When she arrived at Estate Octavus the next day, Taya removed her armature in the foyer and left it with the servants. A few minutes later she was glad she had, because Viera turned from embracing Cristof to throw her arms around Taya's shoulders.
"I'm glad you came," the exalted said, fiercely.
"I'm so sorry." Taya hugged her back, surprised but flattered. "How's Ariq?"
"He's quiet. I'm afraid he's just starting to understand what this means." Viera stepped back, smoothing the front of her layered robes. Her strong features looked haggard. "Do you know who did it yet?"
"No, but we're looking into it," Cristof said. "I'll have some answers soon, I promise."
"Do they—" Viera stopped. "Who was the target? Alister or Caster? Do they know?"
"Not yet." Cristof took her arm and led her to a chair. Both he and Taya sat as soon as Viera was settled. "I've found one or two reasons why someone might want to kill Alister, but it's still possible that Caster was the target, or that this was just a random act of terrorism. It's too soon to tell."
Viera nodded, folding her hands in her lap.
"Would you be willing to answer some questions?" Cristof studied her. "I realize it's difficult to talk about, but—"
"Of course I will," Viera replied, cutting him off. "I spent all night trying to figure out why someone would want to kill my husband. The only thing I can think of is that it must have been Council business. Something political and dangerous."
"What was Caster working on? Did he have any important votes coming up? I know votes are confidential…."
"He told me a lot about his work. Maybe more than he should have, but he liked to ask my advice." Viera looked at her cousin. "I know he was going to vote against Alister's experimental program. And he was going to vote for an increase in the import tax on luxury items from Si'sier, and for a series of new safety regulations in the textile factories. None of those votes were worth killing him over."
"Alister told me yesterday that your husband had changed his mind about the program," Taya objected. "He was going to support it."
"Clockwork Heart?"
"Yes."
"I don't think so. Caster thought the whole idea was preposterous. He said that a machine would never have been able to predict a marriage like ours, and that he wasn't going to discourage anyone else from trying to find what we had." Her voice cracked on the last word, and she took a breath to steady herself.
"I'm sure he was right," Cristof said, taking her hand. "But you know Alister. He was convinced technology would solve all our problems."
Viera gave him a weak smile.
"I know. It's so funny that he would write that program after teasing you so much. He trusted machines and spent all his time around people, whereas you trust people and spend all your time around machines."
"I don't trust people that much. They're just as likely to malfunction as a machine."
Taya was only half-listening, still puzzling over Viera's previous answer.
"Could he have changed his mind and not told you? Because Alister was very certain…."
"Maybe he misunderstood something Caster said. That could be why they were out on the wireferry together," Cristof suggested.
"They were probably arguing, then," Viera sighed. "They respected each other's talents, but couldn't agree on how to run Ondinium. Our dinners together were always very loud."
Taya frowned. Alister had seemed adamant that Caster was on his side. But Emelie's accusations nagged at her memory.
"Do you think he might have lied to me?" she asked.
"Are you still thinking about that programmer?" The lines around Cristof's mouth tightened. "Don't. Alister would have no reason to lie to you about a Council vote."
"Unless he thought it would impress me," she ventured. Neither Cristof nor Viera immediately protested, so she hurried on. "He told me he'd shown Exalted Octavus some evidence about what broken marriages did to the economy, and that Octavus had finally seen things his way. That doesn't sound like a misunderstanding, to me. He even said the attack on the wireferry could have been because the Torn Cards were worried that Caster would convince other decaturs to change their votes."
"Caster didn't change his mind," Viera said, with confidence. "He would have told me, if he had. Clockwork Heart had become something of a joke between us."
"Oh." Taya sank back in her chair, discouraged.
It hadn't bothered her to think that Alister was flirting instead of looking for a serious romance. It hadn't even bothered her very much to think that he might have told her secrets to try to impress her. But if he'd lied to her — that was completely different.
A liar writing a true-romance program. It didn't make any sense.
"Did Caster leave any of his papers here?" Cristof asked, as she brooded. "And if so, may I look at them?"
"I would let you, but his papers are confidential," Viera said with regret. "The lictors are getting a warrant to take all his work away with them, and they won't be happy if I let you go through it, first."
Cristof pulled off his glasses, polishing them and gazing blindly out one window. Taya looked at Viera with confusion. Had the exalted already found out that Cristof was suspended?
Oh.
Viera didn't know that Cristof worked for the lictors at all.
Oh, Lady
, Taya thought with sudden panic.
What if Cristof was lying to me, too?
But no sooner had the thought crossed her mind than Cristof pushed his glasses back up his nose and reached into his suit jacket.
"I know you won't be happy about this, Vee," he said, pulling out a folded piece of paper and handing it to his cousin. "I had good reasons for not telling you. But the reasons don't matter anymore."
Viera unfolded the letter and read it, her eyebrows rising when she reached the end.
"Is this why you left Primus, Cris?" she demanded, handing the document back. Cristof took it, paused, then handed it to Taya.
She knew what it was even before she looked. It was his letter of appointment, confirming that he worked for the Ondinium Civic Police Force.
She read it, anyway. At least this wasn't a lie. She'd seen the lictors’ official letterhead and seal dozens of times on other documents.
"No. I started working for the lictors a few years after I left. I would have said something, at least to you and Alister, but the military thought I'd be more useful if nobody knew what I was doing."
"In other words, they turned you into a spy." Viera's tone was frosty. "That's not a gentleman's profession, Cris."
"I'm not a gentleman." Cristof, too, must have heard her disapproval, because an acid note had returned to his voice. "I never lied to you, Viera. I just didn't volunteer the information."
"That's called a lie of omission, and it's no better than a lie of commission." Now Viera's annoyance was more apparent. "Apparently all my years of defending your character have been in error."
Color rose in Cristof's cheeks, darkening the wave-shaped castemarks on his cheeks.
"I've done good work for the lictors. I've helped them catch smugglers, spies — I was one of the people who figured out Neuillan was selling our secrets to Alzana—"
"All of which would be very admirable if it had been done in an honorable manner. But I'm not going to condone you pretending to be something you're not."
"Like every other exalted in Ondinium?" Cristof snapped, gripping the arms of his chair and half-rising. "Hiding behind masks in order to pretend that they're flawless?"
"Not that again, Cris."
"It's the same thing!"
"If it were the same thing, then you wouldn't have any right to disdain us, would you? A mask of flesh is no different from a mask of ivory. But I think what you're doing is worse — at least people know when you're wearing a mask of ivory."
Cristof made a disgusted noise, dropping back into his chair.
"You and the icarus…. "he snarled. "Neither of you understands anything."
"When I said you were still wearing a mask, I wasn't talking about spying," Taya said, looking from one exalted to the other. Family spats were much more difficult to finesse than merchants’ arguments or foreigners’ misunderstandings. "Exalted Octavus, your cousin has been honest with you today because he wants to find the person who killed your husband and Alister. I'm helping him because I care, too. We can disagree about other things and still agree that the killer needs to be found, can't we?"
Viera nodded, her eyes still narrow as she regarded her cousin.
"Yes, but you and I are going to discuss this matter at greater length in the future, Cris."
"Agreed." Cristof's tone was curt. "In the meantime, do I have your permission to see Caster's papers?"
"Before you say yes," Taya interrupted, "there's something else you should know. Cristof's superiors have suspended him. He says his suspension only applies to investigating his brother's murder and that he's free to investigate a theft from the Oporphyr Tower. Your husband's papers might help him investigate that theft, but they're more likely to help him work on the case he's not supposed to touch."
Cristof shot her an angry look, his lips tight, but he didn't say anything. Well, he could be as angry as he wanted, she thought, but she didn't intend to lie to Viera Octavus for him — not by commission or omission.
"Were you going to tell me that?" Viera asked, turning to Cristof. He bared his teeth in a humorless smile.
"I don't have to tell anybody anything anymore," he said, in a voice like vinegar and honey. "I'll just leave all my talking to the icarus."
"Perhaps that would be a good idea." Viera stood. "I'll show you the papers, for the family's sake, but you can't take them away, and I intend to tell the lictors you were here."
Cristof nodded once, looking grim. They followed her out.
On the way down the hall, Taya caught Cristof's eye and raised an eyebrow.
"What?" he snapped. She decided to let his snide comment about speaking for him pass and asked another question, instead.
"Did your brother lie a lot?"
"I don't know." He looked away from her. "My brother cared what people thought. That can make a man do stupid things."
"I don't like it when people have hidden agendas and try to use me to meet them."
"My agenda isn't hidden." They followed Viera up a flight of stairs. "I want Alister's killer. I'm letting you work with me because you want to and because if I didn't, you'd just get in my way."
"You're ‘letting’ me work with you because you're too bad-tempered to get information out of anybody on your own," she retorted. "I don't know why the lictors thought you might be useful to them. What do you do, stab prisoners with the sharp edge of your tongue until they beg for mercy?"
He gave her an amazed look, then turned away again.
"Here." Viera opened the door to Caster's office. "Keep his things in order, Cristof. And leave Taya alone. Right now, I like her more than I like you. Taya, please make sure my cousin doesn't walk off with anything."
"I will," Taya said, putting her palm on her forehead and bowing. "Thank you, exalted."
"I'm not angry at you." Viera touched her cheek a moment, then turned. "Come again without Cris, so that we may enjoy a civil conversation together."
"Thank you," Taya repeated, as Viera walked back down the stairs. Then she turned. Cristof was already sitting at Caster's desk, his thin face intent as he rummaged through his papers. "You're going to apologize to her, right?"
"Of course I will," he said, sounding preoccupied.
Taya rolled her eyes and sat down at the desk. "What am I looking for?"
"Anything useful."
They spent two hours going through Caster Octavus's papers and files, searching for anything that might have led to his death. Taya confirmed from his correspondence that he'd intended to vote against the Clockwork Heart.
"Alister really did lie to me," she sighed, leaning back in Caster's oversized leather chair and pulling her legs up.
Cristof set down the file he was perusing.
"He's dead. Making yourself sick over him won't do you any good."
"I'm supposed to be a good judge of character. I have to be, if I'm going to be a diplomatic envoy." She rested her arms on her knees, staring out the window. The autumn sun was already low, although it was only afternoon. "I hate to think a man could just smile at me, and I'd forget everything I've learned about human nature."
"You care what people think, too."
"Not really." She glanced at him, saw his skeptical look, and gave him a rueful smile. "All right. Maybe a little. I don't want people to think I'm an idiot, anyway. And I'm feeling pretty idiotic right now."
"You're not an idiot." He picked up the file again. "I'll tell you when you're an idiot."
"Thanks."
"Just returning the favor."
Well, how about that,
she thought.
He has a sense of humor, after all.
"You sound better."
"Work's therapeutic." He turned a page in the file. Taya nodded, looking out the window again. It was too high up for her to see the Octavus's gardens. All she could see was sky and clouds. A bird flew by.
"Icarus."
"Hmm?"
"I don't have a hidden agenda. Nor do I intend to use you or mislead you with my charm."
Despite herself, she smiled, glancing at him. His face was studiously neutral.
"The day you act charming, I'll know something is wrong."
"Good."
Taya watched him as he looked back down at his work. He still reminded her of a crow, his unruly black hair sticking on end and his black greatcoat wrapped around him. Just like a crow. Loud and mocking, but not without a sardonic sense of humor.
"It's nice to know that you care what I think about you," she added. "And it hasn't even made you do anything stupid yet."
He looked up and blinked at her once, puzzled. Then he realized what she was saying. He frowned.
"Wanting to avoid yet another unfounded accusation isn't the same thing as worrying—"
"Be careful, exalted. You're about to talk yourself into a corner."
"Have you finished looking through all those papers?" he asked peevishly, sticking his beak back into the file he was holding.
They abandoned the office as the sun began to hang low between the mountains. Back in the Octavus foyer, Taya strapped on her icarus armature.
"Did you find anything useful?" Viera asked, holding a sleepy Ariq as they took their leave. Subdued voices from the parlor indicated that she had more visitors.
"A list of his intended votes on upcoming issues, and a better understanding of what kind of man he was," Cristof said. He took her hand and held it a moment. "Caster thought things through very carefully and did his research. I'm impressed."
"I wish you had known each other better." Viera sighed, then leaned forward and kissed his thin cheek. "Good luck, Cris. I'm still annoyed at you, but be careful. Don't let them take anyone else away from me."
"I won't." He returned the kiss and stepped back as Viera hugged Taya, Ariq squirming between them.
"You be careful, too."
"I will." Taya looked down at Ariq. He stared at her, his cheek against his mother's shoulder. "Bye-bye, Ariq. I'll see you later."
They walked down the estate path to the gate. A cold wind blew past them as they stepped out into the street, and long shadows stretched across the cobblestones.
"I told Dispatch I was working with you, so I don't need to report back," Taya said, glancing up at the red-streaked sky. "What time is it?"
"A little past four," Cristof replied, glancing at his gold watch.
"I think the bomber was after Alister." A gust of wind tugged her wings, carrying the faint smell of smoke from the factories far below on Tertius. "There doesn't seem to be any reason to target Exalted Octavus, but Alister was working on all those important programs. Plus, he knew something was going on, even if he thought you were the one involved. He must have said something to tip off the real spy."
"Unfortunately, any proof of that would be up there." Cristof pointed to the isolated Oporphyr Tower. "Do you know how long it will take to fix the wireferry?"
"A week or two, if they can beat the first snow," Taya said. "If it snows, it'll take longer."
"Damn." Cristof stared up at the mountaintop. "That's the next place we need to go to search for clues."
"I could fly up."
Cristof paused, then looked thoughtful as he contemplated her metal wings.
"Would you know what to look for?"
"Anything useful," she said, deadpan. He made a disgusted sound and looked back up at the mountaintop.
"It's too dangerous. We don't know where the killer's hiding."
"I could take you with me." She glanced at the low sun. "But not until dawn."
Cristof's expression grew guarded.
"What do you mean, take me with you?"
"Flying. You know, Alister kept joking about going flying. He wanted me to bring him some wings and take him aloft. I never did, though." If Cristof hadn't been suspended from the investigation, it would be easy to get him to the Tower. But doing it secretly posed some problems. She thought through the problem out loud. "We could leave tomorrow morning, as soon as it gets light. Paulo's on midnight-to-dawn shift. If we're lucky, he'll be dozing and won't notice that we're using the dock. First shift starts when the sun crests the mountain, so we could be long gone before anyone else gets there. If we use guest wings, someone might notice, but check-in and check-out are a little chaotic right now. And it'd be safer than taking somebody's personal wings."
"I'd have to wear wings?"
"Well, it's the only way up. I can counterweight you and keep a safety line between us. You wouldn't be in any danger." She nodded, satisfied. "I think it would work."
"If we're caught—"
"If we're caught, you're going to use every ounce of influence you can muster make sure I'm not grounded for the rest of my life," Taya stated. "I'm willing to help you, but not at the price of my freedom."
For a moment Cristof seemed to debate with himself, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. Then he sighed, pushing the frames back into place again.
"I'm certain that between Viera and I, we can keep you safe from prosecution. And I can't think of any other way we'll be able to search Alister's offices in a timely fashion." He shoved his hands into his pockets, looking down at the street. "Tomorrow morning?"
"We'll kick off the moment you can see your hand in front of your face," she affirmed.
"All right."
"By the way, what did you do with those punch cards?" Taya asked. "Are we going to take them with us?"
"No. I returned them to Lt. Amcathra this morning. I'd prefer to have kept them, but they're safer under lock and key. I've also put in a recommendation that the Labyrinth Code be rewritten as soon as possible."
"Maybe Kyle's team could do it."
"I suggested them."
"That was nice of you."
"I owed it to Alister."
Taya was pleased. Underneath Cristof's prickly exterior and lack of interpersonal skills, he had a sense of fairness she was starting to appreciate.
They fell silent as they walked.
"How did your work go this morning?" Cristof asked, at last. "Did the search teams find anything new?"
"No. More metal scraps, but that's all." She glanced at him. "Some searchers found a few bones, but they were too old to be… anyone's. The coroner said they're probably wild dog bones."
"Did you see them?"
"No. I decided to work with the engineers." Taya swallowed. It took a particular kind of person to work on a body reclamation team. Just the thought of finding something she might recognize made her feel sick. "They think they found part of the bomb."
"I'd like to see it."
"A team of experts was examining it."
"I wonder if I know any of them."
Taya shrugged, looking around. They were turning toward the switchback road that descended to Secundus.
"Did you did you find anything at your brother's house?"
"The mansion?" Cristof stopped. "The lictors searched it. But I was being questioned, and then they pulled me off the case." He made a sharp turn left, instead of taking the road to Secundus. "I'm an idiot. It's about half a mile away."
"Do you want me to go with you?"
He gazed at her, puzzled.
"You're free for the rest of the day, aren't you?"
"Yes. I just thought it might be too personal for you. Going through your brother's things."
"Oh." He looked away and gave an abrupt, dismissive shrug. "I have no intention of bursting into tears, if that's what you're afraid of."
"Your mask is in place."
"I did all my grieving last night." His voice was hard. "Now all I want to do is give Alister a peaceful rebirth by putting his killer behind bars."
Taya walked side-by-side with him, her wings straining against the harness when the winds caught them. She was glad he'd said ‘behind bars’ and not ‘to death.’ At least he wasn't going to do anything stupid.
Ondinium would execute the killer, anyway. The city wasn't tolerant of murderers.
That reminded her of her own fight. She glanced down at the cuts on her hand, which were nearly healed.
"Do you know if the Demican I stabbed is still alive?"
"So far."
"Did they find the Alzanans who were with him?"
"Not the last I heard. I expect the investigation has been suspended."
She mulled over that a moment, then attempted a joke. "Maybe after we've borrowed you a set of wings, we can walk around Tertius and try to get mugged. See if we can tempt them out."
"As long as we're walking."
"Oh, I wouldn't take you flying down there. Too many towers and wires. Flying up to the Tower will be a lot safer."
"Good." Cristof took a deep breath. "Alister learned how to fly when he was fourteen or fifteen. He said it was the most exhilarating thing he'd ever done. I didn't pay much attention to him. He was always getting excited over some new adventure or another. His enthusiasm would last a month or two, and then he'd move on to the next thrill. I imagine that being with you made him want to strap on a pair of wings again."
"He could fly?"
"Yes." Cristof looked at her. "He didn't tell you?"
No. But he'd led her to believe that he'd known nothing about flying.
A lie of omission, Viera would have called it.
She would have brought Alister a pair of wings, expecting to teach him what to do, and he would have been able to show off. To impress her.
Taya took a deep breath, shaking her head.
Just forget about it. It doesn't matter anymore.
"But you never learned how?" she asked, forcing herself to sound natural.
"No."
"You'll do all right. Knowing how armatures work will give you an advantage."
"Knowing how armatures work is different from actually using them."
"It's easy," she assured him. "The icarus docks are above all the towers and cables, except the wireferry to the Council building, and we won't have any problem avoiding the broken lines. The only danger will be the wind, and I'll help you navigate it."
"It's not the wind that worries me. It's the distance to the ground."
"You aren't afraid of heights, are you?" Taya teased, glancing at his sharp profile, which was cast into relief by the late afternoon sun. He was wearing a cross expression again.
"I'm terrified of them."
He said it so tonelessly that she burst into laughter. He shot her a dark look, stopping in the street.
"I'm sorry! I'm not laughing because you're afraid," she apologized. He glared, hunching his shoulders. A gust of wind flapped his coat around him, making him look like a crow with its feathers ruffled. "It's just that it explains so much. That's why you keep track of wireferry repairs, isn't it? I wish you'd told me sooner." A dry leaf whirled up and stuck to his hair. She reached up and plucked it away.
"It's not something I felt comfortable admitting to an icarus."
"Don't be silly." She let the leaf go, watching it tumble away in another gust. Cristof reached up and irritably brushed at the place where it had been. "If you're afraid of heights, you shouldn't go. I can keep you from falling, but if you freeze or panic, you might still get hurt."
"I won't panic."
"You never know how you'll react until you're up there."
"I'll be fine. I don't have a choice, so I'll do it." Impatience was creeping into his voice.
"All right. You don't need to get angry."
"I'm not angry." His voice was taut. "I'm not snapping, shouting, shaking, or lecturing. Nor am I pretending to be anything I am not. In fact, I am being very honest. Is that satisfactory, icarus?"
"Yes, exalted." She sighed. He would get moody again, just when they were starting to have a real conversation. "Is your brother's house nearby?"
He stared at her a moment, then tugged up his collar and turned away.
"It's right over there."
Estate Forlore didn't seem any different from the other houses around it; a huge edifice behind an iron gate. Cristof strode toward it as though eager to get away from her.
Taya drew in a deep lungful of the cold autumn air and watched Cristof search through his pockets until he found a ring of keys.
"You have a key to Alister's house?"
"It's my house too. And Alister had the keys to my shop."
When he got the gate open they walked up the path to the door, and he rang. A famulate woman dressed in mourning opened it, then stepped back, bowing. Taya recognized the servant from her dinner with Alister.
"Good afternoon, exalted. We've been awaiting your visit."
"I should have come by yesterday. I was distracted." Cristof stepped inside, dropping his gate keys back into his pocket. "Is Mitta here? I need to talk to her about — arrangements."
"Of course."
"This is Taya Icarus. See that she's made comfortable." He turned to her. "I need a few minutes to talk to Alister's housekeeper." He looked wary, as if expecting her to argue with him. But the servant's black livery and the black cloth draped over the mirrors in the foyer served as stark reminders of why they were there, and Taya just nodded.
"That's fine," she said. She should have guessed that Cristof would be the executor of his brother's will. "I'll wait."
"Would you prefer to doff your wings, icarus?" the servant asked, as Cristof vanished through a side passage. Taya nodded and left her armature behind in the cloak room. The servant led her into a parlor where a small fire burned, and she was soon settled in with a glass of warm spiced wine. It might have been pleasant, if she could forget that she was in a dead man's house.
Alister's taste had run to contemporary artists, she saw, studying the names on the paintings that hung on the walls. One of the works she recognized from last year's exhibition at the Ondinium Museum of Fine Art. She'd gone with Cassi and Pyke, but they'd abandoned Pyke after about half an hour of listening to him rail against the ‘anti-aesthetic’ of contemporary art. They'd wanted to enjoy the paintings, not think about the politics surrounding them.
Alister's furnishings looked up-to-date, too, which fitted her evolving mental image of him. He'd decorate the way he lived, she thought, looking around. Always looking for something new. The only thing that didn't fit was the parlor's neatness. Alister's office had been a mess. But then, he hadn't had servants in Oporphyr Tower to pick up after him.
She leaned back in the leather chair by the fire and sighed, cradling the glass between her cold fingers. A long-case clock ticked by the door. Had Cristof taken care of it? Her eyes moved to the mantel. It was bare.
Maybe that's where the clock Cristof repaired would have sat.
The clock that had been destroyed along with the wireferry and its two passengers.
Suddenly restless, Taya stood and left the room, walking down the hall. More paintings hung along the walls. She stopped to study one that depicted two icarii in flight and remembered Alister's joke about skydancing. He'd pretended he'd never heard of it, but Cristof's story and this painting proved otherwise. Had he been taught by some icarus girl who'd been flattered by the attentions of a handsome young exalted? Had he flown with a mask over his face, or, surrounded by icarii, had he dared to take it off and hope that nobody on the ground would look up and see the waves on his cheeks?
Her anger at his lies was fading. She stepped back to look at the other paintings. They could have belonged to a complete stranger.
I didn't know him
, she thought with resignation.
I'm sorry he's gone, but I wonder if I would have liked him, once I'd figured out who he was?
Maybe not.
She turned, then started as she realized she was being watched. Cristof stood at the end of the hall, his pale eyes fixed on her. He'd taken off his greatcoat, and his dark suit blended in with the hall's shadows. Only his white cuffs and collar stood out.
"I got tired of sitting in the parlor."
"You look pensive."
"I was just looking at this painting." She gestured to the icarii. "The artist did a good job."
"You can have it, if you want."
"No! No, that's all right." She didn't want anything of Alister's in her little eyrie apartment. "I live with icarii. I don't need paintings of them on my walls."
"I didn't mean to leave you for so long. The staff had a lot of questions."
"What will happen to them now?"
"They can stay here until I decide what to do with the house." He walked forward. "Alister's office is upstairs. Are you done with your drink?"
"Yes." She followed him as several clocks began to toll, all at the same time. Five in the afternoon. "Did you take care of Alister's clocks?"
"Usually." He glanced back at her as he started up a flight of stairs. "Is your landlady going to fix hers?"
"I don't know."
"If she doesn't, you should buy an accurate clock for yourself."
"Clocks are too expensive for an icarus."
"I thought you earned a reasonable salary."
"I do all right, considering the Council takes care of my food and housing and provides me with a uniform and armature. But a clock would just be a luxury. There are plenty of public clocks I can look at, and the church bells, of course."
"Are you saving your money for something important?"
The question surprised her. It seemed intrusive, although she didn't have any reason not to answer. "Retirement, I guess. I don't know. I don't need much to be happy. Just a few friends, my wings, and the sky."
"That sounds like a good way to live."
"It is. Although seeing the way you exalteds live makes me feel a little deprived." She looked around. "My room is going to seem awfully bare when I go back to it."
"I have nothing for you to envy."
She remembered his spartan living quarters. "But you don't have to live like that. Don't you like paintings, or comfortable chairs, or nice furniture?"
"I live on Tertius. I don't want to attract thieves."
"So why not move to Secundus and be more comfortable? You told me you had money."
"Maybe I'm like an icarus. I don't need much to be happy."
"Are you? Happy?"
His shoulder twitched, and he turned as he reached the top of the stairs. Late afternoon light from one of the second-story windows ran in a bright bar across his face.
"I was happier before my brother died."
"I'm sorry." She touched his sleeve as she joined him. "I mean, are you satisfied with the way you live? Don't you ever feel left out, seeing all the things Alister and Viera own?"
"I chose to walk away from all that." Looking ill at ease, he disengaged his arm and pushed up his glasses. "Alister's office is the door behind you. I'm sure it's a mess."
She pushed open the door and gave a sad laugh, looking around. Cristof had guessed correctly. Alister incorporated his floor filing system at home as well as in the Tower. She picked her way inside, setting her wine glass on a bookshelf.
"I can't believe he got anything done like this."
"Somehow he managed." Cristof followed her inside, making his way to the desk. "I assume he learned how to read this mess the same way he learned how to read the holes on a punch card."
"He joked about it, the first time I met him."
"He joked about a lot of things." Cristof looked around, his expression unreadable. "I'll go through his desk. I think that the important part of this disarray will be in the glass-fronted cabinet over there, where he kept his programs. Why don't you start there?"
Taya nodded and squeezed around a pile of books to get to the cabinet. She reached for the door, then paused.
"Is the cabinet supposed to be locked?"
"Oh, of course. He kept his Council programs in there. Do you need me to pry it open?" Cristof started to reach for his pocket, then frowned. "I have a small repair kit in my coat downstairs. It has a screwdriver."
"No, the door's unlocked. That's why I asked." Taya pushed the doors aside, revealing shelves full of long, labeled boxes. Unlike the rest of his filing system, this one was obviously alphabetical. Three boxes were missing from the "C" section. Marks in the dust on the shelves indicated that they had been removed recently.
"There's a program missing. Clockwork Heart, I'll bet."
"What?" Cristof joined her. "Maybe his team took it. This might have been the copy they were running last night."
"How would they have gotten it?"
"I'll check with Mitta." They both stood shoulder-to-shoulder, reading the labels off the other boxes.
"Well, at least he didn't keep the Labyrinth program in here," Taya said.
"He wouldn't be that careless." Cristof closed the cabinet door and glanced at the lock. "It wasn't forced." He shrugged. "Either he took it or his team did. Maybe he was still tinkering with it down at the lab, since it was coming up for vote in Council."
They continued the search, each settling down with a separate stack of papers. Several times Taya looked up to catch Cristof staring at nothing, his thin face tight and miserable. She didn't say anything, and after a few minutes he always started working again, rubbing his eyes.
The sight depressed her. For brief moments at a time she could forget about the deaths, but their memory always returned, casting a pall over everything. Even though his irascibility exasperated her, she had to respect the way Cristof kept pushing forward. It would have been easier for him to just give up and grieve.
Work's therapeutic.
If only he weren't so stubborn about hiding his feelings.
She sighed.
"What's wrong?" Cristof turned, his face almost invisible in the shadows that stretched across the room. Taya realized she'd been straining to see the papers in front of her for the last ten minutes or so. The sun had set below the mountains.
"It's dark."
"Oh." He stood, rummaged through the desk for matches and lit a gas lamp on the wall. "Better?"
"Yes." She studied the shadows that hollowed out his cheeks and eyes. "How are you doing?"
"I haven't found anything that seems relevant."
"That's not what I meant."
He hesitated, then shrugged.
"I told you I wasn't going to burst into tears."
"I wouldn't think any less of you if you did."
"It's not going to happen." His voice brooked no disagreement. She sighed and dropped flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling. The leather of her flight suit creaked as she folded her arms under her head.
"Don't you ever relax that iron grip you keep on yourself?"
"I'll relax it when this is over."
She lifted her head to glance at him. He sat rigidly in his chair.
"Sure you will." She sighed again. "I'm sorry. I'm just thinking out loud. If I start getting annoying, just tell me."
"You're long past ‘start.’"
She dropped her head again and smiled at the ceiling. If he could be sarcastic, he couldn't be too bad off.
"I'm starving. Can we take a break for dinner?"
"I plan to avoid eating until after our flight tomorrow, but don't let me stop you."
"You should eat something," she urged him. "You don't want to get light-headed out there."
"I don't think that's avoidable, and I'd rather not get sick, as well."
"I told you, I'll take care of you." She propped herself back up on her elbows. "Anyway, come to dinner with me. Even if you're not hungry, it'll be better than sitting up here on your own. Then we can go ask Kyle if he took Alister's copy of Clockwork Heart."
"Now you're my voice and my counselor?" He stood, casting dark, narrow shadows against the opposite wall.
"Sure," she said, holding out a hand. "I don't know what it's like for exalteds, but among icarii, after you've eaten, argued, and cried together, you're friends."
He looked at her hand, then drew back.
"Then perhaps we should avoid sharing a meal," he said, turning away.
"What?" Taya gaped. "What in the Lady's name does that mean? An exalted can't be friends with an icarus?"
"That's not it at all."
"Then what?" she demanded.
"I'm not Alister." His voice was cold and dispassionate. "I don't need a friend who only tolerates me because I'm the last link to her lover."
Taya scrambled to her feet.
"Is that what you think I'm doing?"
"It's obvious."
"Well, you're wrong. First of all, Alister and I never even kissed, so we're hardly lovers, and second of all, you're no link to him at all. Alister might have lied to me, but he was never rude." Taya jerked around and stormed out of the room, throwing the door open as she went.
"He told me you were lovers!" Cristof shouted, behind her. She ignored him and clattered down the stairs, heading for the foyer and her floating armature.
Like him? Pity him? What in the Lady's name was I thinking?
She grabbed her armature. Forget it. She'd made a heroic effort to be diplomatic, even to be friendly, but she wasn't going to be a masochist about it.
"Icarus?" The servant appeared, hesitating. Taya snapped the keel shut over her chest and began running straps through buckles.
"Tell the exalted I'll meet him at the dock gate at dawn," she snapped. She heard Cristof descending the staircase. She gave her shoulder straps a yank, eager to be gone.
"What about the University?" Cristof asked, standing in the hallway facing her. His voice was tight. "I thought we were going to talk to the programmers."
"Talk to them yourself." She fixed the last of her buckles and gave him a withering look. "You don't need me to be your voice, your counselor, or your friend. So I'll give you exactly what you want, exalted. Nothing."
Cristof gestured to the servant to go. The wide-eyed famulate darted away.
"It's clear I didn't have all the facts. I spoke poorly."
"Yeah, you've got a real knack for that." She turned and pushed the doors open. "Dawn. By the dock gates. And only because I said I would."
"Taya, wait!"
"Forget it, exalted. You're not the only one in the world whose pride can be wounded." She headed down the steps, relieved to feel the crisp, cold autumn air on her face and the familiar brush of wind against her arching wings.
After tomorrow, I'm through with this
Reaching the front gate, she pushed it open.
Pyke was right — exalteds are nothing but trouble. I'll take him to the tower for Viera's sake, but that's the end of it. I've got real work to do.
The wide Primus street was empty. Lights glowed in the windows of the neighboring estates, and the moon was bright overhead. She slid her arms into the uplifted wings and shrugged to unlock them, spreading them wide.
"Taya! Wait!"
She turned. Cristof was hurrying out the gate, his greatcoat askew.
Taya took a step away from him, turning her face into the wind.
"Stay out of my way," she warned him, fanning her metal feathers wide. He ducked beneath them.
"Would you listen to me, please?"
"I've got nothing to say to you."
"Please!"
She gazed up at the stars, then lowered her wings, berating herself for being a weak-willed fool. She fixed Cristof with a steely eye as he stumbled to a halt in front of her.
"You've got ten seconds."
He grabbed her forearm, which was encased in protective ondium struts. "I'm sorry — Alister told me you were lovers. I thought it was true."
"We already know he was a liar." She tried to shake him off, but his grip tightened.
"I shouldn't have accused you like that. I'm sorry. I'm the one who sees my brother, every time I look at you."
"Why?" Taya regarded him with suspicion. His pale eyes were wide behind his glasses.
"Do you have any idea what you looked like, dancing together?"
"It was just a dance."
"You looked—" his voice cracked. "You looked happy. You looked like a couple. That was the last time I ever talked to him. The night I saw you dancing together."
"Oh, Lady." Taya's shoulders sagged, and metal feathers clanked against the cobblestones.
"After — I wanted to talk to you about what you'd overheard, but you were on the dance floor and Alister was bragging about how you were going to spend the night with him, so I gave up. I shouldn't have believed him, but I knew you'd been seeing him before the party. And when you were together it was so obvious that you were meant for each other—" he stopped, clutching the ondium struts as if to physically hold her in place. "Every time I look at you, I feel guilty because he died and I didn't. And I can't replace him for you."
"Of course you can't." Taya suddenly felt tired.
I should have left without listening to him. Being angry is better than being depressed.
"There's nothing to replace."
"You loved him."
"No, I didn't. I liked him, and I thought it might turn into love, but after everything I've found out about him, I'm glad it didn't. I don't know. Maybe it is better to be rude. You piss me off, but you don't lie to me."
"Only by omission." Cristof looked down at his white fingers. "It's been making me sick, envying my dead brother. I'm sorry."
Envying
? Taya gave him a searching look. The exalted hunched his shoulders, a picture of sharp angles and shadows, and lifted his hands from her armature.
"Don't worry about tomorrow, icarus. I'll find some other way up to the tower. Maybe Amcathra will let me back in on the investigation if I tell him what I've found so far."
Taya stared up at the sky again and gave a long, pained sigh.
Oh, Lady. I need to learn how to be hard-hearted.
"You're a real slagging pain in my tailset, you know that, exalted? I don't know how much more of you I can take. I've got lots of other people I could spend my time with."
"I don't." The gas lamps turned Cristof's glasses into white flames against the darkness as he pushed them higher on his nose and turned away. "Fly safely, icarus."
She stared after him a moment, then lifted her arms and shrugged her wings back into their locked position.
Forgefire
, she thought.
What else am I going to do tonight? Sit in my bedroom and brood?
"We already shared a meal, anyway," she called after him. "Back when you weren't being so rude."
He stopped, the hem of his greatcoat swinging around his legs.
"I said I'm sorry."
"Among icarii," she said, to his back, "when two friends fight, one of them buys the other a drink to make up."
He stared straight ahead, into the darkness.
"What kind of drink?"
"A cold beer to wash down a spicy Cabisi stew would be perfect." She folded her arms over her chest. "I told you I'm starving."
He turned.
"Then I'll buy your dinner, too," he said, his grave tone leavened by the profound relief in his face.