“What can I help you with,” Reeve asked, looking down his long, pointed nose.
“I’m here to see Merek,” Aeryn said.
“Lord Merek is busy entertaining guests and is not to be disturbed. Especially by the likes of you.” He started to close the door, turning away as he did.
“I have something of his,” Aeryn said quickly. The door stopped an inch shy of clicking shut. She pulled out the purse and gave the man a glance at its contents.
Reeve stuck out his hand. “Give it to me and I’ll deliver it to him.”
“No.” Aeryn pulled it back out of reach. “I will only give it to Lord Merek himself.”
The door inched wider. “Girl, if it’s a ransom you’re after, give it to me and I’ll reward you.” He reached into his pocket and produced a pair of silver coins. Aeryn almost took the coins and ran. They could feed her for a week. But no, she had more in mind than a pair of silver. Much more.
“You know on second thought,” Aeryn said, pretending to study the purse, “I’ll just wait until I run into him next.” She knew the odds just as well as the chamberlain did of her happening into a Lord on the streets. “I’m sure he won’t mind if I hold onto it for a while longer.” She turned on her heels, stuffed the purse back into her belt, and started away.
“Wait.” Reeve swung the door all the way open. “I’ll see if he can spare a minute. Follow me. And don’t touch anything,” he said over his shoulder as he strode away, obviously expecting her to follow.
Tight lipped, Reeve led Aeryn through the house, down one broad corridor to another, passing familiar offshoots she recognized from a few nights before. He stopped before a pair of heavy, dark-stained oak doors gilded in fanciful spiraling designs. A chorus of a half-dozen conversations all going on at once wafted out.
“Stay put,” he commanded and pushed in.
“Fat bloody chance,” Aeryn muttered to herself and kept on his heels. She missed a step at seeing the interior. All porcelain and silver, inlaid with veins of gold, the dining hall was the exact place she wished she had found the other day. She never would have had to go hunting for jewels and gems if she had; Will would have settled for a chipping of the wall. Heck, if she could have carried one of the three pace by five tapestries that lined the wall, they would have been set for half a lifetime.
Clad in folds of embroidered silk, Merek’s gaze rose at the intrusion and locked onto Aeryn even before the chamberlain reached him. His fist clenched around a knife hovering above a plate set with fat slices of steak and potatoes, beans, corn and freshly baked bread.
Aeryn felt her spine tingle as the din of conversation stopped. All heads turned towards her with hushed murmurs. For the first time in her life, she was acutely conscious of not having bathed in a month and that her ratty hair and saggy clothes made her look more like a boy than a girl.
Reeve bent down and whispered into Merek’s ear, casting a pursed-eyed glance over his shoulder.
“If you’ll pardon me for a minute, I have a matter I must attend too,” Merek said, strain evident in his voice as he rose. The knife had disappeared from his fist without reappearing next to the plate.
“But of course, Merek. You mustn’t let us keep you from seeing to your guests,” said a regally dressed woman at the far end of the table. It was amazing she did not need two chairs to support her girth. A round of muted giggles sounded about the table.
Merek waved his hand as though the comment was of no import. “Unlike some, Lady Mareen,” he eyed the woman, “I give each of my guests attention as though they bore news worthy of the Voices themselves.”
If Aeryn had not been studying Lady Mareen intently, wondering how someone could grow so large, she would have never noticed the Lady’s eyes take on a hard glint. As soon as she noticed it it was gone, replaced by one of mirth.
“You must excuse Lord Merek,” Lady Mareen said, addressing those about the table, “men sometimes forget lust is a vice the Voices do not dabble in. Especially in such,” she cleared her throat, “unique flavors.”
A full-fledged gale of laughter shook the table. Merek hardly seemed to notice and strode out. Reeve and Aeryn followed.
“Leave us,” Merek said when they had come to a stop in a study the size of Ty’s workshop.
“But, my lord, I really think that—“
“Now.” Reeve scurried out at the solid tone. Merek did not speak again until the door clicked shut behind the chamberlain. He rounded on Aeryn, looking like a storm cloud ready to burst. “What are you doing here? I let you live. Don’t make me regret it.”
Digging into her purse, Aeryn tossed over the delicately linked silver necklace that would surely be lost in the folds of Lady Mareen’s excessive skin and fat. “I came to return this.”
Merek caught it with a surprisingly deft hand. He frowned at it for a moment before he stuffed it into his silken coat pocket. “What,” he said, squaring up his shoulders, wrist turning just enough to conceal what his right hand was doing, “are you really doing here?”
So much for currying his favor. “You’re going to tell me what happened the other night,” she said. She went on boldly. If she was going to blackmail a Lord, she might as well aim for the stars. “Everything from why you wanted your knife back so badly, especially when you could have one made from solid gold without batting an eye, to why you were willing to kill a Shade for it. If,” she raised an eyebrow, “he was indeed a Shade. Then you’re going to teach me how to do whatever it was you two did to fade into the darkness and become invisible.”
Merek’s eyes widened with each word. At the end they resembled cups and saucers with but a spot of tea remaining at their centers. “Why would I bloody to do that? If I kill you here,” the missing dinnerware flashed into his fist and he took a step forward, “I’ll never have to think about you again.”
Aeryn gulped down her instincts to run and did her best not to shy away. She never had been one for confrontation; her slight size did not exactly tip the odds in her favor. But things had spiraled too far out of control to run and hide. She had to act. This was one of the reasons she had gone to visit Ty. Still, she would have felt better had she not lost her knife the night the Merek and the Shade had visited.
“If I don’t return by nightfall,” she said with all the confidence she could muster, “word of what happened—more specifically, word of your part in what happened—will reach the Shades and Voices.”
“And if I make you talk?” Merek asked twirled the knife in his palm as he advanced another step. “You wouldn’t last five minutes before giving up your confidants. Not to mention they are just rumors.” He surveyed her from head to toe. “And hardly from a credible source.”
She cocked her head to the side just enough to glance at the window and the lengthening shadows. “I think I can last until nightfall.” She prayed he did not call her bluff or notice the fear welling in her belly and weakening her knees. She turned to Merek. “Besides, rumors,” she put exactly the same inflection on the word as he had done a moment ago, “spread and grow like wildfire. From what I saw, even a Lord such as yourself is not beyond suspicion. I wonder how long it will take to spread from the lowest street urchins all the way to the Shades and Voices? Or perhaps even to Nameless? Long enough for you to pay off every wagging tongue? Long enough to pack your house and flee?”
Merek stopped in his tracks. “Why are you so interested in what happened? Is it because the Shade killed your friends? Or because your pet draven was injured? Or maybe because you want to be the best little thief in all of Maerilin?”
“The only way to stay alive is to keep moving forward,” Aeryn said with a shrug. “The minute you stop and look back, you might as well start digging your own grave.”
Appraising her intently with an ever-growing quirk in his cheeks that bordered on respect—well, perhaps not respect so much as deciding that, for the moment, she was not worth killing—the knife disappeared up Merek’s sleeve. “Come back in one week.”<
br />
Aeryn opened her mouth to protest. He was a bloody fool if he thought she would give him a week to silence her.
“One week, girl,” he repeated forcefully. “I’ve a number of items that need my immediate attention after all the commotion you and your friend caused. Reeve!”
The door snapped open in an instant. The chamberlain scurried in, rigid as a post. “Yes, my lord?”
“See her out,” Merek said with a nod to Aeryn.
Reeve bustled her along. “Come along now. Lord Merek has important duties to attend to. He can’t waste any more time on you.”
“Oh, and girl?” Merek called.
Pausing next to a perturbed chamberlain, Aeryn looked over her shoulder. “Aeryn,” she said. “My name is Aeryn.”
Merek ignored the remark. Instead, he tossed the silver necklace through the air. Aeryn caught it easily. “You can probably put that to better use,” he said, not knowing that Aeryn had already tried. “I’d suggest new clothes. Yours are decidedly unsightly.”
Following the chamberlain, through the corridors, Aeryn went over everything that had just happened. She reached two conclusions by the time Reeve pushed her out onto the street. First, she would not be returning to her rundown shack. Not once. She would not give the Lord a chance to ambush and kill her that easily. Second, she would return to his house. But not in a week. Not even close. She had to keep him off balance or he would no doubt find a way to wiggle around her blackmail. She could not let that happen. At least, not before she had a decided edge over the Lord.
4
Drifting
Aeryn petted Jynx, who yawned, tongue rolling out as his lips pulled back to reveal gleaming white fangs, and curled up, head resting on his paws.
“I’ll be back before you leave,” she said and rose from the dead end alley, which despite the rising sun, was still—and would remain—cloaked in shadows. “If I’m not. . .”
Well, that was something she did not want to think about. At least Jynx would be safe. She had very nearly punched Rickon upon seeing the watery gleam in eyes when she had returned for Jynx, releasing him from his agony of draven sitting so he could go prostrate himself before the Voices.
Over the past five days, she had moved from one darkened crevice to another, never sleeping in the same spot twice. Shy of returning to her ruined shack, something she would not do, or going to Will’s, something she could not do, she had little recourse but to sleep in the gutters, refuse piles, and in the cracks of caved-in buildings. Unfortunately, other street urchins had occupied all the good spots. Not that “good” applied to sleeping on the streets. It was a relative term. Staying somewhat dry was better than rain and fog soaking her to the bone; curling up on dirt and sand was better than lying in refuse and wastewater thrown into the gutters; and sleeping beside a chattering rat warren was better than next to a cold, stiff body.
Jynx had enjoyed it every bit as much as Aeryn had. That was to say the draven had been conspicuously absent most of the time, prowling the streets, hunting for a meal, returning only to check up on Aeryn and sleep at her side.
In other words, Aeryn and Jynx were doing all the things Merek had never given a second thought to in his life. Who ever heard of a Lord without a bed, going hungry, or getting dirty? The worst part of all this was that Merek did not even have to hunt Aeryn down if he decided to kill her and take his chances with Ty putting out word of his involvement in the Shade’s death. If she wanted to make good her blackmail, she would have to deliver herself right to his doorstep. Hopefully arriving a few days early at high noon and being seen by everyone from commoners and guards to servants and bitter chamberlains would throw Merek off balance.
It was a chance she had to take. Nobody paid much heed to a dead street urchin during the day and none at all during the night. Except to glare at the obstacle in their path, of course. It was as though stepping aside was more of an inconvenience to the merchant, Lady, or Lord, than dying was to the street urchin. The real problem was that nobody even knew when a street urchin died at night in a conveniently out of the way spot.
The guards at the Lord’s Gate gave Aeryn more trouble than last time, but eventually let her through, dirty and ragged as she was. With only the coin she had scrounged up in refuse piles to her name, she was not about to spend it on new clothing like Merek had suggested. Not that she would have followed his orders even if she had a wheelbarrow full of gold at her feet. In any event, it was not as if she was trying to get through God’s Gate, which only Voices and Nameless himself could pass. Or even Protector’s Gate, which also allowed Shades and a few highly trusted servants through.
A rap at the estate door brought the crusty chamberlain. Reeve made a point to wrinkle his nose and purse his lips at Aeryn’s clothing. He sighed audibly and pulled back just far enough for her to squeeze in. “You’re early,” he said. “Lord Merek is not expecting you for two more days.”
“Yeah, well, if he thinks I am going to let him dictate—”
“Wait here,” Reeve said, cutting her off as he ushered her into a windowed room. Set with plush chairs about two circular tables, the sitting room was more ornate than all but a small handful of great rooms she had glimpsed while filching for Will.
“I’m not going to just sit around and wait for him—“
“You will do as you are told if you want to see him. Lord Merek is currently indisposed. I will inform him that you have arrived.” He crunched up his face. “Early, and without so much as a single respectful thought to your appearance.”
“But—“
“You are not to touch anything,” Reeve said over his shoulder as he walked away. “I don’t want to throw out anything more than absolutely necessary.”
Aeryn opened her mouth. The door shut in her face, leaving her alone surrounded by everything from gilded candelabras, enameled vases, and silken screens. Gah! It was bloody infuriating the way he had just cut her off; as if her words were so far beneath him it was an insult to hear them. Just for that, she made it a point to touch everything in the bloody room; greasy, dirty fingerprints be damned.
When finally finished, Aeryn sunk into one of the high backed chairs. How could she have been so stupid? Of course a Lord would not see her unannounced and without plenty of time to prepare himself. It was not as if she was visiting a street urchin, after all.
Briefly, she thought about barging into the halls and finding the Lord, or barring that, finding Reeve and this time not letting the chamberlain overrule her. Only, the cushions beneath and behind her beckoned her to stay and relax. They were quite comfortable. Smooth silk and stuffed with what had to be puffy clouds, her eyes began to sag.
Perhaps a quick nap would be in order. She had no idea how long Reeve would be gone. She was tired too; she had hardly gotten any sleep out on the streets over the past days. Besides, it would be better retribution than childishly touching everything in sight. Just imagining the look on Reeve’s face when he came to get her and she was sleeping made her close her eyes the rest of the way.
“Girl!”
Aeryn opened her eyes, refreshed, yet still a bit groggy as though hung over from drinking too much.
“Never mind, Melanie,” Reeve said to a woman behind him. “The rat is alive after all.”
Melanie frowned. Surprisingly, she directed it at Reeve, not at Aeryn. She began to move off. Aeryn thought she caught Melanie direct a concerned glace her way just as Reeve’s head swiveled.
“Lord Merek will see you now.”
Aeryn rose, taking stock of the shadows falling across the floor. She must have been asleep for a couple hours. The sun was still high in the sky, but it would be beginning its descent soon.
“I have no idea what Lord Merek sees in you, but you will be more considerate of him,” Reeve said, tisking as he lead her upstairs. “Allowing a rat like you into his house and you repay him by disregarding him and looking like—“
“Like a rat?” Aeryn finished for the chamberlain, throwi
ng his own words back at him, smirking widely at cutting him off for once.
Reeve gave her a glare to wilt the hardiest flower. “The first night you came here was enough to spawn a dozen vile rumors about Lord Merek bedding—“ Reeve cleared his throat loudly. “Then you show up like this? Lady Mareen will jump on it and not let go for months.”
“I don’t give a bloody rat’s ass what Lady Mareen thinks.”
Halfway down an all too-familiar hallway, Reeve stopped just beyond the hidden alcove. “You should.” He opened the door to the bedroom. “You filthy street rats are all the same. Scampering around without a care in the world, never stopping to think of anyone but yourself.”
Aeryn’s jaw unhinged. Not a care in the world? When she was not figuring out where to get food, water, or a roof over her head, she was trying to steer clear of over-zealous soldiers and merchant guards, diseased rats, and strong arms and thugs who thought to have their way with her. That did not even begin to consider scrounging up enough coin to tithe to the Shades and Voices for protection against Shadows, or pay for any of the aforementioned items. Pushed unceremoniously through the door, it slammed at her back before she could respond.
She pulled herself together, all the while wishing she had spent the few days searching for a knife rather than a place to sleep. Before her sat the high-canopied of Lord Merek, the bedroom with the attached and cleverly hidden alcove she had been in nearly a week ago. The chamberlain could not mean. . .
Aeryn’s cheeks flashed red. She pivoted on her heels, intent on marching out, finding Lord Merek, and giving him a piece of her mind. She did not know what his game was; only that she would not be toyed with.
An inch wide crack leading to the alcove caught her eye. She froze. If Merek was not going to teach her as he promised, never mind that she had blackmailed him to do so, he could at least replace her lost knife.
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