Gabrielle slowed down once she reached the showcase room. She slowly spun around and delicately removed a fan from the fur-lined depths of her cloak.
“Mademoiselle Mystrim wishes to express her overflowing joy at this news,” Elle chirped.
“Yes. She certainly looks…overflowing.” Nefari wrinkled his forehead as he studied Gabrielle for a moment. “My servant should bring it out in a moment—ahh, here she is.”
The girl, bearing a wooden serving tray that had a small velvet cushion on it, appeared at the room entryway. She waddled up to Gabrielle and held the tray up.
It’s a good thing Quinn can hear her—I certainly can’t. I suspect she’ll be the larger threat to this mission than Nefari.
Nefari gestured to the velvet cushion—which bore a necklace with an obnoxiously large, emerald-colored gem. “Of course, I will need to tune the spells to you for the greatest effect—as I mentioned prior.”
Gabrielle boredly opened her fan, then closed it and studied the lacquered sticks that gave the fan its structure.
There’s the cue—that means Puss is in place.
“Naturally,” Elle said, still translating.
Angelique yawned widely, then slumped against the wall. She waited a few moments, then yanked her gloves off her cold, red hands and pulled a dagger from the depths of her shapeless, gray cloak.
She turned the weapon around in her hands a few times, inspecting it with an intensity she didn’t feel.
Despite the cold—even with the fire, the room was quite chilly—she started to sweat.
Stay calm. This is it. If we can pull this off, we might find something about Evariste.
“Would Mademoiselle Mystrim like a first look at the spells before we tune them—so you can ascertain their power and strength?” Nefari asked.
Elle picked up the bespelled necklace with a casualness that made Angelique’s spine shiver. “What do you think, Mademoiselle?” she asked.
Failing in her mission to catch Nefari’s attention, Angelique held the dagger up higher—as though she was scrutinizing a nick in the blade.
It glittered in the dim light, and when Nefari glanced in their direction, he snapped his head back so fast Angelique was surprised she didn’t hear his neck crack.
“I beg your pardon,” he said in a calm voice that belayed the sharp edge to his attention. “But you are required to disarm yourselves before coming inside.”
Angelique slowly blinked, as if she were having a hard time understanding what he meant. “When we came in the first time, your servant girl just looked at our swords.”
“Likely she assumed you didn’t have any other weapons given that most of our clientele are defended through magic,” he said.
Hah—exactly as Evariste told me years ago!
Nefari strode across the room and held out his hand. “But it is not worth fretting over. I will take the dagger.”
“You don’t want our other weapons?” Angelique asked once he got closer.
Now it was Nefari’s turn to blink. “Other weapons?”
Angelique squinted as she pulled out two hidden daggers from her bracers, then stuck her leg out and started to pull another dagger from her boot.
“Ah—I see.” Nefari held his hand up to stop her. “My servant girl shall guide you back to the outdoors so you may completely disarm.”
Angelique turned around to peer at Gabrielle. “Is that acceptable, Mademoiselle Mystrim?”
Gabrielle simpered.
“Mademoiselle Mystrim thinks it is best to acquiesce to our host’s rules of conduct,” Elle said.
Angelique purposely made an awkward bow to Gabrielle, then turned with Quinn to follow the servant girl—still carrying the wooden tray—back up the hallway.
When they reached the door, Angelique shook her head. “No, I’m not going back out there—it’s so cold, I’ll lose a toe if I have to stand out there very long. We’ll disarm here.”
The little girl dully stared at her. “The master always has guests disarm outside.”
Angelique ignored her and started flinging her daggers at the ground, ignoring the curious prickle of her magic as it inspected the dull blades—which they’d bought cheaply for this very reason.
Nefari probably can’t tell the difference between a dull blade and a sharpened one anyway.
Quinn copied Angelique, and together they started to make a pile of weapons.
The girl clutched the tray and watched, but she didn’t say anything more about going outside.
Angelique purposefully slowed down in the process—taking time to pat herself down as if she couldn’t even remember where she had all her blades stored—to stall for time.
She heard Elle shout once or twice, but she couldn’t make out what she was actually saying.
Come on, Nefari. Let your greed get the best of you. Summon her even though we’re not done!
A few moments passed before a bell rang.
The servant girl looked down the hallway in the direction of the showroom, then back at Angelique and Quinn. “Are you finished?”
Quinn held her arms out in a T pose, revealing the rows upon rows of pockets inside her cloak. Each one of them held a dagger or weapon of some fashion.
The little girl frowned.
The bell rang again—this time for a longer toll.
“Once you finish disarming, you may return to the showroom.” The girl scurried down the hallway, almost smacking into Nefari as he poked his head into the hallway.
“Ahh, there you are.” He glanced at Angelique and Quinn—who removed two daggers from her cloak with painstaking slowness—then shifted his attention to the servant girl.
“Take this pendant down to the workshop,” Nefari shoved the velvet cushion at the girl. “Tell Verice it needs a shimmer charm on it. Mademoiselle Mystrim is…dissatisfied with its appearance and would like it to be more radiant.”
The servant girl took the pillow and darted to the door that led downstairs, slipping through it and disappearing as silently as she had appeared.
Nefari glanced at Angelique and Quinn.
Quinn pointedly dropped a dagger on the heap and grabbed another from her cloak.
Nefari raised his eyebrows but ducked back into the showroom—too paranoid to leave Elle and Gabrielle alone.
Angelique exchanged nods with Quinn and then began creeping down the hallway, stopping at the first door.
Quinn—able to hear the nearly silent girl—would serve as the lookout while Angelique tried to find where Nefari hid his papers.
The first door was an obvious dead end—it was a bedroom, with a washroom attached. The door across the hallway from it was the kitchen.
Another door held another bedroom—this one filled with beds, probably where the other mages slept based on the cramped array of straw-stuffed mattresses and rumpled blankets.
If I don’t find anything in this last door, I’ll circle around to the bedroom. He might have something hidden there.
As stealthily as she could, Angelique cracked the door open and peered inside while Quinn loudly dropped another dagger on the pile with a clang.
Through the crack, Angelique could see a meticulously organized desk with a capped inkwell and both a feather quill and a fountain pen placed above what appeared to be a logbook or journal.
There were two bookshelves (both contained books that appeared to be organized by color and size), a crate with straw poking out of it, and a few chairs.