“There is a taint in your blood,” she said, “but I can draw it out of you.”
“No,” he said, his vision clearing just enough to let him see her face. “Might...hurt you.”
“It was clearly meant for a human,” she said softly. “It will do me no harm.”
Before he could respond, she bit him again. He was lost in another kind of limbo, aware of her scent, the softness of her skin, the soothing warmth where her lips met his neck. Several times he heard her spit out the blood. He tried to push her away, but his arms and legs had lost all sensation and he felt himself losing consciousness.
He woke in Isis’s bed, her silken sheets pulled up to his chest, her pillow under his head. She paced beside the bed, turning when she heard him stir.
“Isis?” he croaked, trying to sit up. She pushed him back down and sat on the bed beside him.
“Try to rest,” she said. “Your body has suffered a great shock.”
“You saved my life,” he said, finding his voice again.
“I could not have done it unless you were strong enough to help me fight the poison.” Her lips tightened. “I did not send that water to you. Someone gave you a substance meant to kill you.”
CHAPTER 15
Isis’s revelation could mean only one thing. “Anu,” Daniel said.
“He may not like you,” Isis said, “but I cannot believe he would attempt to murder a man who was proved innocent of any charges laid against him.”
“Any open charges.”
She placed her hand on Daniel’s forehead. He felt each of her fingers, the texture of her palm; saw the lingering fear in her eyes, the faint lines around her mouth. “I remember what you said,” she murmured. “But we do not know it was Anu.”
“I know he tried to control me in the box,” Daniel said. “He failed a second time. I’ve openly defied him more than once, and that makes him look bad in front of the Opiri and his peers.”
“He is very proud,” Isis said with obvious reluctance. “But is that enough?” She stroked the bedcovers with nervous hands. “Perhaps our fears were correct, and Hannibal convinced him that you are a spy for one of the Enclaves.” She pushed her long, glossy hair behind her ear. “There is another possibility, but it rests on theories I...still find difficult to accept.”
“The inequalities in Tanis.”
“If the situation is as bad as you surmise, Anu may suspect that you, as an outsider, see what others do not.”
“Or that I listen to what discontented humans say.”
“Anu may find it troubling that a newcomer with your skills proved to be so effective in influencing the mob at the Games,” she said. “Your qualities as a leader are obvious.”
“Which would suggest that he doesn’t really want to see any human influencing other humans in Tanis, even to keep them from rioting. He wants full mastery, for himself and his Opiri.”
“It is difficult—” Isis began. She drew a deep breath. “I am sorry, Daniel. I am not yet prepared... I cannot believe it. And even if these things were true, still he would not kill you. He would want to extract all your knowledge and experiences here in Tanis first.” Her fingers fluttered like butterfly wings. “If it was not Anu, who else? Hannibal?”
“He has a place here,” Daniel said. “He wouldn’t risk it just to kill the serf of a former ally.” He frowned. “Unless he is a spy for some Citadel, and thinks I know it.”
“How could you?”
“I only know that destroying Tanis and its ideals would suit him far better than reforming a lifetime’s habits and beliefs.”
Abruptly Isis sat up. “Daniel, I should speak to Anu again. It may be possible to learn more without directly questioning him.”
“You’ve become his enemy, Isis.” He touched her cheek with his fingertips. “Whether or not he meant to kill me, I know he sees you as biased in favor of humans. They listen to you. You threaten his mastery, whether you challenge him outwardly or not.”
She gazed at him, and all he could think of was the softness of her lips, the glory of her dark hair, the sleek curves of her body fitted against his. He remembered telling her that they had to remain apart if she were to prove her objectivity, remembered how he had thought that he could stop wanting her. He laughed softly.
“We will learn the truth, Daniel,” Isis said earnestly, misinterpreting his amusement. “The Festival begins in five hours. Even though you are too ill to attend, I—”
Throwing the sheets and blankets away from his legs, Daniel sat on the edge of the bed and did a mental survey of his body. It felt a little weak, and there was some lightheadedness, but he knew he wasn’t sick enough to stay behind.
“I’m completely able to attend the Festival,” he said.
“Daniel—”
“I should be asking if you’re all right,” he said, looking her over carefully. “Getting rid of the poison could have weakened you.”
“I am well.”
“Would taking my blood now help you?”
“You must fully recover before you can donate blood,” she said. She lifted her chin. “I have visited the depository.”
“Good,” Daniel said. “But if you’re even a little unsure...”
“You worry about me,” Isis said, “but spare no concern for yourself.”
“I know we’re likely to be separated at the Festival,” he said, holding her gaze. “You swear to me, Isis, that you’ll find me if you sense a threat from anyone, human or Opir. The seams of this city are starting to come undone.”
Isis frowned, and Daniel saw the storm of the goddess in her eyes. But her expression relaxed, and after a moment she laughed, too.
“You were a fool to come to Tanis,” she said, “and I became a fool when I learned to care about your fate. It seems we must be fools together.”
“Do you have a fool’s mask for me?” he asked.
“No,” she said, her eyes bright, “but I hope you will not find the one I chose for you unsuitable.”
* * *
The plaza was loud with shouts and laughter and music. Both human and Opiri bodies jostled and bumped each other with no regard for sex or species.
On the surface, the revels seemed rowdy but peaceful. Lawkeepers moved quietly among the citizens, but they didn’t seem to be expecting trouble. Daniel scanned the ever-shifting crowd but saw no signs of conflict, though the Games had ended only a few hours before.
Now it was night, the open sky a gem-spangled swath of deep blue silk. Daniel felt his mask again to make sure it was secure.
Isis had delivered a disguise as lovingly crafted as hers. She had chosen for him the face of another Egyptian god: Osiris, god of the dead and ruler of the underworld, a man with the green skin of growing things and a tall feathered crown. Daniel had learned enough of Egyptian mythology to understand the mask’s significance: according to legend, Osiris had been Isis’s husband and mate.
It seemed a strange choice, given that they had decided to return to the roles of guide and prospective citizen. But such a pretense seemed pointless after the events of the Games. That masquerade would be increasingly difficult, if not impossible, to maintain.
As they moved through the square a little distance apart, Isis in her lioness mask, Daniel noticed that wood stalls had been constructed around the square. Some were selling food grown in personal gardens, others small handcrafted items both functional and decorative. Someone had created something like a beer garden with lantern-draped canopies overhead, and one large, closed booth on a side street advertised itself in both the Opir language and English as a “blood exchange” location.
Daniel signaled to Isis. “Another depository?” he asked.
She leaned close. “There are several such booths at the Festival,” she said, “where humans and
Opir can make private transactions to give and take blood.”
“If it’s already legal in Tanis, why hide it in a side street?”
“I see that I never fully explained,” she said, her voice not quite its usual rich timber. “At the Festival, such transactions can be highly intimate. They sometimes involve other physical acts.”
“Sex,” Daniel said. “Is it the humans or Opiri who want to keep it so private during such a public event?”
“Often both,” Isis said. “Though every kind of nonharmful act is permitted during Festival, there are still some who do not wish others to know of their proclivities.”
“The perverse proclivities of humans and Opiri sharing more than blood?”
He couldn’t see Isis’s face, but he could almost feel her blush. “I have already told you that it is not unknown for Opiri and humans to bear children together in Tanis.”
“But it still isn’t common.”
“That is why the Festival aims to break down such barriers.”
Daniel would have liked nothing better than to break down a few barriers with Isis then and there, but he reminded himself that he had to keep a clear head in order to be an effective observer. He was still hoping for news of Ares as well as more signs of rebelliousness on the part of the humans and misbehavior by Opiri.
And if any others of the Nine put in an appearance, he might be able to talk to them. Any information he could gather now was valuable.
A burst of laughter caught his attention, and he noticed a number of anonymously robed and masked people gathered around a small band of human musicians: a drummer, a flautist, a guitar player, a fiddler and a pianist with a slightly battered instrument.
“A concert?” Daniel asked Isis.
“A dance, I believe,” she said.
“You disapprove?”
“Opiri do not dance,” she said. “It is a human pastime.”
“And that makes it beneath you?”
Her head swung toward him. “I have seen a thousand different dances over many centuries,” she said, “from the simplest to the most complex. I have never learned any of them.”
“Then maybe it’s time for you to try.”
“I would look ridiculous.”
“Nobody knows who you are. They won’t even know you’re Opir.”
“Daniel, do not be—”
The music began with a flourish of drum, flute and fiddle, quickly joined by the piano and guitar. Daniel immediately recognized a waltz.
“Come on,” he said, taking Isis’s hand.
She dragged her feet. “Do you know how to dance?” she demanded.
“I learned a few steps in Avalon,” he said. “This is a simple one. All you need to do is follow my lead.”
Obviously reluctant to draw attention to herself, Isis allowed Daniel to lead her onto the cleared area where the dancers had gathered. Daniel presumed that most if not all the dancers were human, but they came in all shapes and sizes, and he and Isis didn’t significantly stand out from the others.
Clasping Isis’s hand, Daniel showed her the few easy steps of the dance. Her natural Opiri grace overcame her uncertainty, and in moments they were moving in perfect accord, Isis’s hand on his shoulder and his at her waist. He lost himself in the supple movements of her body; the subtle scents that rose from her body beneath its flowing, high-waisted gown; the steady rhythm of her breathing. She looked up into his mask—the face of her ancient lover—and smiled.
The music moved faster, and he swept her into a flying step. It was almost like making love to her; their bodies became one in glorious motion—hearts speeding, pulses pounding. They spun around the circle of dancers, and it was only when the music stopped that Daniel realized they were the last couple on the floor. The watchers surrounding them began to applaud, and he quickly released Isis before she could pull away.
By the time he’d given the musicians a tip in thanks for their work, Isis was gone. He pushed his way through a line of people carrying narrow, sparkling torches and searched for her swirling robes and cat’s head.
When he found her, she was talking with a group wearing masks of animals, mythological figures and abstract designs. Daniel sensed at once that they were Opiri, though their bodies, hands and heads were completely covered. He hung back to listen.
“Perhaps I should learn to dance as humans do,” said a man wearing a tiger mask.
A woman with the beak and feathers of a raven laughed and tilted her head toward Isis. “Ah, Isis,” she said. “It was a shock to see you dancing with your Osiris.”
“Who is he?” tiger mask said.
“Can you not guess?” said a woman in a sun mask. “Have you not been keeping company with a particular human, Isis? I heard that at the Games—”
“I must go,” Isis said. She strode off while the Opiri stared after her. Daniel followed by an indirect route and caught up with her.
“I thought your plan was for us to remain anonymous,” he said when they were alone again. “They guessed who I was because of the mask I’m wearing.”
“It could not be helped,” Isis said, agitation in the nervous sweep of her hands as they adjusted her mask.
“You could have chosen another mask.”
She wrapped her arms around her chest. “I do not know what was in my mind when I selected it,” she said.
Daniel was half-afraid to imagine. His heart thought it knew the answer, but he stifled its voice.
“The old stories about you and Osiris are true, aren’t they?” he asked. “He was one of the most powerful Elders, like you. The two of you guided the people of Egypt when they were still learning the ways of civilization.”
“Yes.”
“Not many Opiri make lifetime partnerships. How long were you together?”
“Two millennia,” she said.
“You...loved him very much.”
She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “It was long ago. He died.”
Death did not come easily to Opiri, particularly the Bloodmasters, Bloodmistresses and Elders. Daniel could only imagine her grief.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I shouldn’t have asked you to dance with me.”
“That does not mean that everyone will recognize you.”
“Or you.” Daniel looked for the beer garden. “Still, the more quickly we move, the better. I need to find humans who were involved with or knew about the protest at the Games. A drinking establishment is a good place to start.” He gazed at Isis through the eyeholes of the mask. “I want you with me, Isis, if you think it’s worth the risk.”
“Humans are far less likely to know the old stories than Opiri.”
“Then just do your best to pretend you’re human. If we need to split up, we’ll meet by the food stalls in four hours.”
He turned toward the beer garden, but she grasped his loose black shirt and held him back.
“Why did you ask me to dance?” she asked.
“Because I knew it would be like holding a feather in my arms.”
“Once, my people believed,” Isis said, “I had wings.”
“You still do,” he said, touching her mask as gently as if it were her most tender skin. “Let’s go.”
* * *
Nearly every table in the beer garden was occupied, and the noise of many loud conversations hurt Isis’s ears.
She took comfort from Daniel’s nearness and his sure movements as he pushed his way through the tight clusters of humans. Alcohol flowed freely, and there was much laughter and jesting and the music of simple instruments.
If there were Opiri here, she thought, they were well hidden behind their masks, and she could not sense them. Daniel found a table with room for two more, and made a space for Isis between him and a tall, thin man wit
h the mask of a god she recognized: Apollo, deity of music and healing, a beautiful male with stylized sun rays springing from his curly hair.
“Osiris,” Daniel introduced himself, “and the Lady Sekhmet.”
A woman in a silver, almost featureless mask peered at Isis curiously. “Sekhmet was an Egyptian goddess like Isis, wasn’t she?”
“Surely not the same Isis as ours?” Apollo asked.
“I don’t know,” Isis said. “I just thought it was a pretty mask.”
“Isis is pretty, too,” a second man said in a slurred voice, his face half-covered with a mask of a bull’s head. “But I woul’n’t trust her no more than that lion thing if it came to life right now.”
“Are you afraid of Isis?” Isis asked with real surprise.
“Lundquist,” Apollo said. “You’re drunk.”
The bull swung his head toward Isis. “They say all the Nine c’n control people.”
“Who says this?” she asked.
With a sharp jerk of his broad shoulders, Lundquist shrugged. “I listen.”
“I’ve never seen Isis try to control anybody,” the woman said.
“How’d you know?” Lundquist said. “Everyone seems to love ’er, but issat because she makes ’em?”
“Where did you get that idea?” Apollo asked, so quickly that he nearly tripped over Lundquist’s final words. “I was here at the beginning, and she was always the one who spent the most time with us. I don’t care what she was or is. I trust her.”
Bull Mask snorted. “She sure got to them protesters at the Games.”
“It was that newcomer who quieted them down,” the woman said.
“The one they say Isis keeps as a lover?”
Daniel shot Isis a swift glance. “I’ve been hearing things, too,” he said, lowering his voice, “about an Opir gang attacking humans in Bes’s ward.”
“Some say there’ve been other attacks,” Lundquist said eagerly. “They keep it quiet. They won’t do anything about it.”
“The Council?” Daniel asked.
Lundquist ducked his head. “The Nine,” he said. “Are you stupid enough t’think the Council would do anything without the Nine backing ’em?”
Harlequin Nocturne May 2016 Box Set Page 15