Babylon Steel (19 page)

“Have you spoken to them about the girl?” Fain said.

“One did say her eyes were unusual, if that means anything. He didn’t know anything else about her.”

“You believed him?”

“Yes.” I’d believe him on most things. We’ve spent more than a little time between the sheets, Kittack and me, and that’s one place I’m far less likely to be deceived in someone than anywhere else. Nowadays, at least. It wasn’t always the case. But now, though people can, and do, hide their true selves in bed, they have to work quite hard to hide from me.

Of course, if I bedded Fain, I’d have a better idea of whether I could trust him. I wished I hadn’t had that thought, because I
really
needed to concentrate, and it was getting more difficult by the minute.

“Hmm.”

“What is it?” I watched his throat move as he considered, the skin glowing in the soft light.

“The Ikinchli might see kidnapping one of the ruling nobles as a form of leverage.”

“Then why hasn’t there been a ransom demand? Besides,” I said, “I doubt they’d risk it. You know the stories?”

“Stories?”

“About maidens sacrificed to the Old. If a girl disappears the Ikinchli are in danger of being blamed for it, even though sacrifice is no part of their worship and never has been. They’d be unlikely to do anything so silly; too much trouble for everyone back home.”

He leaned forward, eyes gleaming. “Now, that is interesting. No, I didn’t know. You do have a way of getting people to tell you things, don’t you?”

“It wasn’t pillow talk, if that’s what you mean. Not that there hasn’t been that, too.”

“I simply meant you have a capacity for making friends.”

“You need them in this life, Mr Fain.”

“Indeed.”

“My Ikinchli friend said maybe Enthemmerlee was nicer than most Gudain. Admittedly he’s prejudiced, but one can hardly blame him.”

“There are those among the Gudain,” he said, “who are not happy with things as they are, but it is difficult to take a stand, when the culture states that it is not only their right, but positively their duty, to regard themselves as superior.”

“Hmm. Maybe.”

I got up, partly because his closeness was beginning to make it difficult to think. He looked up as I moved, and
something
crossed his face: satisfaction?

It made me suspicious, although I still wanted to stroke him. There was so much more going on here than I knew about. “Look, Darask. I plan to keep looking for her” – I only just stopped myself from saying, ‘whether you pay me or not’ – “but I’d be a lot happier if you’d tell me why you’re so interested.”

He gave me a long, considering look. “I told you, I have business dealings with Incandress.”

“What sort of business?”

“You’re very protective of someone you haven’t even met.”

“Someone has to be. She reminds me...” There was something I didn’t want to say. But did it matter? My blood was tingling in my veins and I was losing the thread. I didn’t realise I’d leaned forward, until I overbalanced and almost landed in Fain’s lap.

I could smell something underneath that clean woodsy smell; something heavy and musky.

I gritted my teeth, and with a fairly massive amount of effort, stood upright and moved away. “All right, Fain. I’m leaving. You can have your money back tomorrow.”

He stood up. “Babylon, I...”

“Enough. I know that I’m not just reacting to you, attractive as you are, Mr Fain. There is something else going on here, and I don’t appreciate people trying to manipulate me.” I’ve had someone try a love potion on me before; when I realised what was going on (thanks to a timely intervention from a local herbwoman who owed me a favour), I broke several bits of the perpetrator. Some of them twice. I don’t care how you do it – getting someone into bed without their conscious consent is rape, plain and simple.

Surprisingly, Fain grinned. And even now I knew that he was working something, it was a devastating grin. Partly because it looked so honest.

“You’re right,” he said. “I’m sorry.” He shuddered, and there was suddenly a faint astringent tang on the air.

“The moons,” he said.

“What?”

He sighed, and looked, if I could believe it, almost embarrassed. Darask Fain, embarrassed? Now I was
really
confused.

“What, exactly, is going on?”

“I have a... it’s what you might consider a personal trait. Around full moon I give off a particular aura. And it has a certain effect on people.”

“What sort of – oh, wait a minute. You mean you’re in
heat?
”

He looked at me, open mouthed, and gave an utterly undignified snort of laughter.

“Oh, my,” he said. “You know, I’ve never heard it put precisely like that before, but it’s actually quite apt. Although I can control it to some extent at a normal full moon, around Twomoon it becomes rather more difficult.”

“You
can
control it, but you didn’t. You were using it on me.”

“Controlling it is difficult; it’s tiring, and it doesn’t work for long. Not when Twomoon is this close.”

“You tried it, nonetheless. I’m sorry, Mr Fain, but I don’t think I want to talk to you about this girl anymore. Or anything else. If you wouldn’t mind...” I turned towards the door.

“Babylon, Madam Steel,
please.
I’m sorry, it was stupid of me. I would never – I should have been honest with you. One gets into bad habits.”

I actually had my hand on the door handle. I stood there, looking down at it. A few little things were beginning to trickle together in my brain, now I could use it again. Darask Fain, moving among all the levels of society, no-one really knowing much about him. Darask Fain, with an interest in one lost, kidnapped, betrayed, but politically important girl. And a habit of dishonesty.

I turned around, folded my arms, and leaned on the door. “Are you by any chance something to do with the Diplomatic Section, Mr Fain?”

His face went completely still. He looked down at his nails. “Well, well,” he said. “I think I was right.”

“About what?”

“That you are rather sharp.”

“If I were that damn sharp I’d never have spoken to you in the first place. Is that a yes, then?”

“If you want proof, I’m afraid I don’t carry a badge.”

“If you want trust, give me a reason.”

“We can help each other.”

“Tell me why you want the girl, first.”

“We’re running out of time, Madam Steel.”

“I know. She’s supposed to be married before Twomoon. Tell me. Oh, and try that trait of yours on me again and I’ll punch you through the wall.”

He poured more coffee and leaned back, lifting the delicate cup. “Enthemmerlee Defarlane Lathrit en Scona Entaire is one of those in Incandress who wants to see things get better for the Ikinchli. Once married, at the apex of two powerful families, she could be a major force for change.”

“So you – the Diplomatic Section – want her married too?”

“It would suit us if Incandress were a more stable, equitable society. The reasons are complex and I am not free to tell you all of them, but be assured, that is what we hope for.”

“I see. So that’s why you need to get her back.”

“I am not entirely without concern for the girl herself.”

“And once she’s married? If they keep their women that close before marriage, how much power do they have after it?”

“More than you might think; their obsession seems to be with virginity, not with gender. But from what I know, the girl was kept unusually close, watched with something verging on obsession.”

“So how the hells did she get whisked away under the noses of her family and bodyguards and what-have-you?”

“We don’t know.”

There had been a barney. Fain had mentioned it, and so had the Chief; I’d been distracted by his mention of demigods, but there had been some trouble in the crowd. It had occurred to me that, just possibly, said ruckus had been engineered. A diversion, to turn people’s eyes elsewhere. But Fain had said that the girl was guarded to the point of obsession. So that alone would hardly have been enough, not without someone on the inside.

Maybe even the girl herself. Maybe she didn’t see marriage as her way to change things. Or maybe she wasn’t as idealistic as Fain believed and just wanted the hell out. I could hardly blame her for that.

“So did you have your own people on watch?”

“We had little warning that they were coming here.”

“That’s a no, then. Surely even a
little
warning should have been enough?”

He shrugged. “Whatever else it is, the Diplomatic Section is also, unfortunately, a bureaucracy. One needs permission, the right orders correctly signed, and official approval in order to do anything. And sometimes they are not forthcoming as quickly as might be wished.”

“And did you get your orders signed to try and lust me into agreeing to anything you said?”

“
Lust
you?”

“It’s hardly seduction, Mr Fain. Seduction is generally rather more subtle.”

“I was hoping to persuade you to continue looking, yes.”

“You didn’t think that the money would be enough?”

“I wasn’t sure it would. That’s a compliment, by the way.”

“Right.” I trusted a compliment from Fain about as much as a lead coin right now. “Do you know anything about why the Gudain are so damned anxious to have the girl married off? Why is the
timing
so important?”

“From what we can discover, it appears to be connected with their history, and with their belief system. Twomoon is not just a time of significance on Scalentine.”

Mokraine had said something similar. The various planes I’d passed through had so many different festivals, holy days and so forth, for so many reasons, it had never occurred to me back then that one of them might matter on
all
the planes.

“I don’t study planar cosmology,” Fain went on, “but those who do tell me that the next few days are highly significant for all sorts of magical and spiritual workings on a number of planes. Marriage, especially among noble families, often signifies more than itself. A return to stability. The rightness of the traditional way of doing things. But I am afraid the niceties of Gudain thinking are still beyond me. In any case, they are frantic to have her back in time; otherwise, the marriage cannot take place. The effects of that could be dreadful. Not only for the Gudain.”

“What do you mean?”

“You mentioned the reasons why the Ikinchli would not be foolish enough to kidnap the girl. But if she cannot be found and safely returned in time for the wedding, it is entirely possible that the Gudain will put out the story that they have done so in any case.”

“Reprisals,” I said, going cold.

“Exactly. They want this marriage, badly. If it doesn’t happen, and on time, don’t you think they might look for a scapegoat? Or hundreds of them? Ikinchli.”

“All right. What do I do if I find her?”

“Come to me. At the Singing Bird, not the Section.”

“Why not?” I said.

“Things at the Section can be... complicated. Let’s just say it will be in everyone’s best interests.”

“Including Enthemmerlee’s, Mr Fain?”

“Of course,” he said, rather shortly. “What will it take to convince you?”

I thought about it. “I don’t know.”

“I am running out of time.” I realised he’d lost some colour. “Personally, I mean. My control’s going to wear off shortly, and I’d rather not give you an excuse to punch me through the wall. It’s quite solid.”

“I will do my best, Mr Fain. That’s all I can promise you.”

“I’m sure you will, Madam Steel.” There was a metal tinge in his voice and his eye. Not a threat, just a promise that he could make things difficult for me, if he chose.

As if I didn’t know. I felt a plunging sense of relief that I hadn’t asked him to find out whether the Avatars were on Scalentine; he’d almost certainly know, but he’d also want to know why I was interested, and I didn’t need him to have anything else he could use against me.

I walked out of there in a state, what with the frustrated desire and the realisation that there was a lot more at stake than I’d realised.

I needed, desperately, to clear my head. And I needed to find out more about the Gudain. There was one place I could think of where I could do both.

TIRESANA

O
NE GIRL WAS
dead. Another two had disappeared; we were told that they’d achieved a posting, off to be priestesses at one or another of Babaska’s temples.

And if I ever thought about what Farren the mercenary had said, I pushed it away. Because I was stupid, because I was in love. And because I was afraid. I was afraid to ask Hap-Canae what was going on.

He’d never hurt me with anything but words. But I already suspected that he
might
, if I displeased him. That was one lesson it took me too long to learn: if you’re frightened of the person whose bed you share, whatever’s going on between you, it isn’t love.

Now there were four of us: me, Jonat, Renavir and Velance.

We all pretended to be excited about being posted away, becoming High Priestesses and having a whole temple district under our administration – well, apart from Renavir, who was so strange by then it was impossible to have a normal conversation with her.

I think the only one who genuinely liked the idea was Velance. She’d have made a good High Priestess. The rest of us were horrified by the idea of leaving, in case it took us from our Avatar. Not that they couldn’t come to us wherever we were, if they chose. Maybe we were all chewing on the suspicion that they could abandon us without a moment’s regret.

Jonat may have picked up something. An inkling. She was always the clever one; all that time she spent looking out of the window for Aka-Tete, she was thinking, too.

She flung herself into her studies, badgering the tutors for extra lessons. Like me, she’d quite enjoyed both aspects of our training, though she preferred the fighting to the seductive arts. Now she pushed herself and everyone around her until they were half-mad. Then she would suddenly give up, lose interest, drift away and stare out of the window. Later, when I first saw hawks kept for hunting, I remembered Jonat: all furious focused activity one minute, and hunched silence the next.