The physician cleaned and bandaged her cut, warned her not to rescue anyone from a wireferry accident for a week or two, and sent her on her way. Taya hurried back to the eyrie and felt a twinge of disappointment to find the clock back in one piece and Cristof gone.
"Taya!" Gwen shouted for her as she turned to head up the stairs, and Taya spun, changing direction to enter the parlor.
"What?"
"Your outcaste left. He gave me an estimate and took off looking like he'd been drinking vinegar." The landlady sniffed. "So, you got an invitation to dinner from an exalted?"
"Yes." Taya dropped into an overstuffed chair and made a face. "The cousin of the woman I rescued yesterday. He wants to thank me."
"And the outcaste disapproves?"
"His name is Cristof Forlore, and he's the exalted's brother."
"Oh." Gwen's eyebrows rose. "It's a family affair, is it?"
"It's not any kind of affair at all," Taya objected, nettled. "Cristof doesn't approve of me, and I don't want to cause any trouble between him and his brother."
"Who is a decatur."
"Decatur Alister Forlore."
Gwen looked impressed. "Well, if a decatur is asking you to dinner to thank you for saving his cousin's life, you can hardly say no. Is he well-mannered? Do you like him?"
"I only talked to him once, but he was very charming." Taya sighed. And dangerously good-looking. "I have to say no, Gwen. He's probably got the wrong impression about me — you know how it is. And besides, I don't have anything to wear."
"Go in your flight suit. That's perfectly acceptable attire for an icarus on business," Gwen said firmly. Taya wrinkled her nose.
"I don't think he expects this dinner to be business."
"He said it was to thank you."
"Yes." Taya didn't mention the letter's greeting, which was less than businesslike.
"Well, then he can't complain if you wear your flight suit. And if you don't want to give him the wrong impression, a flight suit is more than chaste."
Taya smiled. That was true. Alister might be disappointed if she showed up in a flight suit instead of a dress, but the few smocks she owned were more suitable for picnics over summer on Secundus than dinner during autumn on Primus. And a flight suit really was very difficult to get out of.
She chewed on her bottom lip, thinking about it.
"But his brother doesn't approve…."
"His brother's a freak."
"He is not!"
"He's an exalted who walks around barefaced and dresses like a famulate. Taya, dear, he's a freak. And an ill-tempered freak, at that."
"He's not so grouchy when you get to know him." Taya wasn't sure why she was defending the clockwright. Gwen was right. Still… she felt a little sorry for him. It couldn't be easy, living the life of an outcaste.
"Well, he's not so important, either. If I were you, I'd worry more about offending a decatur than an outcaste. If you're going to fly with the eagles, dearest, you can't waste your time on the crows."
Crows. Taya's lips curved up. Cristof did look like a crow, and he certainly squawked like one.
"Then you think I should go?"
"You want to join the diplomat corps, don't you?"
"What — oh." Taya's voice dropped to a whisper as it suddenly dawned on her. "Oh!"
Exam scores were only part of the decision-making process. Diplomatic envoys had to work very closely with exalteds, so political acumen and personality were also important. The corps selection board would be inclined to favor a candidate who had friends on the Oporphyr Council.
"Oh. Oh, Lady," she groaned, suddenly seeing everything in a new light. "Why did you have to say that?"
"Hmph, some diplomat you'll make! You'd better start thinking like a politician, love. You have a golden opportunity to advance yourself, and there's no shame in making the most of it. You didn't rescue that woman for selfish reasons, and you didn't ask the decatur to invite you out to dinner. But as long he did, it's your duty to accept the Lady's gift and use it!"
Taya made a face. She hadn't applied to the diplomatic corps to dabble in politics. If politics had interested her, she wouldn't have been so bored by Pyke. She'd applied to the corps so she could interact with foreigners, get a taste of their cultures, and maybe even travel outside of Ondinium someday. It was the unusual and exotic that had attracted her to diplomatic work, not the politics and power plays.
"It just seems so… manipulative."
"Whether or not it's manipulative is up to you. I'm not telling you to accept the dinner, sleep with the man, and then start asking him for favors. Just go and do your best to impress him with your good sense and good manners."
"Yes…. "Taya drew in a deep breath. Yes, that was sound advice. "Thank you, Gwen."
The landlady smiled, pleased with herself.
"A decatur — you're a lucky girl, Taya. Who knows? This could be a turning point in your life."
Cassi didn't agree that a flight suit was appropriate dinner attire, but after making a frenzied survey of the wardrobe of every icarus in the eyrie who was roughly Taya's height and build, she had been forced to agree that it was Taya's best option on such short notice.
"But," she warned Taya, "if this what your new life is going to be like, we're going to have to get you a better wardrobe."
"I'd be perfectly happy spending the rest of my life in this suit," Taya confessed, looking at herself in Cassi's mirror. They'd gone up to the docks to retrieve it and had spent two hours replacing worn straps and buckles and buffing the well-worn leather to a soft glow. "It's comfortable, practical, and warm."
"You're not going to catch yourself a man wearing comfortable, practical, and warm," Cassi said tartly. "About the only thing a flight suit has going for it is that it's tight."
"Big deal." Taya scowled at her chest, pressed even flatter than usual by the suit's snug fit. "I look like a boy, just like your nephew said."
"Well, we could pad you out, but your decatur might be surprised if you suddenly grew breasts."
Taya smiled. "This is just business. I'm not trying to seduce him."
"Good thing, if you're wearing that
"
Taya sat on the porch stairs at eight, her hands in warm gloves and her collar pulled high. Their hunt through the eyrie for a suitable dress had spread the news of her dinner appointment, and the other icarii had started offering her scandalous advice about "what exalteds want." Explaining that her date was a cousin of the exalted she'd saved hadn't stopped the chaffing. Finally, she'd fled outside, preferring to sit in the cold than listen to more jokes.
At last she heard one of the city's small, one-horse hacks rattling down the street. She stood and waved to the famulate driver, who saluted and pulled over to the porch.
"Taya Icarus?" he asked.
"That's me." She watched as the coachman wrapped the reins around a rail and hopped down to open the door. "Where are we going?"
"Rhodanthe's, on Primus. Fare and tip are already paid." He smiled pleasantly at her. "Never carried an icarus as a passenger before. Always seems a little strange to see one of you without your wings, don't it? My map says I can get to Regent if I keep following Cliff Road, but I thought Cliff dead-ends at the flight docks. Is the map right, then, or am I?"
"Both, actually. Cliff Road forks, and you can get to Regent if you take the left turn, but it's not Cliff Road anymore. I think it turns into Catamount."
"Wide enough for us, you think?"
"It's used by delivery wagons making their rounds, so it must be," she assured him. "It's dark, though."
"I have lanterns. Well, in you go, then, and my thanks for the directions."
"Sure." Taya slid inside, then leaned forward as the coachman was about to close the door. "What's your name?"
"I'm Gregor, and my mare here is Bolt. We make the city circuit during the day, the two of us, but we can be hired special if you leave a message at any of the hack stations."
"I'll remember," she promised. He touched his cap and closed the door. In another moment, the hack lurched forward.
Riding in a hack, Taya decided after about ten minutes, was considerably more uncomfortable than walking, and a lot less efficient than flight.
Most Ondiniums walked. Because the city was so crowded and steep, only a few horse-drawn vehicles were licensed to operate in the sectors. Most of them were wagons for deliveries and hacks for the elderly and crippled. Exalteds used the wireferry or their own light carriages for travel, and icarii, of course, flew, delivering the post and acting as couriers and messengers to spare others the long walks from sector to sector.
Foreigners were the economic mainstay of the hack system. Few of them had the lungpower to manage the steep hikes through the city that native Ondiniums took for granted.
By the time the hack had reached the smoother streets of Primus and stopped, Taya was thoroughly shaken and disgruntled. She stepped out of the coach with a grimace and stretched.
"You all right, then?" Gregor asked.
"No offense, but next time I'll fly."
"Inside the sectors proper, you get a smoother ride." he apologized. "That Catamount needs to be cobbled, it does."
"It probably doesn't get used often enough." She looked at the restaurant door. The sign and facade were lit with gas. They were in the commercial part of Primus, but she'd never been to this street before. "Do you know this place? What's it like?"
"Mixed-caste. I ain't never been inside, but it's popular enough. I drive up plenty of fare from Secundus for business dinners, don't I? Now, I'm supposed to pick you up again in two and a half hours, and I'll wait here if you ain't out. If you leave before that, any hack will serve, but tell the man at the door about me, won't you? Otherwise I'll be sitting here all night waiting for you, I will."
"Don't worry." She smiled. Two and a half hours. Business for real. That relieved some of her concern. "I think I might rather walk back, though."
"Now, that wouldn't be safe, would it? ‘Sides, you'd be chilled to the bone even under all that leather. You wait for me, and I'll pay particular attention you don't get too rattled up on the journey back."
"Fair enough. I'll see you in a few hours, Gregor."
He touched his cap and lifted the reins. Taya turned to the door.
The maitre d’ looked surprised when she walked in. He recognized her flight suit, but he looked puzzled as his eyes rose over her shoulders and registered her missing wings.
"I'm Taya," she said. Through one of the doorways she could see a large dining room filled with well-dressed Cardinal castes, eating and laughing together. She was going to look very out of place among them, she thought, her stomach churning. "I'm a guest?"
"Taya Icarus, yes, you're expected," the man said, at once. "Please follow me."
To Taya's relief, he opened another doorway, leading her into a wide, empty hall lined with doors. He opened one of them and bowed her through, closing the door behind her.
The room was small and almost empty, with only three chairs and one low table. Another door stood on the opposite side of the chamber. A liveried servant bearing the circular caste-mark of a famulate stood and bowed.
"Taya Icarus?" The uniformed woman waited for her to nod. "Decatur Forlore awaits you." She opened the second door.
This door revealed a much more lavishly appointed room, and Taya suddenly understood. Of course, an exalted couldn't eat in the main room; not in a mixed-caste restaurant. These chambers must have been set aside for private dining, with the antechambers keeping the exalteds out of the sight of lower-caste guests and restaurant staff who might be passing by.
She stepped inside. Gas lamps on the wall brightened the room, their light reflecting off gilt-edged mirrors and well-polished tables and chairs.
Decatur Forlore was already on his feet, smiling.
"Taya! I feared you wouldn't be able to come. I apologize for the short notice, but I found myself at liberty this evening and hoped to make the best of my unexpected night off."
"I–I appreciate the invitation, exalted," Taya stammered, bowing and pressing her palm to her forehead.
He wasn't masked, of course, but he glittered with gold and jewels, and he wore the traditional three layers of flowing silk robes. Each robe was embroidered in silver and gold thread, and small gemstones glittered on their stiff cuffs and lapels. The exalted's long, shining black hair was swept around his head and held in place by golden combs and emerald-studded chains that reflected his green eyes.
"Sit." Alister stepped forward to take her arm, leading her to a chair. Taya stiffened at the touch of his fingers, her gaze flying to his face. He paused. "What's wrong?"
"I'm sorry, I just—" she stopped, confused.
He laughed and drew her forward, pulling out her chair.
"I was hoping we could avoid standing on caste tonight," he said. "Frankly, I find it tiresome, and I would like to talk."
"Of course." Taya was chagrined. "I'm just used to standing at arm's length from… exalteds."
"I never keep anyone I admire at arm's length." Alister gestured to the chair and Taya sat. He picked up a bottle. "May I?"
Taya nodded, remembering what Cristof had said about Alister pouring drinks for her. Color rose in her cheeks.
The exalted was acting like a man who expected an icarus to be available for his evening's pleasure.
No — no, he's not, he's just being polite,
she scolded herself. Wasn't he? How did exalteds act in private, anyway? She didn't have any basis for comparison. Except Cristof. And he didn't count.
Alister finished pouring and handed her a glass. "My servant will order for us and bring in the food. I told her to order a little of everything, so you should find something you like."
"Do you always have to be this circumspect when you dine out?" Taya asked, as he filled his own glass and sat down. Unlike Cristof, he didn't place himself on the opposite side of the table from her, but sat at the end, his chair angled toward her. Gas flames played off the golden ornaments in his clothing and hair.
"No, not always. We could have gone to an exalted-only restaurant, but people would have stared at you, and I was afraid you would find it embarrassing."
She nodded. "I would have. In fact, I'm — I'm a little nervous about attending Exalted Octavus's party. Am I going to be very out of place? Are any of the exalteds going to mind that I'll be seeing them without their masks?"
"Of course not. You will be our guest of honor, and we're all accustomed to dealing with icarii. I think you're very fortunate to be an icarus. It must be very liberating to move freely from Tertius to Primus and never worry about masks and propriety."
Taya glanced down at her glass. "I worry about propriety all the time, exalted. When you have to work with all the castes and foreigners, it's hard to remember which rules apply, even after taking the diplomacy exam. Like just now — one of the rules I was taught was never to touch an exalted."
"Certainly you wouldn't in public, but you can't believe that exalteds never touch lower castes in private."
"Well…" She blushed. Of course she knew that exalteds had personal lower-caste servants who saw them unmasked and helped them dress and do their hair, and she was sure that occasional cross-caste friendships and romances occurred. But those were special, necessary exceptions. "I've never touched an exalted before."
"Liar." His smile made the accusation playful. "My cousin told me she clung to you like a baby while you were falling."
"That's not the same thing." For that matter, she realized, Cristof had touched her to tend her wound. "I wasn't thinking about caste then," she protested, and it was true of both occasions.
"But you are now. That's understandable, but won't you try to set your qualms aside for a few hours? I could have waited to talk to you at Viera's party, but I wanted to get to know you before then. It will be more comfortable to have a friend at the ball, don't you agree?"
Taya gave him a shy smile. "I think you could make anyone feel like a friend, exalted."
"Alister. Call me Alister, but feel free to flatter me all you want, because I adore flattery." His green eyes twinkled. "Were you also taught that diplomats should flatter exalteds?"
"No! And I'm not a diplomat yet. I just took my exams a few weeks ago. I might not be accepted."
"So, you're still waiting for the board to make up its mind. I detested waiting for my examination scores at the University. I detest ambiguity of any sort. That was another reason I wanted to get to know you. Let the rest of Primus wonder what kind of person you are — I'll know first." He sounded like a mischievous child, and Taya couldn't help but grin.
"Will that matter, exa — Alister?"
"Only to me, but I'll take great satisfaction in it." He cocked his head. "Why do you want to become a diplomat? It can be dangerous work, and you might be sent away from the city to work in a foreign embassy, if you're especially unfortunate."
"No, that would be perfect! I'd love to see another country. Wouldn't it be wonderful to see Mareaux's famous vineyards, or a Demican bear hunt, or the Cabiel jungles?"
"I see. You're a true-born icarus, full of soaring dreams and aspirations."
"Haven't you ever been out of Ondinium?"
"I'm not permitted. Everyone who studies programming at the University signs a contract swearing to remain in the city. I've heard rumors of an elite group of lictors that is sent after escaped programmers to bring them back — dead or alive."
"No!" She stared at him. The story sounded like something Pyke would tell her. "Really?"
"I'm not making it up. Well, I am embroidering, a little. I expect the lictors are quite ordinary, and I imagine they would prefer to bring the wayward programmer back alive. Still, programmers are required by law to spend their life in Ondinium, in order to keep the city's technological secrets intact."
"Then you'll never leave?"
"I don't want to leave. I can enjoy the same wines and bearskins and jungle fruit here that I would in any other country. ‘All roads lead to Ondinium,’ after all." Humor lines crinkled around his eyes. "Now you'll think I'm boring and lose all interest in me."
"No. I love Ondinium, too. But I'd like to see more than wires and smog. I'd like to fly over an ice field or an ocean before I die."
"You must have been a merchant or a soldier in your last life."
"Or a bird. A lot of icarii think they used to be birds." She took a sip of the wine, then set it back down again. It tasted all right, but she'd feel more comfortable with a plain ale — something she was used to drinking.
"If you were a bird in a past life, you would have been one of those little hunting hawks I see carried by Mareauxan ambassadors," Alister speculated. "Red-headed and neatly trimmed, agile and fierce."
"Now who's being flattering?" she scolded him.
"Not at all, Taya Hawk."
"I'm a hawk without my wings right now."
"Just for tonight. I look forward to seeing you in your wings again the next time you come to Oporphyr Tower."
Taya looked down, reminded of her flight suit. "I'm sorry about the suit… I don't have anything formal to wear to dinner."
"Don't apologize. You look charming. Remember, I belong to a caste in which everyone hides their bodies under layers of heavy robes." Alister gestured to the glittering lapels stacked three-deep on his chest. "I'm enjoying the privilege of being able to sit here and ogle your legs without giving offense."
Taya laughed again. Cassi would enjoy hearing that. "Traveling to the lower sectors must be a real thrill for you, then."
"It would be if all the castes decided to adopt form-hugging fashions. Perhaps the Council should make it a law."
"Do you… do exalteds always dress so formally, even in their own homes?" Taya looked with open curiosity at his clothes, deciding that after his jokes he could hardly protest if she stared. Not that he seemed like the kind of man who'd object to being admired. "Isn't it hard to get any work done?"
"We wear lighter robes at home. Just one or two, made out of softer fabrics with less decoration." He tapped a flower spray embroidered across his top robe; small garnets picked out the shape of a bouquet of roses. "These are just for wearing in public. We have to be very careful when we choose them. One only purchases a robe that has gemstones sewn across the rear once."
"Sitting down in wings isn't much easier."
"I see we both suffer for our caste."
"What about your hair? Do you dress it when you're at home, too?"
He seemed amused. "Not as elaborately. If I intend to spend all day inside, I simply pull it back."
Taya nodded, imagining him in a light, open robe that would show off his well-built frame and dark copper skin, a curtain of black hair hanging loose over his shoulders. She felt a pleasant tingle. He was handsome in his exalted's jewels, but….
A smile played on his lips as he watched her, and she dragged her thoughts away, afraid he might see them in her eyes.
Besides
, she sternly reminded herself,
I'm not that kind of icarus
She'd never been able to shake off all her famulate ideas about respectability.
"And what do you wear in private, Taya?" he asked, with a teasing smile on his lips.
"Nothing very exciting. Trousers and a tunic, most of the time," she admitted, thinking for the first time that maybe Cassi was right and she dressed too plainly. "I was born on Tertius, so I'm used to wearing clothes for efficiency, not looks. But I'm having a dress made for the party," she added, hastily.
"Good. You look charming in that suit, but I'll see more of you in a dress."
"What will you wear?" she asked. "Your robes hide just as much as this suit."
His green eyes gleamed.
"As much as I would enjoy showing off for you, I'd scandalize Caster if I arrived in anything other than formal attire. I'm afraid that if you want to see me in casual clothes, you'll have to accept a dinner invitation to my house."
"I don't think I'd dare." She felt a thrill, knowing that she was on dangerous ground.
"I could invite a friend to chaperone us, if you insisted," he said at once, pretending disappointment.
Taya was saved from answering by a knock on the door. At Alister's summons, the servant came in, bearing a platter of food. The famulate had to make three trips from the antechamber before all the food was in. Taya wanted to leap up to help, but she forced herself to sit still, like someone accustomed to being served.
"Would you want anything else, exalted?" the servant asked, bowing. The woman didn't take any special pains to avoid looking at Alister's bare face, although for the most part she kept her eyes downcast. Another concession to everyday practicality, Taya thought, like the abbreviated bows and salutes in Oporphyr Tower.
"No, that's all, thank you."
The servant withdrew, closing the door again. Taya and Alister began to investigate the dishes, Alister recommending his favorites. Taya took a little of each. Most of the food was fancier than anything she'd ever eaten on her own.
"Do you know who's going to be at the party?" she asked, between helpings.
"The decaturs will all be present, and their families. Some of Viera's and Caster's friends, of course, and the usual political allies who are invited to every Octavus party as a matter of form." Alister named a few people whose names she recognized from her diplomatic studies and the city papers.
"You said that Viera's your cousin… will any of the rest of your family be there?"
"Viera and my brother are all the family I have, and Cristof never comes to parties."
"Because he's outcaste?"
"He's not, you know. Outcaste. He's chosen to live outside of his caste, but he's never been legally turned away." Alister's expression darkened.
"Then he could come to the party."
"He could, if he wanted. But he hated parties even before he left Primus. Cris never mastered the social graces, and now he's something of a scandal. Viera and I invite him up regularly — he's family, after all — but he almost always declines."
"Maybe he's trying not to embarrass you," Taya said, remembering what Cristof had said earlier that day.
"He doesn't embarrass me. I love him. I wish he would realize that."
"Does he get along with Exalted Octavus?"
"With Viera, yes. Our parents… our parents died when we were young, and Viera's family took us in. We're more like brothers and sister than cousins. But Caster's a traditionalist. He doesn't approve of Cristof breaking the rules of his caste, and even Vee's a little worried that he'll give Ariq strange ideas. It won't be too long before Ariq's seven, and then he'll have to start wearing a mask, himself. It wouldn't do for him to think that Cristof's behavior is normal and try to take off his mask in public."
"You don't think your brother's normal?"
"My brother is anything but normal." Alister laughed. "Don't get me wrong, little hawk. He's not insane. But it isn't normal for an exalted to cut his hair and take off his mask and move down to Tertius to live with the plebs." He sobered. "Cris has a bad temper. It's better for all of us that he went to live someplace where he can surround himself with machines instead of people.
"Why — why did he leave?"
Alister shook his head.
"I wish I knew. I think every exalted has daydreamed about throwing away the mask at one time or another. Caste restrictions can become tiresome. I'd love to go flying on a pair of metal wings without worrying that my bare skin might be seen by a stranger. Maybe you'll take me, someday? But Cristof's the only exalted I know who has ever acted upon the dream. Lady, the uproar he caused! I couldn't believe it, the day he cut off his hair — he hacked it short with a pair of scissors, all by himself. It was horrible."
Taya tried to put herself in Alister's place, to feel his shock, but there wasn't anything comparable in icarus life. Icarii were free to wear whatever they wanted, to style their hair any way they wanted, to do whatever they wanted — as long as they carried out their duties. The central caste restriction on an icarus was to serve the city and its residents with loyalty and responsibility. Even if an icarus couldn't fly, for some reason, there was almost always a groundling job available in the eyries or docks, sorting mail or repairing armatures.
"My brother set up a small shop down in Tertius, buried in a basement where nobody can find it. I don't know why he hides himself down there — maybe he's ashamed of himself, after all. He could have made himself a celebrity. I would have, if had been in his place. I would have traded on my castemark and the scandal and made myself the darling of the gossip columns and fashionable salons. But Cristof keeps to himself, and most of the city doesn't even know that one of our caste has defected."
"I think I feel sorry for him," Taya said, at last. "It's awful, never fitting in."
"You have a kind heart." Alister's voice gentled. "Especially considering how he scolded you. He wasn't very polite to a weary icarus who had just saved his cousin's life."
"He wasn't so bad, later. I mean, he's not nice," Taya elaborated, "but I think he's well-mannered, behind that sharp tongue of his."
"I should hope he is. When did you meet him again?"
Taya related the story of the attack the night before, but she didn't tell him that she'd returned to the clockwright's shop that afternoon to accuse Cristof of being a bomber. Alister's brother had enough problems without her casting any undue suspicion on him.
"I'm surprised he helped you," Alister said, when she was through. He sounded puzzled. "Cris is such a gearhead… it's hard to imagine that he'd have the stomach to shoot a mugger. And where did he ever get an air pistol? But I suppose he's had to grow bolder, living on Tertius."
"It can be a dangerous place," Taya agreed.
"And you should be more careful when you go down there, too." Alister leaned forward to touch the back of her hand, looking at the scabs across her knuckles. "I'll add my voice to his in insisting the lictate investigate the mugging. Lately, they've been more concerned with hunting down terrorists like the Torn Cards, but attacking an icarus is a serious crime, too. And who knows; the two crimes could be linked. The king of Alzana has a number of spies funneling money to Ondinium's radical elements, hoping to unbalance the Council. He'd love to possess one of our armatures."
"Your brother doesn't trust Alzana, either." Taya realized Alister's fingers were still resting on the back of her hand.
Lady, he really is flirting with me
, she thought, torn between pleasure and panic.
"We both lost a dear friend to Alzana's conflict with Ondinium." Alister sighed. "But let's not talk about unpleasant matters. Tell me about your family."
Taya allowed him to change the subject, and their conversation wove back and forth as they ate, touching on families and friends, favorite foods and books. A loud knock on the door startled them both.
"The coach is here, exalted," the servant announced, without opening the door.
Alister slipped a watch from a hidden pocket inside his sleeve and opened it.
"Forgefire, I should have told him to come back in three hours," he muttered. He raised his voice. "Buy him a drink and tell him Taya will be out in a few minutes."
"Yes, exalted."
"I'm sorry," Alister apologized. "We haven't even had an after-dinner drink yet."
"That's all right. I have to fly early tomorrow." Taya eyed his watch. "Did your brother make that?"
Alister unhooked the chain and handed it to her. "He did."
The decatur's watch was gold, too, but the case had been engraved with a fancy sun-and-moon pattern, with an inlay of white and red metal. Taya opened it the way Cristof had shown her. The watch face was a shiny black surface filigreed in silver and gold, showing a repetition of the celestial pattern. Tiny diamonds marked the hours and looked like twinkling stars.
The vibration felt the same as Cristof's watch; like the steady beat of a tiny heart.
"Did you choose the design?" Taya asked, looking up.
"More or less. Cris said he'd make me a watch as a graduation present and asked what I wanted. I told him I'd like a sun on it, but he's the one who designed the pattern for the jeweler. That's platinum and red gold, and the face is an ondium and iron alloy. I didn't ask how he got his hands on ondium. Through the black market, I expect. He said it's perfectly counterweighted — if I ever took out the face and let it go, it would float without moving."
"It's beautiful."
"I'm sure it cost him a fortune, but since he barely touches his inheritance, I imagine our accountants didn't complain too much."
"He must love you a lot, to make you a present like this." Taya handed it back.
"Well, we're brothers." Alister tucked it into his sleeve, looking thoughtful. "Will you forgive me if I don't escort you to the door? I'd have to put on my overrobe and mask, and I wouldn't even be able to say good-bye."
"Of course. I understand." She bowed, pressing her palm against her forehead. "Thank you for dinner and the pleasant conversation, exalted. You've been very kind."
He grabbed her hand as she straightened and brought it to his lips, smiling as he kissed her fingers. Taya squirmed a little, meeting his eyes and melting at the humor and warmth she saw in their green depths.
"Nor could I do that in a mask and robes," he said, squeezing her hand.
"You're going to make it very awkward for us to meet again in Oporphyr Tower," she said, her heart pounding.
"I know how to admire from afar. I just don't enjoy it." He released her with a show of reluctance. "I intend to see you again. Before my cousin's party, if I can possibly clear my calendar."
"I'd like that." She stepped back. "Good night, exalted."
"Alister."
"Alister."
He called in his servant, who escorted Taya through the antechamber and out to the front door. Gregor was waiting outside, finishing an ale. He handed it back to the servant when he saw Taya.
"Eat well, then?" he asked, opening the coach door. Taya looked inside and sighed.
"Too well. I don't think I can stand being jolted around inside that stuffy box again, Gregor. Can I ride on top with you?"
"The exalted would have my head if he found out, he would."
"Don't be silly." Taya examined the side of the coach, gauging how to climb up. "Please? I ride on top or I walk."
The coachman sighed, closed the door, and helped her up.
The next day Taya went back to work, pleased to find her wings repaired. None of her deliveries took her to Oporphyr Tower, but Alister sent a note to the dispatch office, thanking her for a lovely evening and apologizing for not being able to get out of his obligations that evening. Taya felt a moment's regret, then tucked the note into one of her flight-suit pockets and finished her day's work.
On the day after that, she was amused to find a message asking for her by name, ordering her to fly to Exalted Forlore's office to pick up a package for the University. Alister did have a package for her, but he kept her chatting with him for half an hour, shamelessly flirting and begging her to take him flying with her someday. Taya promised to make some inquiries. The dock kept a special set of wings for visitors, but they were usually reserved to entertain foreign ambassadors who didn't have to worry about caste propriety. She didn't know what it would involve to borrow them for an exalted. They'd have to go somewhere remote, where he could fly without a mask and not be seen.
"I don't trust him," Pyke declared, after she told Cassi about the day's meeting. They were sitting at their usual table in the eyrie dining room, their voices pitched low to keep the rest of the icarii from overhearing. "He's moving too fast."
"Too fast?" Cassi rolled her eyes. "Dinner and a chat in his office is hardly ‘too fast.’ It's a perfectly respectable pace."
"But all this flirting…."
"Is fine, as long as Taya doesn't mind. You should try flirting, Pyke. Girls like to be flattered, you know."
"Alister flirts well," Taya said, smiling at the memory of his lingering touches and long gazes. "It's harmless."
"And if he goes beyond flirting?"
"Then she's a lucky girl," Cassi said, with finality.
"I don't know," Taya admitted. "I don't know if he's just having fun or if he's sincere."
"How can you possibly like a man you don't trust?" Pyke exclaimed.
"It's not that I don't trust him! I just don't know him well yet. But I'm having fun. If he wants to keep flirting and flattering until we're both old and grey, that's fine. But it would be kind of nice to know what he's thinking."
"And if he is serious? Do you really think a cross-caste relationship between an exalted and an icarus can work out?"
"I guess it depends on what you mean by ‘work out,'" Taya murmured. She'd been wondering the same thing.
"Well, that's the point, isn't it?" Pyke retorted. "We all know what people think about icarii. What if he uses you as a bed partner for a few months and then gets bored and moves on?"
"That might not be so bad," Cassi pointed out. "The exalted is handsome, rich, powerful, and charming. What makes you think Taya doesn't want a little no-strings-attached fun?"
Pyke scowled. "Taya's not that kind of girl!"
"Quiet," Taya said, reaching across the table to touch his wrist. Other icarii were glancing at them.
"If you're going to act like a jealous ex, go away," Cassi said, piqued. "Taya needs friendly advice, not offended masculinity."
"My friendly advice is to leave him alone," Pyke growled.
"And my friendly advice is to enjoy yourself and see what happens." Cassilta gave her an envious look. "Why doesn't some handsome exalted chase after me? I can't even attract an annoying conspiracy theorist." She kicked Pyke, who muttered under his breath.
"Taya Icarus?"
The three of them looked up at the icarus in the doorway. All the other icarii in the room raised their arms and pointed in their direction.
Taya stood and led the messenger out to the parlor. He wore a military corps insignia on his flight leathers. That made sense — courier icarii didn't fly at night, unless they were caught out past sunset or there was an emergency. Which meant —
"Is it my father?" she asked, fearfully. "Did something happen to my family?"
"Not that I know of." He handed her the note. "You're the Taya who rescued Exalted Octavus?"
"Yes." She unfolded the message, then breathed a sigh of relief. It was from Lt. Amcathra, telling her that a wounded Demican had been reported by one of the Tertius physicians and arrested on suspicion of being her mugger. The lieutenant wanted her to identify him.
"That was good work," the other icarus said with approval. "Have you ever thought about joining the military corps? You've got the guts for it."
"Actually, I just took the diplomacy exams. When you walked in, I thought you were bringing my results."
"They'll be delivered to your dispatch office. Diplomacy, huh? Too bad. If it doesn't work out, keep us in mind. You wouldn't need to memorize all that cultural scrap, and we could use a talented flier like you."
"Thanks." She nodded, although she didn't think she could take a job where she might have to kill someone. Just looking at Lt. Amcathra's note made her feel guilty all over again. "Does the lictor want me right now?"
"Of course he does. He's at Tallyfield Station. You want to walk, or should I get your wings from the docks?"
"I can walk down there in the time it would take you to sign out my wings," she said, with a touch of regret. "Tell him I'm on my way. Do they have the man in custody?"
"I don't know anything about it," he said, shrugging. "None of my business."
"Oh. Well, thank you. Fly safely."
"You too." He waved and ducked through the doorway. Taya told her friends where she was going, then ran upstairs to grab her coat and gloves.
The walk down Cliff Road was cold and long, but Secundus was still lively in the early evening, with people dining and drinking, attending plays and hurrying to friends’ houses. In half an hour she was at Tallyfield Plaza, where the lictor station was lit by bright gas lamps and filled with guards hurrying in and out.
She stood a moment in the main foyer, blinking and pulling off her gloves.
"Icarus." Lt. Amcathra stepped out of an office and beckoned to her. "Very good. I require you to look at the face of the prisoner and tell me if he is the man who attacked you."
"Is he here?"
"He is in a hospital within the vicinity. His health is not good, or else I do not think we should have found him." The lictor grabbed a coat from one of the chairs along the hallway and pulled it on, striding outside.
"How bad is it?"
"Not good."
"Oh. You're handling the case, then? I thought you'd be investigating the wireferry accident."
"That investigation is also in progress."
"You must be the lictor who gets all the tough jobs," she joked, hurrying to keep up with him as he walked. He didn't answer, and although she studied his face, his black lictor's stripe and Demican stolidity made his expression impossible to read.
Deciding she'd get nowhere trying to engage him in small talk, Taya concentrated on following him through the crowds.
The hospital was a small private building tucked away in a back street. As soon as they entered it, Taya realized that it was under military control, with barred windows and lictors stationed at the doors. One of the lictors unlocked the door that led into the Demican's hospital room.
"That's him," Taya said at once, recognizing her attacker's face in the lamplight. Then she stepped forward, alarmed. He was breathing irregularly, and he looked pale. "What's wrong?"
"Infection."
"Oh, Lady." She felt a chill. "Was it—"
"The knife wound was deep, and he did not have it tended at once."
"Is he going to die?"
"I do not know. I am certain the physicians will do what they can." Amcathra sounded uninterested.
The Demican prisoner opened his eyes and looked straight at her. Taya recoiled, and Amcathra's hand fell on her arm, moving her aside. He stepped up to the bedside and looked down at his ancestral countryman.
"This icarus has positively identified you as the man who attacked her," he snapped, in Demican. "Do you understand me?"
The wounded man took a labored breath.
"I understand."
"You were working with two Alzanans."
"They left me to die."
"Of course," Amcathra agreed. "What else would you expect from a Southerner? A warrior should choose honorable companions, not thieves."
"I am shamed." The man fought for breath again, lips pale. "Please do not tell my family."
"Who were your partners?"
"Delfo," the man husked. "And Miceli. Delfo had the net. Leader."
"Where did you meet them?"
"A bar in Slagside. Red door."
"Name?"
"I do not know."
Amcathra nodded.
"Very well. I will return with an artist for a better description later. Rest and heal, warrior. You may live to regain your honor, if you are lucky."
The man nodded once and closed his eyes. Taya slipped next to Amcathra and touched the man's hand.
"You fought well," she said, also in Demican.
The man pried his eyes open once more, looking at her.
"And you," he replied, formally. "But the gun. That is not a warrior's weapon."
"It will be," Amcathra predicted, and then drew her away. "Come," he said, switching back to Ondinium. "Let him rest. I do not believe he will trouble you again."
Taya waited until they were outside. "Will he go free, if you catch the Alzanans?"
"That will depend upon the judge. Maybe he will die of his wounds."
Taya made a face at the Demican's cold pragmatism. "I hope not."
"You will not be found at fault, if he does. Your testimony and that of Exalted Forlore makes it clear that you acted in self defense."
"Forlore — you mean, Alister? The decatur?"
"No."
"Cristof?"
"Yes. I will ask him to identify the man tomorrow, also, but it is only to be thorough."
She made a face. "Icarii get called away from their dinners, but exalteds get to wait until morning?"
"Victims are called without delay, and secondary witnesses are allowed to wait until the next day," Amcathra corrected her. "Exalted Forlore's testimony is of less importance than yours."
"I'm sorry," Taya said at once. "That makes sense."
"You will tell your friend that we did not beat or brainwash you or your attacker."
Taya laughed. "I said I was sorry! But yes, I'll tell him."
"You were kind to compliment the prisoner's fighting, though he does not deserve such honor."
"Well, he probably would have killed me, if… if Exalted Forlore hadn't come along and shot him."
"Someday guns will come to Demicus," Amcathra said, with a touch of regret in his voice. "Every Demican will kill with the twitch of a finger, and a warrior's bravery will mean nothing."
"Ondinium doesn't sell arms."
"Not all countries are so cautious. If our elders are wise, they will seek guidance from the Council of Ondinium before Demicus embraces foreign weapons."
"They wouldn't do that, would they? I thought Demicans believed Ondinium is hell." Demican legends of hell included stories of black skies and flying spirits.
"Ondinium may be hell, but it is an orderly hell. Demicus will not be so orderly, once guns arrive."