Fiona went inside and retrieved a length of narrow black fabric from an ornamental vase on the mantelpiece. She then wrote out a hurried note and placed it inside a small metal canister.
“Here–” she thrust it at the bird as if to sniff. It’s not a dog, she reminded herself, and dangled the object before the bird’s eyes. The light bird fixed one of its eyes on the black band.
“I have to attach this to your leg,” she explained waggling the canister before the bird’s eye. “I promise I’m not going to put you in the cage again.”
Her tentative attempts to attach the canister were met with an irate squawk and beak action. “Ouch!” She jumped back. “I have to put it on, damn bird!” she muttered, sucking the back of her hand where the bird had drawn blood. “Look, I’m not going to put you in the cage. I promise,” she cooed.
“That’s right,” she nodded in encouragement, as the bird allowed her to get close enough to fiddle with its leg.
“Phew!” she let out a deep breath, having managed to attach the canister securely. She waved the piece of fabric before the bird again. “Go find its partner. Go!” She shouted.
Casting one last disgruntled look in her direction, the light bird swooped off the balcony and into the evening.
* * *
Evan Nightshade smiled to himself as he entered the stainless steel, mirrored elevator after leaving Sinclair’s apartment on the twenty-second floor. The smile had faded by the time he had reached the ground floor. The doorman in his black and red livery saluted him as he walked noiselessly across the sleek black granite floor of the leather-upholstered, walnut-paneled lobby.
Where is Fiona? Nightshade wondered, as he crossed Park Avenue. For the hundredth time today: Fiona, how do I reach you? The ship has long since sailed, taking that priest and his cohorts with them to this place behind the Light Veil. I thought Fiona would have managed to arrive with it this time…Where is she? he fretted, hailing a cab. It was too cold to walk. Doesn’t she know I can’t do this without her? We need to communicate, Fiona! That’s the only way it can work. Now, I have no way of knowing when that ship will cross the Veil again! If I knew, it may be possible to get some of our people into Pera… we could take over the ship and sail across the Veil. We know the coordinates…
“Penn Station,” he told the cabbie. It’s too risky, he decided, settling into the back seat of the cab. Even if we could manage to overpower the ship and get into Pera – then what? We would be an immediate target in Pera. From what Fiona has said, we couldn’t even slip in unseen because these people can communicate telepathically! No. That’s not a plan…
The plan – the only plan – is to formulate a way to cross the Veil on our own… Roddy, it’s up to you… And I can get you the money you need. He dialed a number on his cell phone.
“Hello, Roddy? Yes, it’s me, Evan. Yes… yes, I’m on my way to the station now. Should be there in less than two hours. See you then? Good. Good. Yes. See you.”
Nightshade replaced the cell phone in his jacket pocket.
Soon…he thought impatiently. But Fiona, you really need to start pulling your weight!
* * *
The Elder-in-Waiting was standing on the Dark Rock. He was waiting for the inevitable summons that must come from Stone Island. It was past midnight, and it seemed a lifetime ago that Cypress had been taken by the Hunter. He was surprised that he was still permitted to wait unmolested on the Island of Birds. Surprised, perhaps, but not afraid, not apprehensive. At least, not for himself. Kaya had his instructions: he must assume the mantle of Twilight’s Hand in the event he himself could no longer – for any number of reasons which he had refused to explain – perform these functions. Kaya was a good, dutiful son, and in due course, might indeed become Elder-in-Waiting. There was no reason to jeopardize Kaya’s future for his transgression, which he would explain at length to the Elder. When the summons came.
* * *
In the privacy of her boudoir, upon the second floor of LiGa headquarters, Cat twirled before the full-length mirror in its silvery frame adorned with moonstones in the form of raindrops. “It will do,” she said approvingly. The backless dress of black silk was brushed with plumes of Moonlightsmear like a dusting of sparkling powdered sugar. “I am a black beignet!” Cat laughed as the floor length skirt twisted about her legs as she turned, wrapping her in a whispering cocoon of light. It had not been an easy choice. Her earlier misgivings had been entirely unfounded as revealed by the contents of the dressing room with mother-of-pearl paneled doors. She had tried on seven dresses – which, she must admit, all fitted perfectly – before settling on the one she now wore. It was really the back that had clinched it. The others – in a myriad colors – had been beautiful without a doubt, but Cat liked the idea of showing off her newly-acquired tan…
A long string of pearls dangled down her bronzed back, and the diamond alligator brooch with the tiny sapphire eyes rested upon her right shoulder.
Cat gazed happily about her. Her private quarters consisted of three spacious rooms: the bedroom in which she currently found herself, a study and a living room which could easily accommodate a dinner party for thirty. This is practically a palace! she thought walking barefoot to the French windows. She flung open the twin doors and stepped out on to the freezing balcony. She did not mind the breath of winter that stung her bare feet tiptoeing on the marble floor. She grasped the sinuous waves of the iron railing and leaned over to gaze into the inky waters of the Ortasu. Raising her head, she looked instead into the blue-black of the sky.
“Orion–” she whispered and blew a kiss. The constellation was fully visible in the clear sky. The Hunter among his kin. Cat sighed, full of contentment and rested in the crook of an outstretched leaf-like protuberance of the balcony railing.
* * *
Orion was greeted with easy familiarity by several officers at the police station. He waved and made his way without hesitation to an office against the back wall. He knocked loudly.
“Come in,” said the Rooster looking up from his desk impatiently. “Ah, Orion!” His taciturn features dissolved into an amiable smile.
“Rooster! It’s good to be back…” Orion sat down in an empty chair. Leaning back, he surveyed the office critically. “Yes,” he nodded with satisfaction, “it is good to be back.”
“Shady told me you were on your way. Want anything to drink? Whiskey?” Without waiting for a reply, the chief of police reached down and unlocked the last drawer, out of which he brought a bottle half-full of an amber liquid. He poured a generous measure into two glasses and passed one to Orion.
“Cheers.”
“To Pera,” Orion smiled as he downed his drink.
“I heard you ran into a spot of trouble with the pirates on your way here...” The Rooster smiled slyly.
“Huh! It was no trouble,” Orion waved dismissively. “But I will find out who was behind it of course,” he added with lazy menace.
The Rooster methodically arranged three pens in a row. “Do you have any ideas?”
Orion shook his head disconsolately. “Patron didn’t want me to – well, to be honest, she didn’t want me to question Teodor. It’s a shame. His crew is unlikely to be as knowledgeable.”
The Rooster eyed the other man narrowly. This was not strictly Orion’s jurisdiction. “I sent people to question Teodor’s crew as soon as I got word of what had happened – before you arrived.”
“And?” Orion looked at him expectantly.
One had to tread with care. “They are all still being questioned,” the Rooster said stolidly, making an effort to keep his mind free of errant thoughts.
“All?” Orion asked intently.
“All.” The Rooster nodded decisively.
“I could do it a lot more quickly,” Orion volunteered, smiling helpfully.
“We can’t always be relying on you,” the Rooster countered. “Besides, you probably have too much to do with trying to find the immortals’ killer– or killers.�
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“Whoever it was, was apparently trying to put me out of commission,” Orion pointed out pleasantly. “I’m an immortal, aren’t I? Besides, there were three other Immortals on the ship with me. If the Flying Fish had been damaged, they might have…who knows?”
The Rooster returned the same pleasant smile.
“Just the first mate,” Orion said.
The Rooster regarded him for some moments. “All right,” he said, coming to a decision. His index finger traced an indeterminate pattern upon the desk. “He’s at the fights tonight.”
“Why did you release him?”
“We let him go after Evening Song. Thought he might give us a lead. We’ve been tailing him.”
“To the fights?”
“Well no… not exactly, but we have reliable information that he is definitely going there tonight. It’s a big night at the fights tonight. You wouldn’t know, of course, as you’ve been away. It’s the championship.”
“Good. I enjoy the fights. What did he say? Anything? I mean before you let him go?”
“Said he didn’t know who Teodor dealt with, that the crew had no part in the contract.” The Rooster looked past Orion. “My officers could not sense anything else from him.”
“Well…” Orion let the unsaid suggestion hang in the air that, perhaps had he been asked to conduct the questioning, there might have been more to sense. “Make sure they don’t lose him before I get there,” he added.
“He won’t go anywhere,” the Rooster promised.
“And now, there’s the other matter–” Orion began and paused, leaning forward. “Carl, Dragan and Philipa… in such a short time…and as far as I can make out, an attempt on Shady too?”
“Yes. We got the results of Shady’s poisoning attempt this morning.”
“Curious, isn’t it?” Orion began, apparently to the room at large. “Philippa, Carl, Shady…” He counted on his fingers. “Only Dragan fell victim to the sea… Are we sure about that?”
The Rooster shook his head. “At the time there was nothing to indicate it was anything other than an accident,” he said slowly, without a hint of defensiveness.
“You think otherwise now?”
The Rooster looked into the middle distance. “What do I think? I don’t know. What if Dragan was an accident and the others’ deaths were intentional? I don’t know.
“We didn’t test Dragan’s body for lightberry poisoning, I admit...”
“Or any other substance?”
“Nothing.” The Rooster shook his head. “I mean no such tests were done. He had drowned.”
“What about Shady’s would-be-poisoner?”
“Do you want to see him? He’s here. In lockup. Found him this afternoon.”
“Who is he? What can you tell me about him?”
“Talk to him yourself. There’s not much to tell.”
“I will. By the way, I want you to find out everything you can about a particular islander–” Orion gave a description of Carl’s former assistant. “He might have important information relating to Carl.”
“What sort of information?”
“I need to find him as quickly as possible. It’s important,” Orion added.
“Yes, but why?”
Orion appeared to consider the question. “I can’t tell you right now, because it might be nothing. It might be a false alarm.”
The police chief eyed him narrowly. “I think you need to tell me,” he said quietly. “I am the chief of police.”
“You’re right,” Orion conceded, and proceeded to outline the communication he had had with Selcan.
The Rooster sat back in his chair. “I hope it’s a false alarm,” he said finally. “But we have to find him. I’ll take care of it. You go and talk to our prisoner.”
Orion nodded. “Thank you. I’ll be in touch.”
I know, the Rooster thought.
* * *
“Are you going to wear that, darling?” Cat gave Father Griffith an appraising look.
“What would you have me wear?” Father Griffith asked, disconcerted. He looked down at his customary black cassock. “I am a priest,” he added, a touch defensively.
“Well, wear it if you must,” Cat said lightly. “It suits you darling,” she continued, giving the priest’s arm an affectionate squeeze. “Ah, Bruce…” She smiled admiringly up at Bruce descending the curving staircase to meet them in the entrance hall.
“Cat, you are a vision of loveliness.” Bruce leaned forward to kiss her hand.
“Thank you, darling! You’re not so bad yourself, I must say–” she beamed. “And dear Roland is resplendent in clerical black…as always,” she said with a mischievous smile.
“You all look fine,” Shady said, approaching the trio. He, like Bruce, was dressed in full evening dress. They were met at the entrance by one of LiGa’s black and gold liveried carts. It was in the form of a horse-drawn carriage this evening, complete with chauffeur who helped Cat into the carriage.
“How lovely,” Cat sighed, settling back into the black leather seat.
They rode along the cobbled Avenue of the Oaks. The oak trees lining the avenue were festooned with variously sized glass orbs coated with Moonlightsmear.
“It’s like driving under the Milky Way,” Cat said quietly, leaning out of the window.
“It’s only like that during the winter when the trees are bare,” Shady explained. “The lights are removed when the leaves start appearing – as we say, when the trees start ‘dressing’.” he laughed lightly.
“How is the street lit up during the times when, well, as you call it, the trees are ‘dressed’? At night, I mean–” Bruce asked.
“We have mobile street lights,” Shady answered. “We – the neighborhood – keep them in storage when they are not needed. Some of the buildings on the avenue, including LiGa headquarters, also attach light fixtures to the façade. We don’t use them during the dormant season – winter for you – so as not to compete with the tree lights. They are quite beautiful, aren’t they?” he smiled.
“Oh yes…” Father Griffith said, gazing out of the window at the cold, bluish lights overhead. “Ah!” he cried, pointing excitedly. “Isn’t that a light bird?”
Shady, sitting between Cat and Father Griffith, leaned over the priest to peer out of the window. “Yes, of course,” Shady said. “I thought it might be Dominic, but it isn’t.” He shook his head. “The light birds are everywhere,” he continued. “They fly at night too. Sometimes they hunt for fish at night, you see.”
“Dominic?” Cat asked. “Who, pray is Dominic?”
“Dominic is a blind policeman!” Shady replied. “He happens to be one who can fly. It’s rather useful as a matter of fact.” He glanced sideways at Cat, who laughed loudly.
“He would be,” she nodded enthusiastically. “Can we meet him?”
“He might be on duty tonight,” Shady smiled slyly. “I suspect we’ll run into the blinders sometime during the evening, perhaps Dom will be with them.”
* * *
“I don’t believe for one minute that you wanted to murder Professor Shady,” Orion declared earnestly to the man huddled in the corner of the cell. He was a thin creature, with a head of sparse light brown hair and small, pale blue eyes that darted with terror.
“No… never…” the man muttered indistinctly, picking nervously at the sleeve of his worn, navy jacket.
“Because if you had…” Orion continued, shaking his head.
“No, no!” the man cried. “I didn’t mean to kill him! I swear, I swear in the name of the Sun and, and may the Dark One strike me dead!” He scrambled clumsily from his perch to kneel imploringly before Orion.
“But you brought him the poison,” Orion pointed out.
“I did,” the man nodded miserably. “But I didn’t know the jam was poisoned,” he wailed. “I just – just brought the jam. That’s what I do. I – I’m the janitor for the building, sir, Orion, sir. That’s what I do – I bring them
, the residents, sir. I bring them what they ask for–”
“Did Shady ask you for a jar of jam poisoned with lightberry? That’s a rather unusual request…” Orion’s voice trailed off menacingly.
“No, no, no, no, NO!” cried the man. “Orion, sir, I would never knowingly bring poison. But how was I to know?” he burbled piteously. “I couldn’t know it was p-poisoned. I– all I did was to bring what was for the Professor, sir. It’s the Professor, sir–” he said, and his voice held a sense of deep loss, of bewilderment. “Who would want to harm him? Who?” He shook his head and rose unsteadily to his feet. “But not me, Orion, sir. Never me. You know … I know you know, sir. You can see into my heart–” he tapped his chest. “I know you can, and you know I know. This is a terrible, terrible thing, sir, and it wasn’t me that wanted to harm Professor Shady, and I’m glad, more than I can say – but I don’t need to say, because you know it’s in my heart, Orion, sir…” the man mumbled, looking down at his feet. “Catch whoever meant to poison the Professor, sir. Please–”
“Yes, I do see, but not very clearly,” Orion sighed. “Unfortunately you seem rather confused in your mind. Now, I want you to tell me – as clearly as you can – everything you know...”
34
Alone on a lonely path, I am called Jaluban.
I am the Nameless One. The Messenger.
Does it not say in the Book of Shadow that the Messenger’s road may be solitary and uncertain? But it says also that Jaluban shall find strength in his solitude. And does it not say that Jaluban shall don his anonymity as armor?
He pulled the collars of his jacket up and cowered in the back of the cart. No one can see me, he told himself. Calm down. You are getting away… away from Pera. It was best to go east, he had decided because to the west lay only more of Pera, and the islands. The first place they would look would probably be the islands. There was no safety in the west. I will go east into our ancestral lands, he thought. I will be harder to track if I can get across the Red River…
The cart sped along cobbled back streets.... Didn’t it say in the Book of Shadow that a memory is nothing but a haunted lie?
the Dark shall do what Light cannot (LiGa Book 2) Page 33