“At any rate,” Viola said, clearing her throat. “Speaking of arrangements. I think it’s time that Annette and I were out of your hair. Penny should be making her way to the city soon enough, Kristos, and I figure we’ll have a spring wedding for these two,” she added, waving a lithe hand at Theodor and me. “Time for the birds to make their own nests, I think.”
“You’re still quite welcome, even if we—when we—” I stumbled. It was so close, so real, something I had never thought possible. I smiled. “Even when we’re married.”
“What are you waiting for, anyway?” Kristos prodded.
“It’s been a bit busy, between the war and founding a nation,” Theodor said. “And in truth, the Office of Records only officially opened a fortnight ago, and they’re quite swamped.”
“You and Penny aren’t married,” I shot back.
“We have a baby,” he retorted. “That is even more binding a contract. You could do that, instead.”
Annette and Viola exchanged an amused glance. “Viola has a dozen commissions already, for paintings, and the Office of Naval Affairs is paying me quite well as an advisor at the moment. So we have enough, we think, to rent a little townhouse or the like.” Annette compressed her brows. “I think. If I understand rent contracts correctly—perhaps you want to look at our agreement, Sophie?”
I laughed. “Of course, I’m quite facile with rent agreements. Though of course, things have changed a bit, now that it’s citizen-owned property.”
“Well, a toast then, to new homes and new beginnings,” Kristos said. I raised my glass of weak small beer alongside the others, exhaling deeply with a strange, most welcome optimism.
“As pleasant as this all is, I’ve a meeting with Forrest at his house in—hell, less than an hour.” Theodor grinned. “If you open any of those bottles from the cellar, you save some for me,” he said, planting a kiss on my head as he made for the door. I stood to clear the table. As Viola assisted me, she kicked something under the table.
“Isn’t this Theodor’s?” she said, holding up a leather portfolio.
“Yes,” I sighed. “And I imagine he’s going to need that if he’s meeting with Maurice. I’ll chase him down,” I added, catching the portfolio when Viola tossed it to me.
I swung my mantelet over my shoulders as I hurried down the street. Theodor’s quick stride had already put him a block ahead of me, on the other side of the street, nearer the river. I took the foray as a pleasant surprise. We hadn’t had much time alone, and it would be nice to walk together to Maurice Forrest’s house, on the other side of Broad Street, alongside the river, which rolled with swift-flowing eddies as it swelled with snowmelt. Perhaps we could even discuss plans for a wedding—something small, a simple party at the public gardens with our friends.
Before I could catch up enough to call out, I saw another figure walking toward him, purposeful and direct. I squinted—it was Niko. He must have been coming to see us, I thought, to discuss—who knew. Yet another argument about the liquidation of the wartime storehouses, about sending the army home, about something. But he didn’t turn toward the house. He kept his sights set on Theodor.
I slowed, unsure if I should interrupt. It seemed quite possible they had some sort of business with one another, or that Niko would take advantage of finding Theodor alone to try to persuade him privately of one of his views. What Niko lacked in Kristos’s silver tongue he made up for in dogged determination, and this could be like any other chance meeting or open session in the council. Except for one thing.
Niko held a pistol in his hand.
My heart seemed to stop, and my legs turned to putty, but I surged forward anyway. I called out, but neither noticed me.
Niko cocked the pistol and lifted it, leveling on Theodor’s chest. He seemed to move through layers of filmy organza, hazy and indistinct, though I knew precisely what he was doing, what was going to happen. I couldn’t move as quickly as my mind worked, couldn’t reach out and change the tableau unfolding before me.
The pistol fired.
Theodor dropped to the ground.
Niko was gone even as the report echoed up the street, over the river, tearing everything apart in its wake. I ran to Theodor’s side, my knees scraping on the hard stone as I dropped beside him.
It felt like it could have been me, life bleeding into the cold stone, seeping rapidly into oblivion. My hands scrabbled for his, for the wound in his chest, for something to hold on to, to tie his life to this world, somehow. His eyes found mine, recognition blooming. He tried to speak; all he could manage was a choking rattle. I gripped his hand tighter, willing life, willing health. Charm magic sparked around us, and I drove it toward him, enveloping him in light. He smiled, faintly, and squeezed my hand in return.
For a moment I believed I could save him.
Then he exhaled a bloody breath and slipped away, eyes losing focus, or perhaps focusing on something else, far away, something that I couldn’t see.
He was gone, and I was left in a pool of blood and charm magic sinking slowly into the dank stone.
65
I MUST HAVE BEEN WAILING, BECAUSE KRISTOS FOUND ME WITHIN minutes, my voice hoarse. He pried me away, my gown slick with blood, and wordlessly led me back to the house, putting my recalcitrant body into Viola’s arms. Her eyes widened with shock but she simply lowered me onto the nearest couch and began to unpin my bloodied gown.
“Who?” Kristos said. His eyes were dark coals in the long evening shadows. “Who?”
I shook. “He ruined everything.”
“Who?” he demanded.
I trembled as I looked at him, knowing the price of naming the guilty man. Knowing it meant rending the fabric of the new country before it had even been fashioned into a government. I could have said nothing, pretended I found Theodor already wounded, already dead.
Kristos knew better.
“Niko,” I whispered.
He turned and plucked his sword from where it hung with the coats and cloaks, a martial interruption to the homely woolens lining the wall. Wordlessly, Sianh followed him, looping his sword belt over his coat.
I lurched forward. “No, you can’t—”
“They’ll be safe,” Viola said, pressing me firmly back against the settee.
“But if they—if Niko—”
“Don’t concern yourself over it.” Annette’s soothing voice skimmed over a tremor of fear, like a mother fussing over a sick child. “Let them take care of it.”
Sianh and Kristos strode out into the night, the door closing behind them with hollow finality. Viola motioned to one of the men stationed in our house as a clerk and gave him concise directions in a low timbre I couldn’t hear. I remained motionless, my vision centered on the door, as though I could bore holes through the wood to the settling darkness beyond, could follow Kristos and Sianh.
Annette brought me tea. I pushed it away. “Drink it,” she said, kind but firm. “You’ll thank me later.”
I thought it a strange thing to say, but after I’d drained the cup, sleep pulled heavy on my eyelids. I slept and woke in dazed starts, through velvet darkness and the glimmers of daylight, and into twilight again, losing track of time until I woke to sunshine in my eyes and my arm asleep under my head.