It was twenty to three when I finished in the restroom and emerged into the lobby. I didn’t want to go up to the mezzanine and be stared at by other people waiting for the first session to start. Instead, I went into the bar.
Kevin was there, polishing the stone of the bar counter, and he smiled that glorious smile when he saw me. Despite the ache in my heart, I smiled back. “Is everything all right?” he said when I slid onto a bar stool. “You ran out of here so quickly I was worried. You said your friend was hurt.”
“He’s not doing well. But thanks for asking. Could I get a Diet Coke?”
“Sure.” He put a tall glass in front of me, and I gulped it down gratefully. The carbonation burned the back of my throat.
“I needed—” I belched unexpectedly and blushed. Kevin laughed.
“Sometimes burping is what we need,” he said. “Don’t worry, no one else heard that.”
“Just you hearing it was bad enough.”
“Oh, I still think you’re hot, if that’s what you were thinking.” He winked, and I blushed harder. “Look, I know you’re worried about your friend, and I don’t want to pressure you. I just think you could use some time away from all this.” He gestured with the hand holding the rag. “How about you and me get something to eat later?”
For a long moment, I considered it. Kevin was cute, and nice, and I liked him, and Malcolm—well, I was angry with Malcolm, and maybe—
What am I thinking?
“That’s nice of you, but I have a boyfriend,” I said. “I’m sorry. Any other time—”
“No, I get it. I should have guessed someone like you couldn’t be single.” Kevin smiled at me again. “Where is this mysterious boyfriend of yours, that he’s not hovering over you so guys like me can’t make a play for you?”
I smiled back. “He’s been out of town. And he’s not much for the conference scene, anyway.”
“Not in the heating and cooling business? I guess he can’t handle the action. All that excitement.”
I finished my drink. “I’d better get up there. Thanks for everything.”
“Hey, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
I slid off the bar stool and headed for the exit, feeling Kevin’s eyes on me. I couldn’t believe I’d actually considered cheating on Malcolm. However angry I was with him, that was…it was just stupid.
I replayed our argument and stopped in the middle of the lobby, closing my eyes against the memory. I’d been a jerk, too, jumping down his throat when he probably hadn’t meant he thought Harry had deserved to be attacked. I’d been so stupid.
I pulled out my phone and called him. It rang and rang and finally went to voice mail. I hung up without leaving a message; we’d both agreed not to leave evidence in the form of voice mails on each other’s phones, not knowing how quickly we’d be able to delete them. I shouldn’t have ignored him earlier. Now he was probably mad at me, at how insensitive I’d been, and he…he wouldn’t break up with me over this, would he? The ache in my chest returned, and I blinked away tears. I was being stupid again. This would pass. He’d find me, and hold me until all my pain disappeared, and I would kiss him until we both forgot our own names.
Maybe.
I trudged up the stairs to the mezzanine. The last thing I wanted was to listen to another boring presentation on things that didn’t matter to me, but I had to be there, if only to make sure Greenough didn’t get a chance to corner a Board member or three and convince them her proposal was a good one. It was time I did a little cornering of my own.
8
The conference rooms had exciting names, but their décor was as bland as any cheap hotel. After seeing my suite, I’d have thought the Grandison would spring for something a little more upscale. But the carpeting was gray Berber with an asymmetrical pattern, the walls were a plain cream, and the chairs, while well padded, were still just the sort that stacked together to huddle in a closet when not in use. I shifted in my seat and clapped with the rest of the audience as the moderator thanked the panelists for their participation. It had been boring, a panel on changes to the rules governing faction use of the magic produced by the nodes, but it wasn’t why I was here.
I stood and rapidly made my way to the front of the room. The panelists were taking their time about rising, chatting to each other, and I almost backed away to give them room. I reminded myself this wasn’t about me, it was about Abernathy’s, and stepped forward. “Mr. Harrison? Mr. Chukwu?”
The two men paused in their conversation and turned to face me. Both looked annoyed, though Chukwu’s expression became slightly more welcoming when he registered who I was. That was reassuring. “Yes, Ms. Davies?” he said in a beautiful, liquid tenor.
“I wanted to speak to you about Rebecca Greenough’s proposal to the Board. Her request that Abernathy’s be moved to London.” I carefully didn’t say back to London. I didn’t want them thinking in terms of where the store’s rightful place might be.
“What about it?”
“I hope you’ll turn it down. Moving Abernathy’s is extremely dangerous, and Ms. Greenough’s reasons amount to whims.”
“You think you’re in a position to criticize a node custodian?” Harrison said, and my heart sank, because his accent was the same perfect English as Greenough’s. “Just because you are custodian of a named Neutrality?”
“I don’t think I’m better than her. Abernathy’s is in my care, and I do think I know what’s best for it. I’d have to, don’t you think?”
“Having Abernathy’s located more centrally can benefit all of magery,” Harrison said.
“Actually, having it slightly out of the way has benefited it. It’s easy to conceal the store here. In London, in Charing Cross Road, all sorts of non-magi will visit it, and keeping the secret will be that much more difficult.”
“What would moving the store entail?” said Chukwu.
That caught me off-guard. “Well…Silas Abernathy described the procedure thoroughly. It requires keeping all the books as close together as possible, and moving them as a unit. They have to go by ship, which is its own kind of complication. Magi guarded the shipment around the clock. Silas spoke of mundane officials trying to interfere with the crates, and attacks by invaders—it couldn’t be warded during transit. You see how the first move was an act of desperation, guided by the oracle itself.”
“And what does the oracle say now?”
“Um…well, it’s declined to give instructions in this case.”
“Meaning the decision is ours. As it should be,” Harrison said. “We’ll consider your input, Ms. Davies.” He said it in a way that suggested he didn’t think my input mattered at all.
Chukwu extended his hand to me. “It was a pleasure meeting you,” he said, and unlike Harrison he sounded sincere. I shook his hand. Harrison didn’t offer his. I made my escape.
That was four of the nine Board members I’d spoken to, and none of them had been very welcoming. Chukwu was the only one who’d even come close to friendliness. Only my fear for the oracle kept me from falling into despair about my personal problem. I couldn’t imagine any of these people being willing to change the Accords just for my benefit.
Back on the mezzanine, I checked my schedule. One more hour to go before Claude’s keynote speech. I had some time to track down more board members.
The middle-aged man who’d checked me in was at the registration table. I approached him with a smile, and he straightened his tie when he noticed me. “Hi,” I said. “Could you tell me where I could find Ms. Stirlaugson? It’s important.”
“The Board members have a private room in Annapurna, but I don’t think—”
“Thanks,” I said, smiling, and it flustered him enough that he couldn’t finish his objection. I hurried away. Likely the Board wasn’t interested in being bothered in their private retreat, but I only had so much time, and I was pretty sure I had a right to speak on the oracle’s behalf.
I knocked on the door of
the Annapurna room—I’d never heard of a mountain called Annapurna—and waited, trying to control my restless feet. The door opened. “This is a private room,” the woman said. She had her dark hair pulled back tightly like a cheap face lift and sounded bored.
“I’m Helena Davies, custodian of Abernathy’s,” I said, politely but firmly. “I’d like to speak to Ms. Stirlaugson.”
The woman glanced at my lanyard. She looked as if she thought I might have mugged the real Helena Davies and stuffed her in a broom closet. “Abernathy’s?”
“Yes. I’d just like a few moments of the chairwoman’s time.”
The woman looked me in the eye, then held the door for me.
This room had all the luxury I’d expected of the rest of the conference rooms. Its high ceiling had gilded moldings, and a delicate chandelier hung over the center of the room, sparkling silver and crystal. A long conference table took up one side of the room, with comfortably overstuffed chairs on the other and a buffet table in the middle. Three people looked up when I entered. One of them was Ragsdale, the man I thought of as “my” Board member because he was the one who always showed up when there was trouble in Portland. I didn’t recognize the second, an elderly Asian woman with white hair. Stirlaugson sat facing the other two, leaning back and sprawling across the sofa. I would never have expected her to be so relaxed.
“Ms. Davies,” she said without sitting up. “I hope you have a good reason for interrupting us.”
Interrupting what? Naptime? I controlled my impatience and said, “I wanted to talk to you and your fellow Board members about Rebecca Greenough’s proposal.”
“What about it?”
“I urge you to reject it. It’s dangerous and unnecessary. Abernathy’s is fine where it is.”
Stirlaugson let out a deep, impatient sigh. “I’ve heard this before, Ms. Davies.”
“I haven’t,” said the stranger. “I thought moving the store was good for business.”
“I don’t know your name, ma’am.”
“Chao Min. Tell me why we should reject this very logical proposal.” She sat with her hands folded in her lap and gazed at me curiously.
“I don’t know about the Board’s business. What I know is that moving Abernathy’s is very risky. It only happened once before, and that was out of desperation. Please don’t take this chance just because London might be more accessible.”
Chao Min tilted her head to one side, her curious gaze sharpening. “Might be? It is more accessible.”
“People don’t have any trouble coming to Portland. And Abernathy’s does most of its trade in mail-in auguries, no matter where it’s located.”
“That’s enough, Ms. Davies. As I believe I told you, you’ll have your chance to present your statement to the Board.” Stirlaugson stood languidly and stretched, resuming her formal demeanor like putting on a new suit. “If you want us to take you seriously, you should stop importuning us.”
Stung, I turned and fled. She was right; I’d already given her my arguments. I’d probably just hurt my cause by interrupting her naptime.
I shut the door and fumed. Abernathy’s should not be at the mercy of a bunch of people who only saw it as a cash cow, as I was certain Chao Min did. I needed to talk to Judy about this. She might have an idea for organizing our arguments that would persuade the Board.
My phone rang, and I scrambled for it, hoping it was Malcolm. Disappointingly, it was Viv. “What’s up?”
“Jeremiah called. We’re going for drinks in about an hour. I’m so nervous!”
“Viv, why are you nervous? You’re never nervous.”
“I know. I just am.”
“Have fun!” I immediately knew I sounded too cheerful.
“You’re not blowing me off, are you? You don’t sound happy.”
“I had a fight with Ma—Mr. Blaine. Now he won’t take my calls.” I felt like crying again just thinking about it.
“Oh, sweetie. Don’t worry. He’s probably just busy.”
“He’s in Portland. He didn’t even say he’d come to see me. I think I screwed up.”
“Fights happen. Then there’s making up. And make-up sex is great.”
I laughed at her low, throaty purr. “I hope so. I just wish I could apologize.”
“Don’t let him walk over you. I’m sure, if you fought, you weren’t the only one to blame.”
“I wasn’t. But aren’t you the one who says there’s always something each person can apologize for?”
“I’m very wise. Sagacious, even.”
I saw Diane Lakin crossing the mezzanine, headed my way. “I have to go. Thanks, Viv. And have a great time.”
“I will. I hope.”
“Sagacious people are optimistic, too.”
I put away my phone and went to intercept Diane. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure. I can’t guarantee I’ll know the answer.”
“If there’s a challenge to the Accords, a change someone wants to make, how do I defend against it?”
Diane nodded. “You mean the thing about moving Abernathy’s.”
“You’ve heard about it?”
She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Rebecca Greenough has made sure everyone has heard about it. I don’t know why. It’s not as if the Board cares about popular opinion.”
“But what do I do?”
“They’ll probably summon you to make a statement in front of them. You and Greenough both. So if you’ve got a little speech prepared, that will help. Otherwise…I wish I could be more encouraging. Greenough’s subtly suggesting that you’re inadequate as a custodian and are clinging to Abernathy’s staying here to increase your personal power.”
“What?” I exclaimed, louder than I’d wanted.
Diane gripped my arm in reassurance. “I don’t know that anyone’s listening to her. She isn’t well-liked among the custodians, except maybe by the ones who care more than they should about the unofficial rankings. And I hear Lucia Pontarelli is doing her best to counter any bad impressions Greenough might spread. But you should probably make an effort to make the rounds of the parties tonight, show people how nice and fun-loving you are.”
“I intended to last night. A friend was attacked by his familiar and I had to see him.”
Diane whistled. “That’s rough. Is he all right?”
“He will be, but it’s going to be a hard recovery.”
“I’m sorry. I hope everything goes well.”
“Thanks.” I looked past Diane at the nearest conference room. “I think I’ve missed most of this session.”
“I almost never go to the breakout sessions unless I’m presenting. They’re more for the node custodians, anyway. I use the time to visit with old friends and promote my Neutrality’s services.”
I laughed. “Like…buy one cup of water, get the second half-off?”
“We’re not quite at the point of needing to advertise, but that’s what it amounts to. The Fountain of Youth isn’t as guaranteed as, say, liposuction. You can never tell what part of you it will affect. I spend a lot of time explaining what to expect from it. I imagine you have a similar problem.”
“I do get visitors, or mail-in customers, who think the oracle will produce a clear statement in answer to their question. Some of them get angry and refuse to pay, which is a really bad idea.”
Diane’s eyebrows went up. “The oracle blasts them with heavenly fire?”
“No, it refuses to give them an augury ever again. Most people don’t like being cut off from the source of prophecy forever. Though some people I wouldn’t mind seeing blasted with heavenly fire.”
Diane laughed. “I have some of those, too. Let’s go to the ballroom and get good seats for Claude’s address.”
The buffet had been removed, replaced with ranks of chairs like soldiers drawn up for inspection. Their blue and gold tapestry upholstery coordinated with the low-pile carpet and the gold and cream striped wallpaper. The room was cold, not quite wintry, but coo
l enough that I was glad I’d worn a sweater. I settled in next to Diane and said, “Is Claude a good speaker?”
“He loves to tell stories, and he knows lots of them. And how to make them relevant to us.”
The room was filling up fast with custodians, their murmured conversations a tide of words sweeping unintelligibly over me. I looked around for Greenough and found her deep in conversation with a custodian I didn’t know, not a Board member. The Board was taking their places on the front row, all nine of them impeccably dressed in Western-style business suits or the formal garb of their own country. It made for an impressive display of power.
Ragsdale got up and made a few announcements about the next day’s events, then introduced Claude, who took the lectern to vigorous applause. “Thank you,” he said. “I appreciate your welcome, though I am sure many of you are applauding the approach of day’s end. The parties will be wild tonight.” Scattered laughter.
“Tonight I wish to tell you a story that will be familiar to most of you. I hope you’ll indulge me in a recitation of history, for the sake of a new perspective. At least I know you won’t fall asleep. Someone seems to have left open a window.” More people laughed, me included. “So I begin some six hundred years ago, in a town in England called Wareton. A town, and a node, that no longer exist.
“There was a man known to us only as Adam. His occupation was stonemason, and, fittingly, during the Damerel rites he chose the aegis of a stone magus. Adam labored to build the church for which Wareton became famous. He was instrumental in the construction of many of the town’s buildings, and laid wards for every building he assisted with. Wareton’s node was powerful, drawing the attention of many invaders, and it was due to Adam’s work that the town defended itself easily against them.
“You will recall that it is the record of the traveler Jehanne du Barry that tells us what happens next. Jehanne collected the accounts of the survivors and compiled them into a single record. Many details were lost, but we know that in 1459 a stranger came to Wareton, one who performed great miracles. The magi of Wareton welcomed him as a fellow magus, albeit one with unusual abilities. The man would not reveal his aegis, claiming that he had moved beyond such things in his magical capability. He performed acts of healing beyond the ability of Wareton’s bone magi, made a grove of trees grow in one night, performed illusions like no one had ever seen before—this in the days before paper magi were developed.
The Book of Lies Page 9