False Covenant

Evrard stood some few feet away, the fingers of his left hand idly stroking his chin. The grin that spread above those fingers was openly predatory. “Ah. I see you've puzzled it out. And by what name shall I call you, hmm?”

Madeleine-Widdershins-bit her lip and answered with a glare that would have sent a gorgon crying home to mommy.

The d'Arras scion only chuckled. “It's only, there's so much potential here! I'm not actually sure what to do with this first. Though I will say that it answers certain questions about how you manage to operate as you do.”

By this time, not only had they attracted a wide ring of fascinated observers, but the household guards had finally pressed their way to the front as well. There was no way for Widdershins to prevent several dozen people from hearing whatever it was Evrard chose to say next. She swore she could feel the floor falling away beneath her feet. It wasn't so bad as when her life as Adrienne Satti had ended that horrible night all those years ago, but it was uncomfortably similar.

And with that realization, her head abruptly rose. Unblinking, back straight, and voice steady, she said simply, “I won't dance for you, Evrard. Do what you have to do.”

Evrard's smile faltered. Clearly, he'd been hoping for something a bit more satisfying. “All right, then. If that's the way it's to be, I-”

Whatever he might have done was halted, however, by a sudden cacophony of shouts. Some surprise, some grief, but largely a chorus of anger, they filtered in through the open door and the nearby windows from some commotion or other on the roads outside.

It was enough to draw everyone's attention from the much smaller and more personal drama that had been playing out before them. The Lamarr men-at-arms dashed for the exit to see what was happening, a great many of the guests trailing in their wake.

“Great timing, Olgun! How did you-?”

Much of Widdershins's growing elation wafted away as swiftly as it had risen at the god's confused reply. “But if you didn't, then what's happening out there?”

Before the god could answer, assuming he even had an answer, Evrard was suddenly directly before her, utterly filling her vision. “If you think this is going to distract us from finishing this, Widdershins, you-”

“Really?” she breathed, her jaw dropping as she stared over his shoulder. “Not even that?”

It's possible that Evrard, who certainly didn't trust the young thief, might have recognized the diversion for what it was-if her abrupt look of astonishment had been all there was to it. At that same moment, however, Olgun reached out to tweak the cork on a bottle of effervescent wine sitting, unopened, atop a nearby table. Thus, at the precise instant that Widdershins gawped at nothing over her enemy's shoulder, a harsh pop sounded from the same direction.

It was all enough to inspire Evrard to twist his neck in an attempt to see what had snagged her attention-at which point Widdershins kicked him in the groin (again), then kneed him in the face as he doubled over. He made a muffled grunting sort of sound as he hit the floor, something that might, or might not, have been an unintelligible garble of “Quit that!”

“I could get used to this,” Widdershins observed, though whether to Evrard, Olgun, Squirrel, or nobody at all was unclear.

Actually, no; not Squirrel. Glancing around, she realized abruptly that the wriggly little thief had disappeared at some point during her confrontation with Evrard.

Well, nothing to be done about it now, and she was pretty sure she'd run into him again. Deciding that she probably ought to see precisely what had caused the commotion that had so conveniently saved her from embarrassment at the least, and possibly arrest or even worse, she strode forward to get a better view. Again, Olgun's power reached out, twisting this footstep or tugging at that lace, so that Widdershins had a relatively easy time pressing through the throng.

And after a single, quick glimpse of what was happening, she just as rapidly retreated back into the dining room. A number of the City Guard were assembled outside, led by one Major Julien Bouniard. Widdershins actually would have loved to talk to him just then, to see a friendly face-and that was all it was, by the gods, no matter what her heart rate was doing! — but on the off chance that she escaped this mess with her Madeleine Valois guise intact, the last thing she needed was to give any Guardsman, even one she more or less trusted, the opportunity to see through it.

But while she didn't know why the Guard was here, she'd seen enough to know what it was that the constables had found, and what had caused their obvious consternation.

The street beyond the gateway to the estate was strewn with a handful of bodies, bodies that would never have been visible from the house if several of the constables hadn't been gathering them for study and transport. Tabards and weapons suggested that the dead included both Lamarr men-at-arms and actual Guardsmen-probably the men and women assigned to protect the Marquise's soiree. At this distance, Widdershins couldn't possibly begin to determine how they'd died, other than that it was bloody. Olgun might have enhanced her vision enough for her to do so, but that would require her to remain in sight of Julien and the others for longer than she was comfortable with.

Not that Julien and the others were staying outside. Although a few Guardsmen remained behind to watch over the bodies until a wagon arrived, the major himself led the bulk of his squad straight for the front door. The guests fell back as the constables burst in with hands on hilts. Julien Bouniard first began snapping orders to the household men-at-arms, essentially drafting them into his command until further notice, and then demanded to see Berdine Jolivet at once. The marquise herself-certainly not far from the commotion that had disrupted her well- planned evening-began worming her way through the throng. As said throng was too tightly packed to easily give way before her, it took her a few moments to reach the major; moments that Widdershins, in turn, used to back even farther away.

“Olgun?”

But she didn't have to ask. Already, people were “conveniently” shifting and shuffling, moving just enough that Julien wouldn't have a clear line of sight to Widdershins even if he happened to glance in her direction.

At which point, now that she had a few seconds to think and to breathe, it occurred to Widdershins to check behind her.

Yep. Evrard was gone. Apparently, whatever he had in mind, this was no longer the audience for it.

“Well,” she sniffed at Olgun, “I hope he's sore enough that it hurt to walk out of here.”

She'd expected a chuckle (or rather, the pocket god's emotional equivalent). What she got, instead, was a moment of pensive silence, followed by an abrupt surge of horror and an irresistible urge to make for the stairs.

“Whoa! Olgun, what-?”

Olgun kept tugging at her mind.

“Oh, sure. Suddenly dash out for no reason? That's not exactly the best way to avoid attention, you-”

If Olgun had a voice, per se, it would have risen to a shriek. She swore she could feel phantom hands shoving her toward the steps.

“All right! I hope you know what you're doing….”

The staircase itself was a sweeping wing of broad, shallow steps, lush carpeting, and polished hardwood banisters. Widdershins had actually ascended about a third of those steps, one hand lifting the hem of her skirts so that she could walk unimpeded, when the first voice called out for her to stop.

Julien. Of course.

Widdershins proceeded as though she hadn't heard a word of it. A few more steps passed beneath her feet.

“Mademoiselle!” Much harsher this time. “I'm not going to ask you again! Until we've determined what happened outside, we cannot allow anyone to-”

But by that point, Widdershins had gotten far enough up the stairs so that, after a tingling in the air to indicate Olgun's assistance, she could more than smell the faint ambiance wafting down from above.

Blood. And peppermint.