Ilona Andrews - Fate's Edge

They were special, all right. “How did he get access to all those blueprints?”

“When his talents were discovered, the Adrianglian military idiots in their infinite wisdom thought he’d make a good spy, so they started shoving complex blueprints at him and training him to reproduce them. He is doing exactly what they trained him to do, except, you see, he doesn’t want to be an engineer or a spy; he wants to be an artist. So he ran away. We tracked him down to Morell, who will be auctioning one of his paintings. Francis thinks people are buying his blueprint paintings because they are art. He doesn’t realize they are buying his blueprints to use them for their own purposes. William and I have to extract him and take him back.”

“What will happen to him?”

“They will confine him. They won’t kill him, but they will put him in a controlled environment, probably in Lona-ret. It’s a military building, very beautiful, like a resort. Except with tall walls, magically capable guards, and handlers who make sure the guests don’t leave. He is not ill or mentally deficient. Francis knows he is committing treason. He was warned before, and he is aware that someone may use his art for nefarious purposes; but he’s so arrogant that he scoffs at that idea. He’s convinced that his work’s artistic value trumps all those silly little national-security rules. He just doesn’t care. He’s lucky he’s talented, or they would jail his scrawny ass in some dungeon and forget he was ever born.” Cerise leaned forward. “The Mirror’s agents aren’t permitted to discuss the nature of their missions with each other. The Mirror provided us with an invitation, and we arrived here. William is a Louisianan smuggler and a jealous thug. I’m minor nobility and a delicate flower in need of rescuing. Francis is a romantic. He filled in the blanks very quickly. We had no idea Kaldar would wind up here. We must coordinate things now.”

No kidding.

“You are still thinking of marrying him, right?”

What is it with the two of them and marriage? “Cerise, he is joking. Besides, I wouldn’t marry him if he paid me.”

“Why not?”

“Because Kaldar isn’t the marrying kind. He’s the have-fun-with kind.”

Cerise frowned. “You have to admit, he is a great agent.”

“Yes. He’s clever and capable, and he gets the job done.”

Cerise glanced at her. “And he is quick on his feet.”

“Yes.”

“And handsome.”

“Well, of course he’s handsome. He’s a great thief. He also did that sword thing your family does and killed one of the Hand’s swordswomen, I guess you’d call them. None of it makes him a good candidate for marriage. He has wandering eyes and wandering hands.” And he lies. Constantly and with great skill.

“He was always very good with the blade. He’s a good provider,” Cerise said.

Funny how she completely ignored that wandering eyes bit. Audrey hid a smile.

“Family is really big with our clan. In the swamp, you can’t count on anyone but family. Kaldar was our matchmaker. He arranged most of the unions for the family.”

Well, that explained volumes. She’d asked him about his friends’ being married. Of course he knew his friends were married. He had probably married his relatives to them. And she had rubbed his nose in the fact that he hadn’t tied the knot himself. That explained his sudden urge to marry.

“So you wouldn’t have to worry,” Cerise continued. “Kaldar knows all about what’s required to start a solid household.”

She was actually talking Kaldar up to her. Audrey almost laughed. Cerise loved her cousin. But her matchmaking was as subtle as a bulldozer. “I wish you would stop trying to hook me up with your cousin.”

“I’m not very good at it, am I?” Cerise grimaced. “Kaldar is a son of a bitch. He steals, he brews wild schemes, and he drives my husband crazy, on purpose, because it amuses him. But Kaldar is also kind and brave and loyal. It’s hard to get close to him, but those who do gain a friend for life. I love him like a brother. He always watched out for me. And you should know that when we passed him and Morell, he looked at you as if you walked on water.”

Audrey drew back.

A shadow came over Cerise’s face. She looked away, at the window and the clouds in the distant sky. “My family has suffered enough. Kaldar has suffered enough. I just want him to be happy. Give him a chance. If it doesn’t work out, you can always find me and punch me in the face afterward.”

THE dinner was served in the grand dining room. Kaldar decided that he didn’t much care for castles, especially that one. The dining room, with its vast walls, ornate arches decorated by an elaborate red-and-gold border, and carved white columns, was beautiful. Majestic even. But it felt cold and impersonal. He always preferred the happy chaos of the Mar kitchen, where space was in short supply, and everyone talked while they ate.

He was seated near the end of the table, with George to his left and Jack straight across from him. A lanky young man with glasses occupied the seat on his right. According to George, the man’s name was Francis, he was a traitor to Adrianglia, and at the first opportunity, William and Cerise would grab him and drag him back to the loving embrace of the realm.

The dinner consisted of five small courses. Francis wasn’t eating much of it. He picked at his food, rolling the tiny tomatoes with his fork, and cast sad glances at Cerise, seated across the table four people down to their left.

Cerise looked lovely. Her gown was dyed in a distinctive sunset pattern, popular in the Weird last year: almost plum red at the off-the-shoulder sleeves and pleated, turned-down collar that left most of her cleavage exposed, the fabric flared into red as it clasped her breasts, brightened to near orange at the waist, then spilled in a glorious cascade of pleated blush, a shade too provocative to be called pink. It was a good choice. The gown was slightly out of season. It took time for the dress styles to filter from the North to the South. A saltlicker’s wife wouldn’t have access to the latest fashions. Red signaled sensuality, and Francis was eating it up.

Next to Cerise, Audrey turned toward him. For a moment, Kaldar forgot where he was.

Francis sighed next to him. The sound snapped Kaldar out of his reverie.

“A beautiful lady,” Kaldar said confidentially.

“She is.” Francis sent a look of sad longing in Cerise’s direction.

“I believe she is married,” Kaldar said.

“To a brute.” Francis glanced at William, seated across from Cerise. “A saltlicker smuggler, which is just another name for a pirate. He made his money robbing other ships, stole a fortune, and married her. Her family is noble but poor. He practically bought her. Can you imagine?”

George cleared his throat carefully. “You don’t say.”

“Trust me, the man is a savage. He treats her like a slave.”

“Perhaps you should be more careful with the display of your affections,” Kaldar suggested. “Saltlickers are known for their temper.”

“He can’t do anything to me.” Francis pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I’m the baron’s guest. She’s chained to that monster. A woman so refined, so delicate, should be shielded from the rigors of the world, so they don’t bruise her. She is completely helpless, you see . . .”

Jack choked on his food and made some coughing noises that sounded suspiciously like feline laughter.

“Did I say something funny?” Francis peered at him.

“Not at all,” Kaldar said. “Please continue.”

“She should be free to make her own choices.”

“And are you determined to liberate her?” Kaldar asked.