Quest SMASH

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Quest SMASH Page 146

by Joseph Lallo


  'I - I don't buy it. I collect it myself, from - from -'

  'Oh? Is it local?'

  Llandry nodded. 'There is a cave, not far from - near to where I live. It's in the walls.'

  Lady Glostrum nodded thoughtfully. 'If I were you, I would keep the location quite a secret, Llandry. I think this will prove to be very valuable.' She opened the elegant reticule she wore on her wrist and withdrew a handful of coins. Handing them to Llandry, she turned to the admiration of her new ring, sliding it onto one of her long white fingers.

  'There. That is quite my favourite purchase of this moon's market.' She smiled at Llandry, then looked at Ynara.

  'Why don't you visit me sometime soon, Ynara? Bring your daughter. I'd love to visit you, of course, but the light of Glinnery would probably kill me.'

  Ynara chuckled. 'We'd love to visit, Eva. Soon, certainly.'

  Lady Glostrum nodded and left the stall, leaving a quick, gracious smile as she turned away. Llandry let out a long breath, feeling weak and drained.

  'That's enough, Ma. I can't bear any more.' She quickly packed away the few items that remained, ignoring the mutters of those still trying to shop. 'Who was that, exactly?'

  'Eva Glostrum. High Summoner in Glour. She's a friend, though I haven't seen her for a few years.'

  'I sometimes think you know everyone, Ma.'

  'I meet most of them through the Council.'

  'I suppose you would.'

  Chapter Four

  Images flickered across the bulletin board in the centre of Glour City, headlines repeating themselves on a rotating schedule. Eva Glostrum browsed through to the society pages, seeking her own name. She didn't have to search long: the story was the first to flash up onto the board.

  This Author has often remarked on the inability of any Gentleman to capture the lasting interest of the celebrated Lady Glostrum. The High Summoner's independent status is to come to an end at last, however, as it has just been confirmed that she is to wed Lord Vale on the eleventh of the Seventh Moon of the year! Lord Vale also revealed his intention to resign as Chief Investigator immediately after the wedding. Speculation is rife as to who will take over the coveted role...

  The article was accompanied by portraits of the couple. Eyde's was respectable enough, but Eva winced when she caught sight of hers. It was not particularly flattering. Her hair was a little disordered and shadows smudged the pale skin beneath her eyes. When had that image been taken? She hadn't noticed anybody with an image-capture in the last day or two. The bulletin team was getting very good. If only they had used an image from last night's ball, she would have been rather happier with the report.

  The article had a great deal more to say about the matter, not resisting a comment or two about Lady Glostrum's 'reputation' and the suitability of the match. Eva smiled to herself. Yes, it was a highly suitable match; she had made sure of that.

  'What an unusual picture.' Eva's friend Meesa Wrobsley stood at her shoulder, studying the board with the closest attention. 'Wherever did they get that?'

  Eva shrugged one slim shoulder carelessly. 'Probably somebody caught me on my way home the night before last. I was a little tired.'

  'More importantly, you were disordered. I'm sure there's at least one hair out of place in that picture. Maybe more.'

  Eva gave a mock shudder. 'I know. Unthinkable. I'll have to make up for this lapse somehow.'

  'Don't get too much more perfect, I beg you. An occasional lapse in you is comforting for the rest of us.'

  'Perfect? Nonsense. I just like things to be in their proper places, that's all.'

  'I know it well. That's why I'm surprised you let that pretty ring out of your sight. Its proper place was firmly on your finger, I thought.'

  Eva glanced down at her slender white hand, bare of jewellery. 'It had to be resized. It kept sliding off my finger.'

  'But you lost the ring anyway.'

  'How could I know that the jeweller would be robbed?' Eva turned and began to walk slowly back towards the carriage that awaited her nearby. The theft of her ring had disheartened her more than she was prepared to admit. More than that, it troubled her. She had left the ring with the jeweller overnight, and by the time the Night Cloak lifted at moonrise, the ring was gone. The jeweller, poor man, knew himself to be the obvious suspect, but the sight of his broken windows and disordered shop convinced Eva that he told the truth: someone had broken in during the darkest hours with the specific purpose of finding that one item. How had anybody known that it was there? The notion that someone had been watching her actions was disturbing.

  'Isn't she a friend of yours, the maker?'

  'Her mother is.'

  'Well, maybe you can get a new one made.'

  'I'm not sure I want one.'

  Meesa blinked at her, her mouth dropping open in surprise. 'Don't want an istore ring? Everyone wants an istore ring, including you. I hardly saw it off your finger until yesterday.'

  'Yes, but now it's an official trend I can't possibly have anything more to do with it.'

  Meesa rolled her eyes. 'True; nobody ever caught you following a trend.'

  'Setting them, maybe.'

  'Well, set a trend for something new then. I'm getting an istore piece of my own, and I don't want everyone to think I was just copying you.'

  'What? I didn't know you were even interested.'

  'Of course I am. It's far too beautiful to be ignored. Numinar ordered it for me. It's an anniversary gift.'

  Eva found herself with nothing to say. She felt a vague sense of foreboding that puzzled her. A few days ago she might have sincerely congratulated her friend on the acquisition of a prized piece, but now she was changing her mind. Barely a week had passed since the Sanfaers had turned up at the Darklands Market with their unusual bejewelled wares, but enthusiasm for the strange gem had circulated with astonishing speed. Everybody wanted an istore piece. A popular fashion paper had rushed through a special article about the jewellery and its enigmatic maker, doubling its readership virtually overnight. Eva had been interviewed three times in as many days for the society pages, finding herself the subject of some unusual interest for being among the first to acquire an istore item. With each new article she received a fresh storm of requests to borrow or offers of purchase. Demand had risen so high that the prices had swiftly doubled, then quadrupled as the Sanfaer girl fought to keep up.

  And now it seemed some had taken to theft in their pursuit of this new status symbol. In light of all of this, Eva could not feel entirely pleased about her friend's anniversary gift.

  'Just be careful with it, Meesa.'

  'No worries there. I shan't take it off my finger.'

  ***

  In the coach, Meesa sank back against the comfortably cushioned seats, smiling. She loved Eva's coach almost more than Eva did herself.

  'You know, I can hardly believe what's become of you.'

  Eva glanced round, surprised. 'What? You speak as though I've become some kind of delinquent.'

  Meesa grinned. 'Stopped being, more like. At school you were the rebel, always breaking the rules and pushing your luck. Now look at you. A model peer, a member of the government, and now you decide to get married. And just like that, you'll turn your favourite lover into your husband and become the perfect married woman. No doubt with a perfect brood of children on the way in due course.' Meesa wrinkled her nose. 'I can't decide if you're still the same Eva under all that perfect conformity.'

  Eva rolled her eyes. 'Wisdom comes with age, or something. I was stupid when I was at school. It took me some time to understand why the rules are there, that's all.'

  'And somehow, two decades later, this translates into a sudden urge to get married and reproduce.'

  'Oh, stop probing.'

  'Sorry, can't help it. I'm curious. I still can't believe you're actually going ahead with it.'

  Eva sighed. 'I was fifteen when I inherited my father's title. He sp
ent his whole life working towards it, and then he died within a year of being appointed to the peerage. And me? I was just throwing it all away.'

  'I thought you didn't even like your father.'

  'I didn't, but that's not the point.'

  It isn't?'

  'A peerage is more important than my personal feelings for my father. Anyway, I feel like maybe my mother would've been disappointed in me.'

  'You didn't even know your mother. I suppose this is your idea of explaining, but it isn't making any more sense.'

  Eva shrugged. 'I tried. It makes sense to me, anyway.'

  'Fine. I just hope you won't regret it. I'm pretty sure it isn't really... you.'

  Eva turned her head and stared out of the window. She wouldn't dream of admitting that she had doubts, but Meesa knew her well. These, however, were unproductive thoughts. Her decision was made, for clear, rational reasons, and she wouldn't be dissuaded from it now.

  ***

  Eva's coachman dropped Meesa off at the house she shared with her husband, and Eva rode the distance to her own house in solitary silence. Her thoughts wandered away from her own concerns and returned to the curious stone. She remembered Llandry's face, so like her mother's, completely guileless as she answered Eva's questions. It was hard to believe that such a thing merely lay in a cave in Glinnery, for anybody to stumble over, and yet nobody had; even now, it seemed that Llandry alone knew of its location. She knew that Llandry had been implored to give interviews; for days the papers had been printing hearsay about Llandry Sanfaer along with regretful statements about her lack of availability. She hoped the girl had the sense to keep her head down, but she feared for her. Something about Llandry had struck her as a little odd, even a little bit fey. She'd performed her role as if she viewed the market and her customers from a great distance, her mind elsewhere. Did she realise what had become of her presence at the Market? Any second appearance must be highly inadvisable. The girl would be mobbed.

  The coach was moving at a steady pace, just passing a mail station. Eva called for a halt and went inside, assuaging her unease by dispatching a note to Ynara. She watched the pale-winged bird fly away into the night, her note forming a neat ring around its leg. She remembered her own words to Llandry at the market: If I were you, I would keep the location quite a secret. I think this will prove to be very valuable. Apparently Llandry had followed her advice. Had she been right to suggest it? No doubt the profits were princely by now, but Llandry would not be left in sole possession of the gem for long.

  Eyde was waiting for her when she arrived home. He greeted her with delight, enfolding her in an embrace. She submitted to it for a few moments before pulling away, gently but firmly. She allowed him to kiss her, briefly, then busied herself pouring a drink for him.

  'Is the announcement up?'

  She blinked at him, confused. 'What?'

  'Of our engagement.'

  'Oh. Yes. It's all over the bulletin.'

  He nodded. 'The boys'll know about it by now, then.' The 'boys' were his team of investigators; almost all men, because the job could be a dangerous one. Women didn't often sign up. Eva had met very few of them, but those she encountered impressed her with their earnest manner and intensity of focus. On the other hand, they did tend to seem horrifyingly young. It made her feel old.

  She realised she hadn't answered him. She gave him a distracted smile as she donned a silk shawl, wrapping the fabric closely around herself. She curled up in her favourite chair, conscious of his eyes on her.

  'Any news on the robbery at the jewellers?'

  'I'm afraid not. I've got a couple of people working on it, though. We'll get your ring back.'

  'I'm not that worried about the ring, Eyde.'

  'No? You seemed very attached to it.'

  'I shouldn't have been. It's not healthy to be so fascinated by a stone.'

  He frowned at her quizzically. 'What's brought on this change of heart?'

  'Don't you think it's odd, how people are behaving over it?'

  He chuckled. 'No more so than any other trend. Remember when you wore that gown with one shoulder missing? I don't think any seamstress in Glour got a proper night's sleep for a whole moon afterwards.'

  She laughed. 'And that's hardly the only time it's happened. Perhaps you're right.'

  'Of course I am. What happened to that gown, by the way? I liked it.'

  'Oh, I have it somewhere.'

  'You should wear it again. Maybe at our wedding.'

  'That would be far too cruel. Those poor tailors need time to recover.'

  'Maybe a new gown, then, in a similar style. In blue. I like you in blue.'

  She tugged her shawl closer around herself with a sharp movement, feeling unaccountably irritable. 'It's too soon to be thinking about the wedding.'

  'It's barely a moon away. We ought to begin planning it soon.'

  'Only a moon? No, surely not.' She frowned, silently counting the days. He was right. A sigh escaped her at the prospect, and she avoided his eyes.

  'Eva, darling.'

  Obliged to look up, she arranged her features into a cool expression.

  'Are you quite sure about this?'

  'This?'

  'The wedding. Marrying me.'

  'You have asked me that already, Eyde.'

  'Yes, but still, you don't seem...' He floundered, groping for the right word.

  'I don't seem what? In love?'

  Her bluntness made him blink. 'I- yes. I suppose that's what I intended to say.'

  'We've discussed this.'

  He sat down opposite her, running a large hand through his close-cropped grey hair. 'Why did you ask me to marry you?'

  'I believe I explained that at the time.'

  'Tell me again.'

  'It makes sense. You are of a similar social standing; of a suitable age for me; we have known each other for long enough to have a comfortable friendship. A partnership between us is likely to be beneficial.'

  He looked at her sadly. 'Beneficial? Sense? Friendship? Eva. That cannot be all that you expect from a marriage.'

  'Why should anybody expect more?'

  'You've heard of love, I presume.'

  Her lips twisted. 'I've heard of it. I've also heard of a few other things that don't exist.'

  'Love doesn't exist?'

  'Not in the way people describe.'

  'If you believe that, why marry at all?'

  'It's time.'

  'I see. And these are your reasons for choosing me.'

  She sighed, growing impatient. 'Why wait until after the announcement to question me about this? It's going to be awkward to change your mind now.'

  'Oh, I've no intention of changing my mind. I've drawn the greatest prize in Glour, you realise.'

  'Only you wish it was different.'

  'No.' He paused, thinking. 'No. But I might hope you'll come to think differently in time.'

  She looked at the ceiling. 'If anyone can change my mind I daresay it will be you.'

  He didn't answer for a while. When she looked back at him, he gave her a tiny, tenuous smile. 'Maybe.'

  He stood up suddenly, breaking the tension. He smiled down at her. 'I ought to be going. Oh, how's my shortig coming along?'

  'Well. He's almost ready.'

  'I hope he's getting on well with that gwaystrel of yours. They might be working together someday.'

  'Rikbeek bites.'

  'Surely Rikbeek doesn't bite everyone.'

  'Everyone and everything. Your hound is not exempt from the biting, I'm afraid.'

  'Ah well. He's too small to do much damage.'

  Eva inspected her scarred hands. 'Not for lack of trying.'

  Vale chuckled. 'How long before the dog finishes training?'

  'Half a moon, maybe? Certainly no more.'

  He nodded, then swallowed, jangling his hands nervously in his pockets. 'Kiss me before I go.'

  She
grinned, amused. 'Don't say it as if I'll bite you for asking.' She rose, letting the shawl drop onto the chair. 'After all, we agreed on the merits of kissing a long time ago.'

  He eyed the expanse of shoulder and bosom revealed in the absence of the shawl. 'True, but a few things have changed since then.'

  She slid her arms around his neck, smiling. 'Some things haven't changed.'

  Eva felt the anxiety drain out of him under the kiss, replaced by a new kind of tension. He drew her close, stroking her bare shoulders. She grinned.

  'Do you really have to go this very moment?'

  'Not at this exact moment, perhaps, no.'

  Chapter Five

  The letterbox rattled loudly as letters began to tumble into Llandry's hallway. The sound was intrusive, a metallic clatter that frayed her nerves as she tried to work. She braced herself, knowing that the disturbance would take some time. She was receiving more and more mail every day, ever since the Market. Orders for jewellery came in so fast she couldn't fill them all. She hated having to raise prices - it made her feel greedy - but it was the only way to reduce the clamour. Even so, she was working at a ferocious speed day and night trying to keep up. The craze for her jewellery was completely astonishing, but she knew it wouldn't last.

  The letters that bothered her more were the solicitations from other jewellers, enquiring after her supply. She'd considered writing back with the full details, until she recalled Lady Glostrum's advice. Her mother's friend was perfectly right: a true businesswoman knew better than to give away the source of her success. She'd refused the requests - politely, of course - though more recently she'd taken to ignoring them. It seemed as though every jeweller in the Seven Realms was petitioning her for information.

  The letterbox shrieked again, loudly, as something large was forced through it. The sound shattered her concentration and she quickly placed down her tools before she could damage the ring she was working on. She padded through to her tiny hallway, Sigwide at her heels. If she answered the door she could accept all the mail in one go and silence that abominable racket. Stepping over the small mountain of paper on the floor, she unlocked the door and opened it.

 

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