The day before the party passed quickly, with a note from Alister apologizing for not being able to see her but assuring her that he was looking forward to a dance. On the day of the ball, Taya and Cassi took a half-day off so Taya could return to Jayce's shop for last-minute tailoring and grooming.
"Good, good," Jayce murmured, seeing them come in shortly after noon, accompanied by a famulate hairdresser. "We're still finishing the sewing, but I'm glad you're here early."
"Do you have plans for Taya's hair?" Cassi demanded, pushing Taya down into a chair.
"Nothing that requires a particular style."
"Good."
"Bad," the hairdresser objected. "Look at how short this is! What am I supposed to do with it, then?"
"Make it gorgeous." Cassi turned to her nephew and began grilling him about the dress. The hairdresser rolled her eyes and combed her fingers through Taya's loose curls.
"Well," she said, "at least the color is interesting. I don't work with auburn very often. Mareaux, are you?"
"On my father's side. He was born a citizen," she added. To some Ondiniums, that mattered.
"Good you inherited his fair skin, then, ain't it?" the hairdresser commented, holding her coppery hand against Taya's hair. "Could be worse."
"I'm glad I'm not a complete disaster," Taya said.
"But it could be better," Jayce shot over his shoulder. "You could have green eyes. Or blue. I could work with blue. But red hair and jet-black eyes? Lady save us from mixed blood. And your figure!"
Taya slumped in her chair. All right. So she was a complete disaster.
By the time evening arrived, Taya understood why vigilante heroes in plays wore masks. She'd been poked, pinched, pinned, primped and put down to within an inch of her life. The next time she rescued someone, she was going to sneak off without telling anyone her name. That way she wouldn't have to dress up for a thank-you party.
"I can't do this," she said with despair, setting down the bowl of soup that Cassi had handed her. "I'm going to say something stupid and embarrass myself."
"Oh, don't be silly. You're the guest of honor." Cassi leaned over and patted her knee. "Exalted Octavus owes you her life, so short of throwing up all over the banquet table, there's nothing you can do that's going to offend her."
"Great." Taya looked at her bowl. "Is that why you're making me eat now? So I won't throw up?"
"No. I'm doing it because you're not going to be able to eat a thing once we strap you into that corset. Besides, it's more ladylike if all you do is nibble."
"Ladylike." Taya groaned. "I don't think I can do ladylike."
"You will do ladylike," Cassi's nephew commanded, in a voice like steel. He walked up, the dress draped over one arm. "You don't have a choice. Cassi, I'm going to sew her into this. You'll have to cut her out of it tonight. Use the back seam."
"So much for seducing that handsome decatur," Cassi said with mock sorrow.
Taya's cheeks burned.
"Once you're out of this dress, you're not getting back into it." Jayce pondered a moment. "However… it would be good for business if you seduced a decatur while you were wearing it. Very well. I give you my permission. But you'll have to wear something of his to get back home. And for the Lady's sake, bring me back whatever scraps you can salvage."
"I'm not going to seduce anyone!" Taya protested, her blush deepening.
"Well, I'm sleeping on your bed tonight," Cassi warned her, "so if you don't come home, I expect to hear all the details."
"What kind of person do you think I am, anyway?"
"A sexually deprived one," Cassi said, archly. "You and Pyke never got anywhere."
Taya drew in a sharp breath. "Did he tell you that? I'll kill him!"
"Ah-hah! It's true!"
"Cassi!"
"I was just checking," her friend said, sounding complacent. "I don't want to sleep with someone you've already slept with. It'd be tacky."
"Ladies," Jayce snarled, "we have two hours until the party. Divvy up your men while I sew."
One hour before the party, Taya stood in front of a mirror feeling more frightened than she had at any point during the aerial rescue.
"I don't dare move," she said, staring at herself.
Jayce and his assistants had decided to dress her in white and gold because "exalts always wear jewel tones. I want you to stand out." The top half of the dress was a slender, low-necked sheath that hugged her chest and waist like a second skin, growing looser on her hips to become a slit skirt that gave her room to walk. A tight corset beneath the dress kept her back straight and pulled her waist in another inch. Taya blinked at the unaccustomed sight of her cleavage being pushed up and out. Maybe she wasn't as flat-chested as Jayce had led her to believe. Of course, she couldn't breathe, but she thought the trade-off might be worth it.
Jayce had sewn a tight but delicate line of gold-edged white feathers up the dress, coiling along the bottom hem, over one hip, between her breasts, and up the low neckline to her shoulder. The dress straps were as slender as he could make them and still cover the healing wound on her shoulder, and her arms were bare.
She turned and looked over her shoulder. The line of feathers wound down to her waist to complete the circle around her body. Every time she moved, feathers rustled against each other and the feathers over her shoulders brushed her bare arm. The sensation was strange but pleasant.
Jayce had insisted she wear long white gloves to cover the healing cuts on her knuckles and to make her bare upper arms more striking. He'd found long, soft crosslaced white boots for her legs that hinted at an icarus's much more utilitarian footwear, and he'd run a line of white feathers down their sides. "Unusual. A little defiant," Jayce had said with approval, looking at her. "They'll be easy to dance in, and the fabric hides your calves."
"What's wrong—"
"'Muscles aren't ladylike.'" Cassi rolled her eyes at Taya. "Don't pay any attention to him. Jay-jay likes his women plump and cuddly."
"A man who prefers women with hard bodies might as well sleep with another man," Jayce retorted. Cassilta swatted her nephew across the head.
"Watch it, brat. Chicks might be cuter than eagles, but it's the eagles who bring home the dinner and defend the nest."
"Barbarian." Jayce placed a delicate gold net over Taya's hair and began weaving white and gold feathers into it, pulling them behind her ears. Taya stood motionless, watching as he created narrow, swooping wings from brow to nape. Cassi had already done her face for her, pulling a surprising number of tiny jars from her purse.
"You carry all this with you?" Taya had asked, amazed, holding up a small jar of lip paint.
"You don't?" Cassi had countered.
Now they both looked at her reflection as Jayce stepped back.
"That is a completely outrageous dress," Cassi said with delight. "I've never seen anything like it. Jaws are going to drop."
"I don't know about this," Taya fretted. She hardly recognized herself. She looked like she'd just stepped off the stage of some fairy-tale opera. Alister's joke about exalteds and their layers of embroidered robes returned to her, and she wondered how much of a scandal she'd cause, showing off her figure so brazenly at an exalted party. "Maybe I should wear something that… covers more."
"Covers more? You're an icarus!" Jayce reached forward to tease curls of her hair down around her face. "Freedom defines the icarus caste. You don't want to wear the same dowdy fashions the cardinal or plebeian castes would wear. And if there's one thing exalteds aren't, it's free. Besides, you're too small to carry off their heavy robes." He regarded her with satisfaction. "This sets a new standard for icarus fashion. I'm a genius."
"You're a genius, kid," Cassi agreed, hugging her nephew and ruffling his hair. "Now come on; let's see if Taya's coach is here."
Estate Octavus stood on the highest street in Primus sector, surrounded by other exalteds’ mansions. The street's cobbles were flat and smooth, laid together like pieces of a puzzle, and the gas lamps were small masterpieces of ironwork that stood every twenty feet to keep the neighborhood bright. Taya had visited the street before, but only to deliver messages. The mansions’ peaked, slate-tiled roofs and forbidding iron gates looked more much imposing when she approached them at ground level.
Carriages blocked the road, and everywhere she looked, masked and robed exalts were flowing into the estate, followed by liveried servants.
Peering out the window of Gregor's coach, Taya touched her lips, worried. Was she going to be mistaken for a servant, showing up at the party without a mask? Then she pulled her fingers away before she could disturb all the work Cassi had done. To give her hands something to do, she stroked the soft velvet cloak Jayce had let her borrow for the night.
Lady, what am I doing here?
She twitched the window curtain back even farther, impressed by the sight of ivory and gold masks glittering in the lamplight, of silk and silver hems sliding over spotless streets. Long embroidered sleeves hung well over the exalteds’ fingertips, and only their long glossy hair, caught up around their heads in complicated braids and loops, revealed that the creatures beneath the masks might be human.
"Ostentatious incapacitation," Pyke had called exalteds’ garments. Baroque, mouthless masks to prove they didn't need to give orders. Heavy, movement-inhibiting garments to prove they didn't need to run or carry. Everything an exalted might need to say or do in public was anticipated by their perfectly trained lower-caste servants. And if it wasn't, there was nothing the exalted could do about it without outraging tradition.
The way Viera Octavus had briefly outraged it, when she'd abandoned her mask and robe to lift her child to safety.
Despite Pyke's scorn for the exalteds, Taya thought the sight of so many masked and robed aristocrats was eerie and majestic. Very few people were privileged to see behind the masks, which gave exalteds an air of mystique that the nobility of other countries lacked. Maybe that's why other countries had so many revolutions. People there took their rulers for granted. Exalteds, by contrast, stood apart from the rest of humanity by virtue of their birth and their rules of conduct.
A footman approached her coach and spoke to Gregor, then tapped on the door.
"Taya Icarus?"
She drew in a deep breath.
"I'm here," she replied, as he opened the door. The cold autumn air made her pull her cloak close around her.
The footman blinked once, startled by her uninked face, and then bowed.
"May I escort you to the door? Lady Octavus told us to bring you in as soon as you arrived."
"Thank you." She took his hand and let him help her out of the coach, grateful for his assistance. Sitting and standing in a tight dress wasn't a maneuver she'd ever needed to practice before.
"Good luck, icarus," Gregor called out. "The man there says your transportation home's been taken care of already."
She turned and waved.
"Thank you, Gregor."
He gave her a cheery salute.
Heads turned as they walked through the street and entered the estate gates. Taya shivered under her cloak, feeling naked compared to all the covered guests around her.
Well, there's no turning back now
, she thought, squaring her shoulders.
If nothing else, this dress will confirm the fast-and-loose reputation of icarii everywhere
.
The doors were wide open and the foyer was lit by a thousand wax candles placed on high shelves and chandeliers, well above the long sleeves and dragging hems of the exalteds’ heavy robes. Gold-framed mirrors reflected the light and the guests in an endless regression that made Taya dizzy. She swallowed as jeweled, featureless masks turned to watch her.
The footman led her through the foyer to the inner doors.
"May I take your cloak?" he asked. She glanced around and saw that here, safely away from the street, exalteds were shedding their public robes and pulling off their ivory masks, laughing and greeting each other like normal people.
"Of course." She pulled off the velvet cloak that had seemed so luxurious in Jayce's shop but now struck her as thin and tawdry compared to the exalteds’ garments.
It doesn't matter
, she reminded herself.
Nobody expects me to dress like an exalted.
I hope.
Heads turned as the footman took it and revealed her bare upper arms and daring décolletage.
Bracing herself, Taya stepped inside the reception room, composing herself just as she would if she were on duty. Strangers turned to stare at her. For a moment she froze, wondering what to do.
A woman broke away from the crowd, and Taya recognized her hostess, Viera Octavus.
"Taya Icarus," she said, her strong voice carrying through the chamber. "We are honored that you have come."
Light applause greeted her words. Taya kept her gaze fixed on the woman as she walked across the ballroom floor. They met in the center of the ballroom and Viera grasped her hands, leaning forward to rest one blue-tattooed cheek against hers.
"Thank you," the exalted said, and then dropped her voice to a whisper. "Don't look so nervous."
Taya gave the exalted a crooked smile as they separated. Was it that obvious? Viera slid an arm through hers, leading her back to her husband, a tall, patrician man with silver hair and a lined face. Taya compared him to his wife. The decatur had married a much younger woman.
"Caster," Viera said, "this is Taya Icarus."
The elderly decatur smiled at her. Taya bowed, touching her gloved palm to her forehead.
"I am pleased to meet you, Taya." When she straightened, Caster took her hand and held it a moment. "I cannot thank you enough for saving the two most important people in my life."
This time Taya didn't start, and she was glad Alister had accustomed her to being touched by the upper-caste.
"I was just—" she remembered the fictional interview in
The Watchmen and deliberately chose different words. "It was my pleasure, exalted."
"I doubt it was a pleasure, icarus, but I am grateful nonetheless. Come. I'll introduce you to the rest of the Council."
He took her arm and led her away, Viera on his other side. Taya was glad that her gloves kept her palms from sweating on Caster Octavus's embroidered silk sleeve.
Lady, please don't let me embarrass myself or my hosts.
Some of the decaturs Caster introduced her to were familiar — men and women whose messages she'd carried over the years. None of them had ever asked her for her name when she'd worn her icarus wings, and none of them recognized her now as they shook her hand.
Only Decatur Forlore smiled at her like a friend.
"I've had the honor of meeting Taya several times," Alister said, bowing over her hand. His fingers seemed to burn through the fabric of her glove. "She's always impressed me in the past, but tonight she's rendered me speechless."
"You've never been speechless in your entire life, Al," Viera teased. Her cousin ignored her, still holding Taya's hand and smiling.
Taya felt a blush creeping up her face. The decatur's eyes were intense, their emerald depths set off by his dark green outer robe, which was patterned with coiling vines. His under robes were lighter shades of green and lavender. Gold glittered on his fingers and in his hair, making him gleam like one of the Lady's immortal spirits themselves.
"On the contrary, Viera, tonight I have no words to express myself, for my steel-winged hawk has transformed herself into a silken swan." Alister lifted her hand and brushed the back of her glove with his lips.
"Enough, Alister. Taya has other guests to meet tonight," Caster said. Taya glanced at him, wondering she'd heard a trace of censure in the older man's voice. Alister released her, but she felt his eyes on her back as the Octavuses led her to the next decatur.
She hardly heard any of the other introductions, bemused by Alister's touch. Lady, he was handsome!
After Taya had been introduced to the entire Council, Viera reclaimed her and led her away.
"I promised Ariq I would take you to visit him tonight."
"I'd love to see him again." Taya followed the exalted through a small side door. "But does he really want to meet me? Our flight scared him."
"He was terrified," Viera agreed. "But then, so was I." Her eyes twinkled. "It took him a few hours to begin enjoying all the fuss being made over him. That's when he started bragging about how he went flying with you. Now I think he's completely forgotten his tears."
"I'm glad he's all right."
"Yes. By the way, you look lovely. Is that an icarus dress? I've never seen anything like it before."
Taya looked down, embarrassed. "Yes. It's an icarus dress."
"It's very flattering. I wish I had the freedom to wear something other than these layers of fabric every day."
Taya glanced at her. Viera, like the other women in the ballroom, wore several light silk robes in contrasting colors. The hems brushed her ankles, much higher than the dragging hems exalteds wore out in public — tailored for dancing, Taya assumed. Viera's outer robe was a deep blue, and her interior robes were rich saffron and crimson.
"If I could have come in my flight suit and wings, I would have," Taya admitted.
"You would have disappointed every man in the room."
They passed through a small hallway and up the stairs to the house's living quarters. Ariq was in his nursery, being read to by a famulate-caste nanny.
"Mommy!" The boy leaped up and ran to his mother. "You look pretty tonight, Mommy."
Viera leaned over and hugged him, then turned him around to face Taya.
"This is Taya Icarus, the woman who saved us," she said, her hands on the boy's shoulders. "I promised I would bring her up to see you before you went to sleep."
Ariq looked at her with open curiosity.
"Where are your wings?"
"I took them off for the party." Taya knelt, mentally cursing the corset for making bending over impossible. "I'm happy to see you again, Ariq."
Viera nudged the boy, who held out his hand.
"Thank you for saving me," he said solemnly.
"You're very welcome," Taya replied, shaking his hand. "Perhaps we can go flying again someday, if your parents agree."
"Maybe…. "he said with hesitation. Taya smiled up at Viera, who laughed, kissed her son, and stood.
"Good night, sweetheart. Mind your nanny."
"Good night, Mommy."
Viera led them back, pausing in an antechamber to pour two glasses of golden wine.
"Could you really take him flying?" she asked.
"We have a few pairs of trainer wings and guide harnesses that we use to teach the new children." Taya was careful as she held her crystal goblet, aware of what Cassi's nephew would say if she spilled anything on her dress. "There's even an adult set for the occasional visitor who wants to try flying. Foreign diplomats, mostly. Not many Ondiniums want to go aloft." Except Alister, she thought, amused.
"I suppose those who do are chosen to be icarii during their Great Examination."
"Do you plan to have Ariq take the Exam?"
"Oh, no, of course not." Viera sounded distracted, and after a moment of silence she sat down. "Taya, you have heard that the wireferry accident has been blamed on the Torn Cards, haven't you?"
"Yes."
"I can't help but wonder if the accident had been meant for my husband. He would have been on that car yesterday, if his Council discussion hadn't been extended."
"Do the Torn Cards have any reason to hurt him?"
"I don't know why they would." Viera looked distressed. "Caster is one of the most conservative anti-programming voices on the Council; you would think the Torn Cards would approve of that. But it doesn't make any sense for them to try to kill me, either. I have no voice in the Council at all."
"It could have been a random act of terrorism. Or maybe the lictors were wrong, and it wasn't the Torn Cards." Taya remembered the question Cristof had asked her. "Did anyone else know that the three of you were supposed to be on that car?"
"Not all three of us were
The trip has been planned for several weeks, and our original plan was that Caster would come down to meet us at the gallery — one of our friends is holding an exhibit, and we had arranged to meet her for a private viewing." Viera looked troubled. "That morning, Caster had told me his meeting could run late, so I went up to the Tower with Ariq to see whether he was free. When it became clear he wouldn't be able to excuse himself, we headed back down by ourselves. But if everything had gone as planned… it could have been him on the wireferry."
"Has your husband considered hiring a bodyguard?"
"He's too proud for that. He has assigned extra lictors to us, but he doesn't want any protection for himself."
"I don't know what to say," Taya apologized, feeling awkward. "The fire at the refinery was blamed on the Torn Cards, too. Maybe it was just a day for random attacks."
"You didn't see anything suspicious around the ferry, did you?"
"No. But I wasn't looking for anything, either. It was just coincidence that I happened to be there."
Viera sighed. "I apologize. I don't mean to burden you with my concerns. I simply thought…"
"If I hear anything that might help, I'll tell you," Taya promised, just as she'd promised Lt. Amcathra. For a moment she thought again of Cristof's wireferry map, all marked in pencil — but no. Cristof wouldn't have hurt his cousin.
Alister's words returned to her:
"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."
No — that's unfair, Taya chided herself. She'd already accused Cristof of a crime once, and he'd given her a perfectly good explanation for his whereabouts. Just because he was eccentric didn't mean he was a killer.
"Thank you." Viera stood. "I had better return you to your admirers. I have no doubt that Alister is hoping for a dance after dinner."
"What's Alister like?" Taya asked, trying to keep her voice innocent as they entered the main room again.
"Oh, he's impossible." Viera shook her head with affectionate dismay. "He's an incorrigible flirt. He ought to be married by now, but ever since he became a decatur, he's been locked up with programmers and the Council all day. The girls used to flock around him when all he did was throw parties, but they consider a hard-working man to be a bore."
"Then he's not…"
"Engaged?" Viera flicked a quick glance at her. "No. I have never known Alister to be serious about any of his paramours. I don't think he's ready to go wife-hunting yet, although Caster and I would like him to settle down. He needs to, if he wishes to pursue a political career. A good marriage would help balance the fact that he's the Council's youngest decatur."
Taya sighed. Well, there was her answer, very delicately put. If she wanted a temporary romance, she could have it, but she shouldn't expect anything else. Alister would marry for political advantage, and that meant marrying another exalted.
Disappointing, but… she was an icarus. She could enjoy herself with a handsome decatur, if she wanted. Pyke would be upset, but it would only be offended pride, and he'd get over it. Alister would be fun, she had no doubt, and she also expected he'd accept an to the affair quietly and kindly.
She closed her eyes, shaking her head. Is that all she wanted?
The announcement of dinner saved her from having to make any difficult decisions.
She was seated at the long table between Caster Octavus and another senior decatur, across from Viera, and she hardly had time to think as the dinner conversation buzzed around her. Cassi had been right — she couldn't imagine doing anything more than nibbling at the meal while she was locked into her corset, even if she hadn't been terrified of spilling something on her dress. But nobody seemed to notice that she wasn't touching the dishes that were served in a dizzying array. The conversation whirled around her at an alarming pace, and although Taya did her best to keep up, more often than not it dealt with subjects like paintings and novels and operas that she'd never had the time or the money to enjoy. She fell silent, listening and marveling over how little she knew about the world.
Flight, languages, armature repair, geography, cartography — she knew about those subjects. She knew which gesture would offend a Cabiel merchant but amuse a Demican child, and how to tell when a storm was approaching, and where the most popular assignation house in the city was located. But none of those topics would serve her here.
"Taya, what is it like, soaring over Ondinium Mountain?" Viera asked, catching her eye. "Is it true that icarii have flown through clouds?"
"Have you ever seen any of the Lady's spirits up there flying with you?" asked another guest, laughing.
Taya smiled gratefully at Viera as she replied. When the talk veered to the next subject, she relaxed, glad that she'd been able to say something interesting, at least.
Alister caught up with her after dinner as the guests left the table.
"I'm here to claim the first dance," he said, sliding his arm under hers.
"Is that proper?" she asked, suddenly breathless.
"Who cares?" He pulled her closer, tucking her arm under his as they walked. His silk robe was soft and cool against her bare flesh. Taya forced herself to exhale. "You look beautiful, little bird. I've changed my mind about the flight suit. It doesn't do your figure justice at all."
"You look very nice, too," Taya said, taking the opportunity to gaze at him again. "That green suits you."
"I'm afraid that next to you I'm going to make people think of a tree, but I'll have to live with it. I should have chosen to wear sky blue, instead."
"Are exalted dances the same as other caste dances?" she asked as they entered the ballroom. The musicians were playing. The rest of the evening's guests were trickling into the room, their faces flushed from the chill night air.
"Much worse," Alister confided. "They're very stately and slow. It's difficult to develop a graceful carriage when one is accustomed to being weighed down by ten pounds of gold and silk."
"Shouldn't you be that much lighter on your feet once you're free of your public robes, then?"
He smiled down at her.
"I'm afraid you're too optimistic. Do icarii dance in the air, Taya? Do you carry out secret winged ballets over the mountains when no other castes are watching?"
"Uh-oh. Somebody's been telling you our secrets."
His green eyes widened in playful surprise. "May I watch, someday? Will you take me dancing in the air with you?"
"Maybe." She turned away, amused by his persistence. Sometimes groups of icarii would fly out with extra ondium counterweights on their harnesses and engage in aerial acrobatics that were impossible in a normal rig. It was a dangerous sport, since their lighter weights made them more vulnerable to sudden gusts of wind, but every young icarus did it at least once. Taya was considered one of the better skydancers.
Too bad she didn't have a set of dancing wings here.
"The music's starting." Alister released her and bowed. "May I?"
She took another deep breath and held out her hand. He took it and pulled her out onto the dance floor.
He had exaggerated, of course. As far as Taya could tell, exalteds danced just as well as anyone else, and the steps weren't very different from those in the dances at icarus parties or her sister's famulate wedding. After the first few minutes, Taya relaxed and stopped thinking about what she was doing, letting Alister sweep her across the floor. The hand holding hers was very proper, but the thumb of his other hand stroked the feathers on her waist as he deftly guided her through the dance.
Lady, it would be easy to fall for him
, Taya thought, as he pulled her closer a moment to sweep past another couple.
It would be just like a story, an exalted and an icarus loving across caste.
Just don't forget how those stories always end up
, she reminded herself.
It never works out well for the icarus. Alister Forlore is a charming flirt. Don't lose your heart to him, and you'll be fine.
"What's wrong?" Alister asked. His grip tightened. "You looked very stern all of the sudden."
"Nothing," she said, becoming aware of the scent he was wearing. It reminded her of the spice markets of the foreigners’ quarter, exotic but appealing. "Just… a thought."
"Are you worried about my brother?"
"Huh?"
"He's staring at you." Alister swung her around. For a moment Taya caught a glimpse of a dark figure in the middle of all the extravagantly dressed exalts, and then they turned again and he was gone.
"You said he never came to parties!"
Alister chuckled. "I believe you've made another conquest, Taya Swan."
"I doubt that! Although I'd like to talk to him."
"After this dance," he promised, pulling her closer again. "Right now you're mine."
She couldn't help glancing over his shoulder, seeking out Cristof's slim, severe figure every time they turned. Why was he here? To celebrate Viera's survival?
She hoped so, for the family's sake.
After the dance Alister waved off the other men who tried to break in.
"Back, back. The lady will dance with you as soon as she's had some refreshment," he scolded them. "Give the guest of honor a chance to rest."
He steered her toward Cristof, who was holding a glass of wine and regarding them gravely.
He really does look like a crow in a flock of fancy songbirds
, Taya thought, remembering Gwen's characterization. His somber clothes and sharp-featured face made the comparison even more apt. Anywhere else in Ondinium, she might have thought that he looked striking. Up here he just looked out of place.
Maybe as out of place as me
, she admitted to herself as they approached.
"Why, Cris, what a delight to see you at a party at last," Alister said with mock surprise as they drew up to each other. "I noticed that you were staring at Taya while we were dancing. Could it be that my big brother's mind is finally turning to something other than clockwork?"
Cristof scowled, looking away. "I was studying the architecture of her dress."
"Architecture? Is that what they call them down on Tertius?" Alister teased.
Color rose in Cristof's cheeks.
"I was trying to figure out how the dress was fastened," he elaborated, with stilted dignity. "Dressmaking is as much a feat of engineering as bridge-building. More so. A bridge doesn't need to be comfortable."
"My dress isn't exactly fastened," Taya admitted. "It was sewn on."
Cristof choked in mid-swallow and set his glass down. Alister roared with laughter, making heads turn.
"Oh, Lady save us! That leads to all sorts of interesting lines of speculation, doesn't it?" He grinned at his older brother. "Are you all right, Cris?"
"I'm fine," Cristof said in a strangled voice. "Excuse me."
Alister watched him go, then turned and swooped Taya up and kissed her on the cheek.
"What was that for?" she gasped, holding on to his arms as he swung her around and set her back down again. His eyes danced.
"That was for flustering my brother. I don't get the opportunity to see his gears slip nearly often enough."
Taya shook her head with mild disapproval, but she didn't try to break away from his grip as he held her. Instead, she leaned on his arm and searched the crowd for Cristof.
She spotted him at once, because he was so tall and dark. He was still coughing into his handkerchief, and light gleamed off his wire-rimmed spectacles. She remembered how carefully he'd held Alister's toy bird and how he'd given her half of his poor lunch. Suddenly she felt sorry for him.
"Don't make fun of him, Alister. It's not nice."
"Nonsense. I'm only teasing. Cris takes everything so seriously. Sometimes I think his heart is nothing but springs and gears. I'd be the first to approve if he ever got his mind off his machines and started thinking about something as healthy as a pretty woman."
Taya sighed. As she was about to turn away, a footman approached and murmured something to the clockwright. Cristof's shoulders tightened, and he strode toward the ballroom door.
"I don't know," she said, troubled. "I have a feeling he thinks about a lot that doesn't have to do with machines."
"You believe the best of everyone, don't you? Now, tell me, was that what you wanted to say to him? That your dress was sewn on? I presume it will have to be dismantled before it's removed." Alister stroked the feathers over her shoulder and down her back. "What lucky soul will have that privilege tonight, Taya Swan? I hope your dressmaker was female."
She moved away before his finger could descend too far. "He's not, but he thinks I'm too boyish to be attractive."
"Only a madman would call you boyish."
Taya smiled, glad to hear it, even if it was blatant flattery. "Will you excuse me? I need to… check my hair."
"Of course. Over there." He pointed the way and she slipped away.
The foyer was empty of guests, although the candles and endless rows of reflecting mirrors made the room seem crowded as soon as she walked into it. The front door was open. Taya glanced at the door to the ladies’ parlor, then turned and stepped outside. She didn't really need to relieve herself. She just needed a moment of solitude, before Alister's flirting could get any more suggestive.
The stone walls and iron gate blocked the light from the street, but the mansion's broad front porch was lined with small lanterns that provided a festive air. Taya shivered in the cold air and took a deep breath, leaning against the low porch rail. Tension uncoiled from her back and shoulders, and she realized how uneasy she'd been inside, despite Alister's charming company.
Or maybe because of it.
She looked up, hoping to see an icarus silhouetted against the stars or moon, but the night sky was empty.
This isn't me
, she thought, looking up at the stars with a touch of regret.
I'm not meant to wear elegant dresses and flirt with handsome exalteds. The Lady forged me to wear leather and ondium and ride the wind.
There was nothing to stop her from enjoying herself with Alister Forlore. Nothing but her own vague sense of unease.
Maybe it's because he outranks me
, she thought, testing the idea. Despite what Cristof had said, icarii didn't really stand outside of the caste hierarchy. Not as long as exalteds ran the city and owned their wings.
Perhaps she should borrow a pair of wings and take Alister into the air. Caste differences wouldn't matter once she was in her own element.
Or maybe I'm just getting too old for casual affairs
She'd never been as carefree as Cassi and so many of the rest of her peers. That's why she hadn't been able to sleep with Pyke. He'd been kind enough, but it hadn't seemed worth the effort of starting something that was doomed from the start.
"…got them from Pins," someone murmured. Taya looked toward the voice and saw three men standing in the garden shadows, next to a small marble bench. Faint lamplight reflected from a small metal packet that changed hands. The man who took it shoved it into his jacket, and Taya bit her lip as she saw the silver circles around his eyes.
"You shouldn't have come. You could comp—" Cristof halted as one of the men looked up at Taya and made a warning noise.
"Excuse me," she apologized, stepping back from the rail. "I–I was just getting some fresh air. I didn't know anyone was out here."
"You see?" Cristof asked his companions, in a low, annoyed voice. He shook his head, waving the other two men aside. Taya caught a glimpse of their faces as they backed off. No masks. They weren't exalteds, then, but somebody lower-caste. It was too dark to discern their castemarks.
Cristof looked up at her. "Wait a moment, if you please, Taya Icarus."
"I'm sorry. It's cold," Taya said, feeling nervous. "I'd better get back inside." She caught a glimpse of his frown and turned, hurrying back to the safety of the house.
What was that? she thought in a panic, torn between fleeing to the sanctuary of the ladies’ parlor and seeking the safety of Alister's company.
What did I just see?
The packet — it had looked like a stack of metal punch cards, the kind used to program analytical engines.
Like the engines that ran the wireferries. Or that switched refinery furnaces on and off at specific hours.