Ilona Andrews - Fate's Edge

A knock sounded through the door leading to Cerise’s quarters.

“Come in!”

Cerise stepped into her room carrying an odd collection of buckles and belts, attached to an oblong metal disk. About four inches wide and six inches long, the disk bore the complex ornamentation of the Weird that usually meant there were high-magic gears inside.

“What’s this for?”

“An emergency escape harness.” Cerise handed her the harness. “Think of it as a parachute. Kaldar has this too, more than one. They come standard issue on most missions. You never know when you have to dive off a mountain cliff. If you put your night suit on, we can fit it over it, then pick a good dress to hide it.”

On autopilot, Audrey ran her hands along the belts, checking them for weak spots. “Why did you decide to work for the Mirror?”

Cerise sat next to her on the bed. “About two years ago, my family was in trouble. William made a deal with the Mirror: they would give us asylum in Adrianglia. In return, he has to work for them for ten years. He’s a changeling who’s been trained as a soldier. The work is good for him. It lets him practice all the skills he already has.” Cerise sighed. “And if something happened to him while he was working off his debt to the Mirror, I would never forgive myself. I don’t want him to die because of my family. So I go with him. That way, there are two of us, and we watch each other’s back.”

“What happens if William stops working for the Mirror before ten years are up?” Audrey asked.

“He won’t. He gave his word. But if he ever did, our family would lose its asylum.”

“And Kaldar?”

“Kaldar has no similar agreements with the Mirror,” Cerise said. “He does it because he wants revenge. And because, if something happened to William, his work and mine would give the Mirror an additional incentive to keep protecting our family.”

Nothing in the world was free. Audrey looked at the harness.

“Look, it’s not that bad.” Cerise grinned at her. “I enjoy it. As long as we follow the orders and deliver the results, they treat us like heroes. Come on, it’s time to get dressed.”

HALF an hour later, a guard knocked on her door. The auction was about to begin. She and Cerise followed William and the guard through the hallway to a large room Audrey promptly dubbed “Blue Hall.”

The Blue Hall had five exits, the one through which they had entered and two in each of the side walls. All the walls were painted a bright, happy blue. Two guards decorated each entrance, looking like they meant business. Two additional guards stood at the end of the room, where an auctioneer’s block rose, facing rows of white chairs upholstered with blue, with an aisle between them. A throne-like chair stood to the block’s left, facing the audience. No doubt that was where Morell would sit. As they were led to their seats, Audrey craned her neck and spotted the boys in the third row, watched over by Gaston in black leather, with the kind of scowl that made people cringe. Farther toward the auctioneer’s podium, Kaldar was talking to Morell. They seemed relaxed, their postures telegraphing calm nerves. Morell was smiling. The robber baron seemed to genuinely like Kaldar.

Like him or not, Morell would kill Kaldar all the same. She’d counted twelve guards in the Blue Hall alone. She wasn’t the only one looking, either. All around her, bodyguards scanned the room, ushering their employers to their seats.

Cerise took her seat—the third chair in the row. Audrey paused, expecting William to follow, but he shook his head. “Get in.”

“But shouldn’t you sit together?”

“You’ll sit between us,” William said. “We can better protect you that way.”

Audrey sat next to Cerise. Kaldar’s cousin squeezed her hand, and whispered, “Stay close to me.”

A moment later, Francis landed in the chair in front of Cerise, turned, and hit her with a melodramatic stare.

Helena d’Amry strode through the door. Tall, elegant, she seemed to project aristocratic haughtiness and refinement. People moved out of her way. Men bowed. Women gave her the evil eye and shriveled the moment her slit-pupiled eyes glanced at them.

The tattooed man who’d thrown Gnome’s head at Audrey followed Helena, barely a step behind. Sebastian, Audrey remembered. Fear squirmed through her in a cold, nauseating wave. She tensed and forced herself to look past him at the rest of Helena’s crew. Four more people rounded out Helena’s party: a bald man, hard and sharp, naked to the waist and carrying a sword; a large woman with a mane of red hair, who could probably pick up any person in the room and hurl them into a wall; a cloaked figure who could be either female or male; and another man who moved with a jerky gait. He looked hungry, and he surveyed the people in front of him like they were meat.

Helena walked by her and slowed. Bright emerald eyes took her measure. The stare promised death. Audrey stared back.

The blueblood bitch arched her eyebrows and moved on, and Audrey found herself face-to-face with Sebastian. She looked into his eyes and saw a completely different kind of threat. He inclined his head in a mocking bow and kissed the air.

It took everything she had to keep her expression calm.

The man smiled, showing her a mouthful of fangs, and followed Helena like a loyal dog. They sat two rows ahead. The bald man took a chair behind them.

Audrey took a deep breath, forced a smile, and tried to pretend she was safe and carefree.

“IS there a particular item your mistress is interested in?” Morell asked.

Kaldar smiled. “The painting, Nature’s Cathedral .” He’d taken a good look at it in the vault while Audrey had tinkered with the box. He saw her now, sitting next to Cerise. William and Cerise would look after her. He had to look after the boys. As long as all of them minded their p’s and q’s, they would get out of here alive.

“Ah! One of Francis’s pieces. I believe I could make your life significantly easier—”

A commotion broke out at the door. A moment later, the veekings parted, and a man in a complicated pleated tunic and a pleated kilt that marked him as West Egyptian marched into the room. Muscular, he moved like a panther, stalking and graceful. A gold band sat on his short black hair, encircling his forehead, bright against skin the color of hazelnut. His face, all sharp angles and hard lines, radiated arrogance, and his eyes, completely black, promised no quarter. His tunic and his kilt were of deep emerald green.

Behind him five men moved into the room. Dressed in black, of identical height, all dark, all athletic, all with an obvious military bearing. The man in green clapped, and the five warriors snapped into a half-moon formation behind him.

Green, gold, and black. Bast colors.

The butler banged a staff at the door. “Prince Abubakar of West Egypt.”

The Claws of Bast. Fucking shit.

How did they even find them?

A servant ran up to Morell’s side and handed him an invitation. Morell glanced at it. “I see Jennifer Lowe won’t be attending, either. Apparently, she surrendered her invitation to the prince. His lips curved in a smile. “I seem to be in the company of all sorts of new friends. How interesting. I do hope we will all get along.”

AUDREY fanned herself with the booklet listing the items for auction. They had been in the Blue Hall for over an hour. Francis’s painting came and went. Kaldar and Cerise had gotten into a serious bidding war over it for appearance’s sake. Kaldar won, and now Cerise pretended to pout. Morell gazed on all of it from his throne, enjoying every second.

“Lot twenty-seven,” the thin woman who served as the auctioneer announced. “The Bracelets of Kul.”