said. She explained everything, from our interrogation of Louise to our meeting with Malachi Rubén. “She appears to be innocent.”
“But still on the wanted list, once they figure out who she is,” Sir Griffons said. He held out an envelope. “You have a letter.”
I took the envelope and frowned. It wasn’t just made of the very finest paper. It was scented with perfume ... nothing illicit, as far as I could tell, but more than enough to catch my attention. I turned it over and over in my hand, trying to learn as much as I could before I opened it to check my deductions. The handwriting was very feminine, and quite probably aristocratic, but I didn’t recognise it. I had no idea who’d written to me.
Caroline’s lips brushed against my ear. “Another girlfriend?”
“Shut up.” I ignored her giggle as I opened the envelope. Inside, there was a single sheet of scented paper. “It’s an invite to a ball in honour of Prince Jacob.”
“Charming,” Caroline said. “From whom?”
“Saline,” I said, surprised. “Tonight. I ... I don’t think we should go.”
“You should,” Sir Griffons said. “You’ve been invited. You should go.”
“Sir?”
“We need to know the mood on the ground,” Sir Griffons said. “And Lord Dirac can hardly object if you’re invited, can he?”
“Probably,” Caroline muttered. “Dress robes again, sir?”
“No,” Sir Griffons said. “But make sure you wear something nice.”
Chapter Twe
nty-Six
“You look cute,” Caroline said teasingly, as she descended the stairs. “Quite the little aristocrat.”
I glared. I’d had to hire the suit from a local tailor, the sort of thing that turned aristocrats into laughingstocks ... not that I cared about that, of course. It felt disquietingly like I was going back to school: black jacket, black tie, black trousers, white shirt ... Caroline, of course, looked stunning in a long yellow dress that hinted at, rather than revealed, her curves. She’d deliberately picked one that would keep a distance between her and any prospective paramours. I supposed it make a certain kind of sense. Too many aristocrats had wandering hands when confronted with someone young, female and deprived of family connections.
They’d be more careful if they knew how much magic she had, I thought, as I held out my arm. She took it and allowed me to lead her into the courtyard. The carriage was already waiting. She could give almost any aristo a real lesson in manners.
The driver cracked the whip as soon as we clambered in, spurring the horses out of the courtyard and down the street. I peered out the window, noting how darkness had spread over the city. North Shallot seemed to glow with pinpricks of light, while Water Shallot was awash in darkness. I wondered why the streets looked so dim. It wasn’t as if it was hard to cast lighting spells. I’d mastered them well before I’d gone to Jude’s. Perhaps they just wanted to make the streets safe for footpads or unsafe for the guardsmen. I assumed they were still on the streets.
Caroline smiled as we turned a corner. “Remember to check in with as many of your old friends as possible.”
I groaned. There weren’t many of my old classmates I wanted to see. Louise was perhaps the only person I wanted to see, and there was no way in hell she’d be invited. Saline might have planned the party, but I doubted she had control over the guest list. I was mildly surprised she’d invited us. It wasn’t as if we were aristos. We certainly couldn’t help her in any way.
Maybe she’s rebelling against her parents, I mused. Or making it clear to her family that she’s not going to toe the line any longer.
The carriage rattled to a halt. I opened the door and peered out. We’d parked below a small mansion, sitting on a mid-sized hillock. I frowned, remembering what little I’d heard about the Greenbank Mansion. The Greenbank Family had deeded it to a social club, if I recalled correctly. And the social club had turned it into a party house. The building was brightly lit, every last window streaming light onto the grounds. A footman stepped up with a foot rest. I smiled and stepped down, then assisted Caroline to descend. It wasn’t easy in her dress, but she managed it. I wondered when she’d found the time to practice.
“Well,” Caroline said, after tipping the footman. “Shall we go?”
I took her arm. We walked up the path towards the house, trying to ignore the handful of peacocks and other exotic animals the family had gathered to showcase their wealth. I thought I spotted a unicorn in the ill-lit grove, although I didn’t believe it. Unicorns were so rare that it was far more likely someone had cast a glamour on a pony. The family could have paid off their debts and then some if they’d sold a real unicorn to the zoo.
The noise of music and dancing grew louder as we approached the French Windows. A pair of aristos stood by the door, smiling at all and sundry. I started as I recognised Saline, wearing a long blue dress that set off her eyes. She wasn’t wearing any family livery, as if she’d chosen to put her family name aside for the night. I didn’t blame her. It was starting to look as though the party wasn’t something of which the older folk would approve, if they were forced to take official notice. I felt a twinge of sympathy for the servants. They’d have to clean up the mess before the owners returned to take stock.
“Adam,” Saline said. She leaned forward and planted a kiss on my cheek. “So good to see you again.”
I concealed my astonishment with an effort. Saline and I had never been friends. I had no idea why she’d invited us, unless she wanted to scandalise her parents. There wouldn’t be many commoners amongst the guests. Saline might have invited a few dozen clients - and former students - but the smart ones might have found an excuse to stay away. Here, the aristo brats were letting their hair down - literally - and allowing their inner demons to run free. I didn’t feel remotely comfortable.
“My pleasure,” I lied.
“Prince Jacob will be making his appearance shortly,” Saline said, as she exchanged air kisses with Caroline. “I do trust you’ll show your support.”
“I’ll be happy to show my support,” I said. It wasn’t entirely untrue. I’d be happy to show my non-existent support. Hell, even if I did support him ... so what? No one was going to be swayed by my opinion. “Why did you throw a party for him?”
“His cause is just.” Saline’s eyes shone like a woman in love. “And he’s so dreamy.”
And supporting him upsets your family, I added, silently. Saline had plenty of reason to make her family uncomfortable. And they’d have problems doing anything about it without making the whole story of just what had happened to her public. I suppose that’s why you invited us too.
I bowed politely, then stepped inside. The doors opened into a massive hall, teeming with aristocrats and servants. I’d attended some parties at Jude’s - the parties the staff weren’t supposed to know about had been the best - but this was a whole other world. The elegance of the Lamplighter Ball was nowhere in evidence. Aristos glided around the hall, stuffing their faces like pigs or flirting tastelessly with the servants. The men - they were all young, as far as I could tell - wore suits like mine. The women wore dresses that would get them in real trouble if they wore them at a formal ball. Caroline was the most conservative dresser within eyeshot.
A serving girl offered us a drink. I took a glass of wine and muttered a charm to remove the alcohol, unwilling to risk getting tipsy or drunk in the midst of such a hostile crowd. They might be smiling now, but they could turn nasty in a heartbeat. The wine wasn’t very good, I decided. Perhaps it was an acquired taste. It wasn’t as if I’d ever had the money to become a wine aficionado.
Caroline squeezed my hand. “See anyone you recognise?”
I shook my head, slowly. Akin wouldn’t attend. He was the Heir Primus. He couldn’t attend without giving some legitimacy to Prince Jacob’s cause. Francis would probably have loved the party, damn him, but ... he was dead. The others ... I thought I spotted a trio of girls a year older than me ... it was hard to be sure. They were trying so hard to look older that I couldn’t be certain. Besides, I doubted they’d have time for me. They’d never paid any attention to anyone who didn’t have a lineage stretching all the way back to the Thousand-Year Empire.
We slipped onto the dance floor and whirled about, losing ourselves - just for a moment - in the tune. There didn’t seem to be anyone calling the dances. The dancers just did whatever steps came naturally, although - somehow - they seemed to avoid stepping on each other’s toes. I blinked as a girl whirled by, wearing an outfit that looked as if it was permanently on the verge of falling off and pooling around her feet. I supposed the only thing holding it in place was magic - and the eyes of every young man in the room.
“Eyes front,” Caroline teased. “Really.”
A young man came up to us as the music changed and asked Caroline to dance. She accepted, nodding to me as she allowed him to lead the way. I frowned, feeling suddenly very alone. I didn’t belong in this crowd. I was alone in the midst of strangers ...
“Adam.” I turned and saw Alana standing behind me. “It is you.”
I stared at her. Alana shouldn’t have been anywhere near the party, but here she was, wearing a low-cut dress that showed off her body to best advantage. Her father was going to kill her when he found out, perhaps literally. If my sister had worn something like that, in a party heaving with tipsy young men, my father would have exploded with rage. Toni wouldn’t have been able to sit comfortably for weeks. I dreaded to think what my father would do to
any young man who looked at her twice.
“I got an invitation,” I said. I held out a hand. “Would you like to dance?”
Alana shrugged, then took my hand. “I hear you’re a Kingsman now,” she said, as we moved around the floor. She was a better dancer than Caroline. “How ... nice.”
The way she said it, as if it was a joke, made my blood boil. “I’m not a man to be laughed at,” I said, trying to keep my irritation under control. “I ...”
“I know.” Alana smirked. “I’ve heard you try to crack jokes.”
I glared. “What are you doing here? You’re the Heir Primus.”
“I got bored.” Alana winked at me. “And I don’t want Dad to think I’ll do everything he wants.”
I frowned, surprised. Alana was probably the haughtiest girl I knew, which put her up against some pretty stiff competition, but she was far from stupid. Her father might have paid her way into becoming Head Girl, but she wouldn’t have been given high marks in class unless she’d earned them. She knew - she had to know - about the complex vortex of politics surrounding Prince Jacob. Akin knew. She certainly shouldn’t be anywhere near him.
“Never a good idea,” I said. “Your hair is still in braids.”
Alana’s face twisted. I saw a flash of frustration in her dark eyes. “I’ll have my season at the end of the summer.”
I tried to conceal my amusement. Alana’s friends - or cronies, the nasty part of my mind added - would be having their seasons now, while she ... formally, she couldn’t enter the marriage market until she had her season later. It had to be really irritating to know she was being held back, simply because her sister’s betrothal couldn’t - yet - be converted to a formal engagement. I wondered just how badly she was being teased, by her social equals. They were probably sniggering. I might have done the same, if I was in their shoes.
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