Fate’s Edge (The Edge #3)(85)
Author: Ilona Andrews

Cerise leaned toward her. "How are you feeling?"

"Better, thank you."

Morell de Braose drifted over to them. He held himself straight, not arrogant, perhaps even friendly, but firm, like a magnanimous king of all he surveyed. The eyes didn’t lie, though. In unguarded moments, his irises were cold. He would kill in an instant with no remorse.

"How is your traveling companion?" Morell asked.

"I’m afraid she’s putting on a brave front for my sake." Cerise reached over and affectionately squeezed her hand. William gave de Braose an ugly stare. Morell smiled. "Let me know if there is anything I can do to ease your stay. My staff are at your disposal."

"You are too kind." Cerise smiled at him.

A servant appeared in the doorway, carrying an ornate box, and made a beeline for Morell.

Morell moved on. His stride tightened. He was walking somewhere with a purpose.

Both she and Cerise watched him.

Morell stopped before George, who nursed a cup of weak wine. "My lord."

"Baron."

They both bowed.

In the corner, Jack tensed.

"I understand you have a most unusual magic talent." Morell raised his voice. The gathering instantly focused on him.

"My dear baron, you give me too much credit," George answered.

They must’ve put them through an etiquette steel wringer in the Weird. Broken teenagers didn’t radiate cold dignity like that. But then, George and Jack both were one of a kind. It was more important to George especially, Audrey reflected. George didn’t want to be viewed as an Edge rat. "I wonder if you would deign to entertain our guests with a small demonstration? I myself have never witnessed necromancy in action."

It was a test, Audrey realized. Kaldar had passed his evaluation, but Morell still wanted to be sure he wasn’t being conned.

The servant opened the box. Audrey rose to see. Three small dead birds lay inside, their blue feathers dull. Above the room on the right balcony a Texas sharpshooter sighted George through the scope of his rifle.

"I do hope you didn’t take these lives for mere entertainment," George said.

"No, this was the result of an unfortunate accident, I’m afraid," Morell said.

George surveyed the birds. "Beautiful plumage. Are these a common bird to California?"

George was screwing with him. It was a dangerous game to play.

"Yes."

Come on, George. Come on.

"Do they sing?"

"I have no idea." Morell still had his smile, but his patience was wearing thin.

The tension in the room grew so tight, it was difficult to breathe.

George stared straight at Morell. "Let’s find out."

He passed his hand over the birds.

A second passed. Another.

Morell’s smile gained a predatory edge.

The three birds spread their wings and shot into the air, chirping a trilling melody. Someone cried out in surprise.

Jack glanced at Kaldar, a question in his eyes. Kaldar nodded.

Jack took a step back, gathering himself into a tight ball, and jumped five feet in the air. His hand closed about one of the birds. He landed, petted the bird, and opened his hand. The bird took to the air. An amber fire rolled over Jack’s irises. "Sorry. Reflex."

George rolled his eyes with a mock sigh and glanced at Morell. "Are you satisfied, my lord?"

"Completely."

The birds circled the room once and shot out into the hallway and through the nearest arch to the blue skies and freedom.

A good time for a private conversation. Audrey gasped and sagged, slightly limp on her chair.

Cerise grasped her hand. "Lisetta, Lisetta, are you all right?"

Morell cleared the distance between them.

"I feel sick." Audrey pressed her hand to her mouth. "I’m so sorry."

"Too much excitement," Cerise said.

Morell knelt by her. "How can I help?"

"Is there a place we could move to? Somewhere private with good ventilation?"

"The atrium." Morell rose. "Delaver, escort Lady Candra and her companion to the atrium, please. Make sure their needs are tended to."

FIVE minutes later, they were seated in the atrium. Perched on top of a slender corner tower, the atrium occupied a huge round room with enormous arched windows. An artificial waterfall spilled from the opening in the wall, spreading through the creek bed, gently curving through the room. Fat orange-and-white fish floated above the gray pebbles forming the creek’s bottom. Here and there, exotic plants spread their green leaves from thigh-high flower beds bordered with stone. Garlands of vines wound along the walls, scattered with delicate cream blossoms. The air smelled of flowers.

Audrey took a place on a white love seat with a soft blue cushion. Cerise settled on a chair next to her, slipping the flower gadget under the nearest shrub. William had remained in the dining room, and the guard sent by Morell stationed himself at the doorway, far enough for their voices not to carry.

A servant appeared as if by magic, deposited an ice-frosted pitcher of lemonade and two glasses on a table in front of them, and bent double, waiting.

"Thank you, we’ll serve ourselves. You may go," Cerise told him.

The servant departed.

Cerise watched him go. "Notice how he moves? A trained martial artist. Most of Morell’s staff are very fit. In a household of this size, you’d see some variation: someone will be fat, someone will be small, but no, most of his look like they spend hours at the gym."

Audrey gave her a cautious glance.

"Don’t worry, the dampener is active. Even if they’re listening in by magical means, as long as we don’t raise our voices, they will hear nothing except quiet murmurs."

A blue bird flew in through the window and perched on the stone border.

"About time, George."

"It’s a big castle," George’s soft voice came from the point above the bird.

Cerise poured two glasses of lemonade. "You had specific instructions from William. All you had to do was stay out of trouble until we came back. What are you doing with Kaldar?"

She slipped a small packet from her sleeve and gently tapped it above the first glass. Granules of white powder fell into the lemonade. Cerise watched them float to the bottom and moved the glass to Audrey. "No poison."

"We decided the best course of action would be to remove ourselves from the house," George said.

"Ah."

"We stowed away on Kaldar’s wyvern. He didn’t know we were there until we arrived in California."

"And this was your brilliant plan to stay out of trouble?"