moment of its freedom. Mice were clever at hiding and not being noticed. They also had sharp teeth.
‘A mouse it is.’ He went out.
Two-and-a-half hours later Tali was standing by Tobry, clutching his arm, among the gaudy throng outside the ballroom door. The sapphire gown he had found for her was pretty and suited her complexion, but it was heavy and confining and she was already beginning to perspire. The elastic of her mouse mask was cutting into her ears.
‘Lady Felysse?’ said Tobry in a low, amused voice.
It took a moment before she realised that he was talking to her. ‘Yes, my lord?’
‘You’re crushing my poor wrist bones to splinters.’
She unclenched her hand. ‘Sorry. Is there any sign of Rix?’
‘No, and I’m really worried. It’s not like him. It’ll be a mortal insult if he fails to appear for his father’s Honouring and the portrait’s unveiling.’ He put her hand on his arm in the correct position.
The huge double doors were opened and the couples began to enter the ballroom, their names being announced as they did. Tali could hardly breathe. Her figure required no corset, but the gown was so tight under the bust that it was an effort to breathe.
‘You’re clenching again,’ muttered Tobry. ‘Relax.’
‘I’m scared. What if Lady Ricinus recognises me when we’re introduced?’
‘She’s never seen you before. Besides, she’s not going to take a second look at any girl on
‘Why not?’ she said, bristling for him.
‘I have no land, no family, no money and no prospects. The House of Lagger was utterly disgraced before it fell, and I’m only here because Rix insisted on it.’
His words did not alleviate her anxiety. ‘What if she talks to me?’
‘Blush prettily and look confused. An air of charming vacantness goes a long way in such situations.’
‘How would you know?’
The line moved forwards. Lord and Lady Ricinus were just ahead. Tali realised she was clenching Tobry’s arm again and consciously relaxed. She allowed her jaw to go slack, her red-tinted lower lip to droop like Lifka’s. Now, that was a look she could emulate.
‘
She corrected, and just in time. They were being announced.
‘Lord Tobry Lagger of House — er, Lord Tobry,’ said the announcer, ‘and his second cousin, Lady Felysse Tybell of Murge.’
Lord Ricinus, who was immaculately dressed but swaying like a sailboat in a heavy sea, took Tali’s hand. His hand was oozing sweat and had a revolting, pulpy feel. She released it and turned to Lady Ricinus.
Lady Ricinus extended two gloved fingers and said in a bored voice, without looking at her, ‘Charmed.’
Tali bowed and they passed on.
‘That wasn’t so bad, was it?’ said Tobry. ‘Now, some of the gavottes are particularly tricky and you don’t want to attract attention to yourself. I should have asked this before, but — which are your best dances?’
Tali fell from a great height. ‘I’ve never danced in my life.’
CHAPTER 90
Rix groaned, opened gummy eyes and saw nothing. Had he gone blind? Was he dead? His head felt as though an axe was embedded in it, his mouth was dry as a vulture’s armpit and the fur on his tongue had fur on it.
He rolled over and cried out. There was a lump on the back of his head the size of a half melon. He groped around him, felt a stone wall and pulled himself up on it, and saw the familiar outline of the palace roof beyond. What was he doing at the top of his tower? He hadn’t been up here in months. An icy wind whistled in between the low perimeter wall and the spiralling roof. It was a wonder he hadn’t frozen to death.
His mouth tasted of wine gone sour and stale vomit. He must have been royally drunk last night, though he could not remember anything after Lady Ricinus had left. Rix smelled painter’s oil on his hands and a glimmer of memory came back.
He’d been painting the murder scene in the cellar; painting and drinking.
So drunk he could barely focus on the canvas.
The staring, haunted girl.
The young woman’s head torn open.
The bloody ebony pearl …
Rix groaned. His head was bursting with the effort to remember.
Then another glimmer: two faces, finally emerging from his frozen memories, the killers on the canvas.
Lord and Lady Ricinus.
‘Why, why?’ he cried, but the howling wind drowned him out.
Rix was pounding his fists against a column when he remembered one final fragment. Utterly dishonoured and with no way out, he had staggered up here to throw himself off his tower. Evidently he had fallen and knocked himself out. He couldn’t even kill himself successfully.
It must have been many hours ago, otherwise his mouth would not be so dry. But why was it still dark? Had he lain unconscious all day? No wonder his tongue was like a leather strap hung over a fence. He was lucky to be alive.
Lucky to be the son of vicious killers?
Lucky to have betrayed his own mother for high treason? He remembered that.
Judging by the stars, it was around ten o’clock. The Honouring Ball would be nearly over. He had promised to be there, and he was not. He had broken his word, shamed his father and humiliated his mother. And, oddly, their crimes could not excuse his own behaviour. If a man’s word was not sacred, what kind of a man was he?
He must attend the Honouring. He would perform that last duty for his parents. And then? What came first, duty to them or obedience to the law? Was he supposed to turn them in for murder? That would, unquestionably, destroy House Ricinus. Did his duty to House and family outweigh the victim’s need for justice?
He did not know, but one thing was very clear. If he turned them in it would destroy him too, because he would know in the chambers of his heart that he had betrayed those whom he had vowed to honour.
Rix stumbled down to his studio. The cellar painting was gone. Tobry must have put it away and Rix thanked the Gods for that. He could not bear to look at it.
He smiled grimly as he put on the ceremonial garments Lady Ricinus’s maid had laid out for him, adjusted the angle of the lapis cravat and his scarlet, plumed hat, and wiped a speck of dust from his gleaming boots. After buckling on the titane sword, he checked himself in the scalderium mirror. He would perform this final service, put on this final show, as best the heir of House Ricinus could.
Not even Lady Ricinus could fault his presentation this time. Even if she had brought the chancellor down, Rix would see his unworthy father honoured, then walk away. Let House Ricinus rise, or all come crashing down behind him. He would never look back. He would go to the front lines and die there, defending his country and trying to assuage his blighted honour the only way he knew.
The halls were empty — every servant in the palace would be called to witness the Honouring. Outside, people were still partying in the streets. Fireworks climbed the sky near the city gates, though the celebrations rang falsely in his mind. If they thought the enemy had gone, they were as deluded as the priestesses who gathered on the sacred mountain and commanded the ice to withdraw from Hightspall, the magians who tried to melt ten thousand cubic miles of icecap with their pathetic spells.
And always, always in the back of his mind, was the unanswerable question — why had the ten-year-old Rix been there when Tali’s mother had been murdered?
He thrust open the doors of the Great Hall so hard that they slammed back against the wall to either side.
