John Betancourt - The Dawn of Amber

“You were lucky,” he said slowly, “If it had been Locke, you’d be dead. He’s the best swordsman among us,”

“You’ve never seen me fight.”

He shrugged. “I concede the point. But Locke’s the best swordsman I’ve ever seen. He was schooled by a dozen weapons-masters in the Courts of Chaos. He grew up with blades in both hands. His mother, after all—”

“Freda mentioned her,” I said. “Some sort of hell-creature?”

“The Lady Ryassa de Lyor ab Sytalla is hardly a hell-creature.”

“Then you’ve met her?”

“Not formally, no… but I’ve seen her half a dozen times.”

I shrugged. “You’re probably right. Father never would have married her otherwise.”

“True.”

“And,” I said, “if you say Locke’s a great swordsman, I’ll accept that, even though I’ve never seen him fight.”

“Good.”

“It’s just that I made the mistake of letting down my guard, thinking I was safe here. It won’t happen again. Not with anyone.”

He pursed his lips again. “A traitor… that’s something none of us has ever talked about before. Yet it makes a lot of sense. This Shadow is very, very far from the Courts. About as far as you can get and still use the Logrus. We should have been safe here… and yet they found us fairly quickly.”

I spread my hands in a half shrug. “So… what now?”

“Blaise…” he hesitated.

“The same qualities that make her a likely ally also make her a likely suspect. She could have gotten Ivinius into the castle and sent him to my room.”

“True. She saw what you looked like when we had drinks, so she knew you needed a shave and a haircut. But you could say the same for Pella, Freda, and me, too. Or Dad, for that matter. Or anyone you passed in the corridor.”

“Or anyone who saw me get out of the carriage when we got here,” I said, remembering the crowd that had surrounded Dad. Locke and Davin had been among them… plus several dozen others, any one of whom could have said the wrong word to the wrong person and set me up.

I sighed. Clearly we weren’t getting anywhere.

“What do we do now?” I asked.

“Tell Blaise about the Trump you found,” he said, “and your suspicions. The more I think about it, the more I believe she’ll be able to help you. I’ll tell Freda. Perhaps one of them will have an answer.”

“Don’t tell them about the hell-creature barber yet,” I said. “I don’t want to tip my hand.”

“No… you’re right, of course. Save that. It may be important later.”

I found Blaise’s rooms on the floor above, and her serving girl showed me into a sitting room done in bright colors, with fresh cut flowers in intricate arrangements all around. My sister reclined on a small sofa, a glass of red wine in one hand and a pretty young man in the other. He kissed her fingers, rose with a sideways glance at me, and slipped out the side door. I watched him go without comment, thinking of Aber’s jibe that she slept with half the serving staff. An exaggeration, of course… at least, I hoped so.

“Oberon,” she said, rising.

I kissed the cheek she offered.

“Blaise,” I said. “You’re looking lovely.”

“Thank you.” She wore that wide, predatory smile again, and all my mistrust came flooding back. “I’m glad you’ve come to see me,” she said, “May I offer you some wine?”

“No, thank you.”

“It’s time we had a talk. But I certainly hadn’t expected to see you so soon.”

Glancing pointedly at her serving girl, I said, “This isn’t really a social call.”

“No?”

“Aber thought I should seek your advice.”

“Interesting.” She smiled. “Go on.”

“Alone, if you don’t mind.”

She made a little motion with one hand, and her serving girl curtsied and withdrew, shutting the door. Only then did I turn back to my half sister.

“I’m listening,” she said, more businesslike than before. She set down her glass, folded her hands in her lap, and looked up at me curiously.

I took a deep breath. What did I have to lose at this point? I didn’t know who to trust and who to suspect, so I might as well put all the evidence out in the open. Perhaps she would have more insight than Aber and I did.

Quickly, before I could change my mind, I told her everything, starting with Ivinius trying to slit my throat and ending with the Trump I’d found in the hell-creature’s camp. A little to my surprise, she neither interrupted nor showed the slightest concern. She merely looked thoughtful.

“What do you think?” I asked.

“That you are a damned fool,” she said sharply. “You should not have hidden an assassination attempt. This isn’t a game, Oberon. If we are in danger in Juniper, we all have a right to know!”

I bristled at that, but did not reply. Unfortunately, I thought she might be right. I had handled it wrong. I should have gone straight to Dad as soon as I’d killed Ivinius.

“What’s done is done,” I finally said, “and cannot be changed. I thought I made the right decision at the time.”

“And now you’ve come to me?”

“Aber seems to think you might have a certain… insight into whatever plots are going on around us.”

“Hmm.” She leaned back on the couch, drumming her fingers on its arm, eyes distant. “I’m not sure whether to be flattered or insulted. There has never been much love between Aber and me, you know.”

“We don’t need love. We need cooperation.”

She looked me in the eye. “You are quite right, Oberon. This is not a petty squabble among siblings. We are all involved, and we are all in mortal danger. If we are not careful, we will all end up dead.”

“Do you know anything about Ivinius?” I asked.

“He performed his job well and faithfully for many years. He was married. I believe his wife died about a week ago.”

“Murdered?” I asked.

She shrugged. “When a woman of seventy-odd years dies in her sleep, who questions it? Not I.”

“I suppose not.” I sat on the chair opposite her. “Of course, Ivinius’s wife would have known immediately if someone began impersonating him, I bet they killed her to keep her quiet.”

“A hell-creature impersonating Ivinius would need help. A stranger could never sneak into Juniper, replace a skilled tradesman, and impersonate him perfectly without some assistance. It had to be someone with a knowledge of the castle’s routine, who brought him here and coached him on what to say and what to do.”

I reminded her that the body had been removed from my rooms.

“That narrows down our list of suspects.”

“Not really,” I said. “The door wasn’t locked. Anyone could have walked in, found Ivinius’s body, and escaped with it.”

“Anybody might have slipped in,” she said, “but no one saw a body being carried out. I would have heard. You cannot hide a death here… which means whoever took the body used a Trump.”

“A family member?”

“Yes.”

“That’s what I concluded,” I said. “Someone who knew I arrived in need of a shave and a haircut. You, Freda, Aber, Pella, Davin, and Locke all saw me. I don’t know whether any of the others did.”

“And then you found Locke’s Trump in the hell-creatures’ camp,” she said, frowning.

“Yes. But Aber doesn’t think he’s the traitor.”

“Locke is guilty of many things, but he wouldn’t plot with our enemies. They planted that card for us to find.”

“That’s what Aber said, too. But if not Locke, then who?”

“I think I know.”

“Tell me!”

Blaise shook her head as she rose. “Not yet,” she said firmly. “I have no proof. We must see Father first. This cannot wait.”