The arcana that brought his image up from the Tomb evidently enabled him to see them as well. His good eye swept over Kit and Elariel and focused on Gyre at once. His long, gray-tufted ears went stiff, and his voice was cold.
“Who is this?” he snapped.
“The boy called Gyre, Master,” Kit said, stepping forward to stand directly in front of the flickering image. “I mentioned him in my last report.”
“He has seen too much already.” The old ghoul waved a hand. “Dispose of him.”
“I need him, Master,” Kit said. “The Twilight Order’s centarchs are already here. We have only one chance to get the Core Analytica—”
“Because you waited too long!”
“The dux is careful,” Kit said.
“I care very little for the dux,” Naumoriel said, “and not at all for your excuses. You know the price of failure.”
“I do.” Kit bowed her head. “With Gyre’s help, we will have the Analytica in hand tomorrow evening.”
“Then why bring him here?”
“It was the only way to ensure his cooperation.” Kit stepped aside, letting Naumoriel look at Gyre. “His price for helping us was that I guide him to the Tomb.”
To Gyre’s surprise, the ghoul laughed at this, his ears twitching. It ended with a cough, and there was a wheeze in Naumoriel’s breath when he spoke.
“Bold, boy. Bold.”
“I’ve been called that,” Gyre said.
“And quite foolhardy.”
“That as well,” Gyre said. Kit sniggered.
“I supplied Kitsraea with ample resources to secure the help she needed.” Naumoriel cocked his head, ears quivering. “And yet she brings you to see me.”
“It wasn’t her money I wanted.”
“You want to visit the Tomb.” He pronounced the word with an ironic twist. “Why? Did you think to plunder our graves?”
“I didn’t know the ghouls survived,” Gyre admitted.
Naumoriel leaned forward. “And now that you know, do you regret your request?”
“Not at all.”
“Why?” Naumoriel’s lips split in a cold smile, showing small, sharp teeth. “What do you hope to find?”
“Be honest,” Kit had said. Gyre took a deep breath.
“Power,” he said. “The Twilight Order destroyed my family. My whole life, I’ve searched for a way to destroy them in turn. But they have the power of the Chosen, and they leave the rest of us nothing. Only the ghouls ever stood up to that power.”
“Power. And you thought you’d just come down here and find it?” Naumoriel’s grin widened. “That goes beyond bold.”
Gyre shrugged.
The old ghoul barked another laugh. “You certainly know how to choose your allies, Kitsraea.”
“Thank you, Master,” she said, though Gyre wasn’t sure it had been a compliment.
“Very well,” the old ghoul said to Gyre. “Get me the Core Analytica, and you may bring it to the Tomb.” A tiny pink tongue ran across his pointed teeth. “I make no promises as to whether you’ll return.”
Before Gyre could answer, the image vanished.
*
Emerging onto the street after the darkness of Elariel’s lair was like stepping into a different world. The sun was low in the western sky, but it was still blinding, and Gyre felt half-drunk as he staggered out the door. Kit took his arm in hers.
“Well,” she said. “That went better than expected.”
“You …” Gyre shook his head. He had a thousand questions, and an unpleasant feeling she wasn’t going to answer any of them. “Are these your ‘contacts’?”
She nodded. “Elariel has spies all over the city. Tiny constructs”—she held her hands a few centimeters apart—“that let her see or hear what they do.”
“And she told you that Raskos has an agent in Yora’s crew?”
Kit nodded again. “She hasn’t been able to catch anyone in the act, but she’s seen the reports in the Spike. Enough to be certain.” She raised an eyebrow. “So what’s it going to be? Are we going to waste our chance, or are we going to get this done ourselves?”
Gyre took a deep breath, cold air flooding his lungs and dispelling some of the fog from his head. It had been less than an hour since he’d gotten into the cab with Kit, but it felt like a lifetime.
The Tomb. What he’d been searching for all these years. The best chance—the only chance—at power to match a centarch’s. And it’s more than I ever imagined. He’d hoped to plunder some unknown arcana from a ruin. What a living ghoul city might offer—
I have to get there. He knew, intellectually, that he might simply be hurrying to his death, but there was no fear, only the iron determination that had brought him this far. His scar itched, and at the back of his mind he heard Maya’s scream. I have to.
Yora. What would she do, if he simply disappeared? Surely she wouldn’t go through with the attack. The natural assumption, if he and Kit didn’t show up at the rendezvous, would be that they’d been captured. In that case, the only logical thing to do would be to call everything off and hunker down.
She wouldn’t go through with it. She’s too smart for that. He let out his breath. And once Kit and I have the Analytica, we can hand off the money to Yora and the others. Whatever happened in the Tomb, Gyre didn’t think he’d need a pile of thalers.
This is the only chance I’m going to get.
Kit was watching him curiously. Gyre squared his shoulders and met her gaze.
“We’d better start going over the plan,” he said.
Chapter 13
It felt like no time at all passed between the moment Maya’s head hit the pillow and the knock that woke her. In truth, she didn’t know how long it had been—she and Beq had snuck back into the palace while it was still dark, and now sunlight was streaming in through the window. However much sleep she’d gotten, though, it hadn’t been enough.
But we made it. Thinking of last night’s adventure made her feel giddy. We have a lead on Raskos, and what’s really going on here. Now all she had to do was figure out what to do with it.
The knock repeated, politely, and Maya shook off her lassitude and hastily rolled out of bed. She pulled a dressing gown over her shift and hurried to the door, which opened to reveal a liveried footman with her breakfast on a silver platter.
“Thanks,” Maya said, a little confused. Yesterday they’d left the food without waking her.
“Agathios Tanax instructed me to say that he needs to speak with you at once,” the footman said, bowing again.
“Ah.” Maya glanced longingly at the tray, where steam was rising from a thick slab of bread drizzled with butter and chocolate, beside eggs and vulpi fry. She swallowed and put on a brave face. “I’ll be with him as soon as I’m dressed.”
“Of course.” The servant bowed and withdrew.
Maya swore and pulled on her rumpled uniform, pausing only to jam a strip of vulpi into her mouth. She chewed hurriedly as she crossed the corridor to knock on Tanax’s door.