And yes, Silverdun was there. But that wasn't why.
There was a knock at the door of her office, and she quickly hid the papers under a blotter. She had no intention of saying good-bye. She intended to simply leave the packet of documents on the stage, with a bound glamour of herself, waving good-bye.
'Someone waiting to see you in the lobby,' said Rieger.
Since the incident in his room, when she'd healed him, Rieger hadn't been able to look her in the eye. Something inexplicable had happened to him that night. He was both grateful and at the same time clearly frightened of her now. They hadn't touched each other since that night.
Faella stood and adjusted her hair in the mirror. She'd deal with whoever was waiting in the lobby and then retire back to her office with a bottle of that cheap wine and finish signing the papers, wait for everyone to go home, and then stage her exit.
The lobby was nearly empty; a few stragglers stood at the door: couples prolonging their dates, lonely men and women with no place better to go. She couldn't see anyone who might be looking for her.
'`Twine' was most remarkable,' said a voice behind her.
She turned, and there was Perrin Alt, Lord Silverdun, new face and all. He was dressed not as a nobleman but as a merchant from the City Emerald, a hat pulled low over his forehead. He looked her in the eye and smiled wide.
'Lord Silverdun,' she said evenly. 'What a surprise.' Her heart was bolting in her chest, threatening to break out of her and go running off down the avenue.
'It's good to see you again,' he said. His voice was plain, honest, not at all vengeful or contemptuous. Either he'd forgiven her, or he was doing an excellent job of faking it.
'You as well,' she said. Was her voice shaking? She prayed it wasn't.
'I need to speak with you,' he said. He looked around the lobby. 'In private, if we might. It's a matter of some importance.'
A matter of some importance.
'Of course,' she said. 'Come with me.' She led him through the lobby, behind the ticket counter, backstage, and into her office. He shut the door behind them.
'What is it that I can do for you?' she asked.
He reached out and took her by the shoulders, pulled her to him. He pressed himself up roughly against her, kissing her.
Oh.
All of her fantasies suddenly realized in a moment, Faella's head swam. She wasn't sure at first how her body was responding, her thoughts spinning so wildly that she almost forgot where she was.
But then she felt his hand on the small of her back, and it was clear that her body was responding just fine without her.
She leaned back on the desk, pushing the blotter out of the way, drawing him on top of her. As her carefully prepared documents fluttered to the floor, she considered simply leaving them there and letting the Bittersweet Wayward Mestina work it out on their own.
'I was wondering how long it would take you to find your way back to me,' she breathed.
He stopped kissing her neck long enough to whisper, 'I was wondering how long I could resist.'
It is the rare man who is both foolish enough to make a stupid decision and at the same time wise enough to profit from it.
-Master Jedron
his had better work,' said Everess. 'By my reckoning, the invasion of the Unseelie begins any minute now, and we're making these Chthonics angrier by the minute, mucking around in their temple like this.'
Four days had passed since Ironfoot's revelation. In that time, war preparations had been completed, troops massed at the border. Jem-Aleth, the Seelie ambassador, had been expelled from the City of Mab yesterday without comment. War had come.
Ironfoot stood on the altar of the Temple of Bound Althoin, carefully composing a set of bindings. The deconstructed cynosure was back in place, floating above the altar, but now it had been rebuilt with some crude additions: a few hard runes, a channeling glass. Several of the paperthin leaves that had once resided within the cynosure were now connected to it by lengths of silver thread, their surfaces etched by Silverdun's Elements with additional markings of Ironfoot's design. 'I told you,' said Ironfoot, not looking down. 'The device is calibrated to work from this location only. If we try to use it somewhere else, we'll end up in the wrong
