key to lock the door behind us. We had to wait a bit to hail a hack, and for that I was glad for the umbrella, not so much for me as for Seliora.
If it had not have been for the misting rain-and the exposure-Terraza would have been almost close enough to walk, only about a mille, just around the corner on a narrow lane off the Boulevard D’Este, not all that far from Master Kocteault’s, I realized, when we got out of the coach-for-hire.
Not only that, but Odelia and Kolasyn already had a table, a circular one in the far corner, perhaps the best in the restaurant. The woman who guided us there only glanced at me perfunctorily, after admiring, if most covertly, what Seliora wore.
Terraza itself was a good three times the size of Lapinina, but only half that of Felters. The walls were a simple and clean white plaster, with brick pillars showing, and the floor was a clean dark gray tile. All the tables had white cloths, and the wall lamps were of antique brass, frequent enough so that it wasn’t gloomy, but warm in feeling.
Odelia smiled as I seated Seliora, then murmured just loud enough for us to hear. “That was quite an entrance. Everyone kept looking at you two.”
“They were looking at Seliora,” I pointed out, “not me.”
“Any time a beautiful woman appears, escorted by a tall, muscular, and impressive-looking imager, people will look,” Kolasyn replied.
“That’s no reason,” I said with a laugh.
“For some people, it is,” replied Odelia.
A serving girl appeared with two bottles of wine, one red and one white.
“I ordered their house wines,” Odelia explained. “They’re good.”
I managed not to laugh. Odelia and Seliora were definitely better off not being High Holders, not from what I’d heard about the way High Holders treated their wives and daughters.
I decided on the red wine, although I couldn’t have said why. It was light, like a Dhuensa, but had a stronger and fruitier taste, yet I liked it. I lifted the glass to Odelia. “You were right. This is good.”
She smiled, and her eyes flicked to Seliora.
This time, I did laugh as I turned to my partner. “You told her what to order?”
“I just suggested.” Her voice was low and demure, and I could see the mischievous grin struggling to appear.
“Have you ordered everyone’s dinner as well?” My tone was light because I was actually enjoying the banter, and I could barely keep from laughing again.
“You’re right,” interjected Odelia. “He does have a sense of humor.”
The serving girl appeared. “The special tonight is lamb tournedos, with mint yogurt, blue glacian potatoes, and spice-steamed summer beans. . . .” She went on to list more entrees than I could remember fully, which was fine, because I wanted the lamb.
Once she was finished, I nodded to Seliora.
“The greens and fowl with the Cambrisan reduction.”
“The roast mushrooms and the duck confit,” added Odelia.
“The same for me,” said Kolasyn.
“Greens and the lamb special . . . pink, not red,” I said.
After she left, there was a moment of silence. I looked to Kolasyn, perhaps because he had said so little and I so much. “You were talking about reasons why people do things. Do people really have reasons?” As I talked, I slipped out one of the testing strips, holding it well below the edge of the table, and concentrated on imaging the tiniest drop of wine from Seliora’s narrow goblet.
He smiled, then shrugged. “I think so. With people, there’s a reason for everything. The trick is to figure out the reason. Sometimes, they don’t even know it themselves, but if you can discover it, then you have an advantage.”
“Are you sure that everyone has a reason?” asked Seliora, her voice carrying genuine interest. “Besides just having to act?”
I imaged another drop of wine, this time from my goblet.
“If they didn’t have some reason,” Kolasyn replied, “no one would do anything. Maybe they’re hungry, or tired . . . or just don’t want to leave a decision to their wife . . .”
I did grin at that.
I also got a very gentle elbow in the ribs.
The testing strip showed nothing abnormal in either Seliora’s wine or mine.
At that point the first course arrived.
Between the food and the conversation, light as it was, everyone seemed to enjoy the dinner. I also tested the wine and the sparkling water that Odelia had asked for.
Then, just as the server set the lemon tart that was my dessert before me, Seliora glanced toward the frosted-glass door of Terraza. That was the second time she’d done that, I realized. I leaned toward her and asked in a murmur, “Someone out there?”
“Rhenn . . .”
“If I know what’s there,” I replied in a low voice, “I’ll be fine. I don’t want anyone else around.” I slipped from my chair. “If you all will excuse me for a moment . . . I need to stretch. Some of the exercises and running may be catching up with me. I should only be a moment.”
Seliora’s glance all but screamed “Take care!”
I was holding full shields as I stepped out into the continuing light drizzle, and I had them angled, in a way that even Maitre Dyana might have actually approved.
The first bullet barely shook me. I turned, looking through the misty evening, then saw the muzzle flash from beside the trunk of a tree less than twenty yards to my left, across the narrow lane. The jolt staggered me, but only for an instant.
I imaged oil across the stones of the sidewalk behind the tree, since I couldn’t make out any figures. Rather I tried, because the oil just formed a momentary tent in midair before slipping to the ground as two men sprinted from the tree and up an alley. One of them had used an imager’s shield. An imager’s shield?
I started after them, then slowed as I heard hoofs on pavement, but I went far enough to see down the alley and make sure that they had indeed left and that the alley was empty. Then I walked back to the restaurant, realizing that the shield I had encountered hadn’t really been so much strong as different, and that if I’d had a moment longer, I might have gotten through it. Had that been why the two had fled?
One had to be an imager, the other probably the Ferran. What chilled me as much as the presence of an unknown imager was the fact that someone knew where I’d be and when. The imager’s presence also confirmed that Emanus’s death was not accidental and had a part in matters, even if inadvertent, but it still made no sense to me, except that it did suggest that Emanus had known something that the imager believed I now knew. But what could that be?
Before reentering the restaurant, I glanced around again, but the street was empty, not surprisingly, given the rain.
“Do you feel better?” asked Seliora as I returned, after wending my way around several tables.
“The cooler air helped.” I smiled, then sat down again, murmuring to her, “Everything’s fine. They’ve gone.”
Odelia raised an eyebrow, but I just smiled, before taking a bite of the lemon tart. It was every bit as good as the rest of the meal had been. Seliora had a thin slice of almond cake, drizzled with chocolate.
Surprisingly, at least to me, the total for all four of us was only a bit over six silvers, a healthy sum, but not what it could have been.
When we left Terraza, Odelia gave Kolasyn a hug and a kiss, and then joined us for the hack ride back to NordEste Design. I thought Kolasyn looked a bit dejected as he started to walk down the Boulevard D’Este.
Once we were back at Seliora’s, Odelia vanished, and Seliora and I made our way up to the east terrace. Through the mist and the rain, we could barely see three blocks, and certainly not even a fraction of the distance to Martradon. In the darkness, the terrace was cool, but not uncomfortable, especially not after the long embrace that Seliora bestowed upon me as soon as we were clearly alone. We did move the chairs so that we sat side by side, with no table between us.
