Tal said, “I don’t understand the point of the story.”
The cadets looked at him as though he’d spoken in a foreign tongue and they lacked a dictionary of translation.
He shrugged and began passing out papers.
“What’s this?” asked Spider.
“Maps of various sections of the City of Opal. Start studying them. We’re going for the ecclesiastical detention cells, or some of us are. Others will be creating havoc and diverting Security to other areas. I trust you’ve brought your explosives.”
“Tommy’s the person to ask,” said a girl, motioning to an ugly, raw-boned cadet with red hair who’d been sitting silently through the talk.
He looked up. “Of course. My personal preference is for ambrite, if that’s acceptable to you.”
Tal examined the boy. He was not prepossessing, but so far as Spider could tell he was the only cadet who hadn’t brought a liquor supply with him. “Ambrite is fine.”
“Good,” said Tommy, and he crossed his legs and took a set of maps. He was also the only cadet who tended not to say “sir.” As he was a Graykey, Spider could not tell if this meant a lack of respect, lack of enmity, or lack of interest.
Tal returned to the flight deck, and when the singing started, Spider joined him. “They exercise, too, you know,” he said. “For hours.”
“You could stand to join them,” said Tal.
“God bear me witness,” said Spider. “Is it my fault I’ve got a human metabolism? I’ve never seen you exercise in your life.”
“Maybe you should follow me for a few days. I’ve been known to use the gyms on the admin level.” He picked up the copy of Pride and Prejudice. “Would you like me to arrange an admission for you there?”
“Thanks, but I’ve got enough calls on my time as it is. Anyway,” he said mournfully, looking down at his stomach, “if you thought I was out of shape, you could have left me home.”
“I wouldn’t do that to you, Spider. I know you hate suspense.”
Spider took a seat and pushed it back into a lounging position. Three days to Opal; and God only knew what happened then. He’d been up for over twenty hours, but he felt wide awake. The sound of unintelligible but enthusiastic lyrics rose up from below. He snapped the chair upright again.
“Do you have any other books with you?”
“No,” said Tal, turning a page.
Keylinn:
I was given a very nice room on the City of Opal, as detention suites went. This one was obviously meant for high-ranking prisoners—it was well-carpeted, with tables and chairs and a bed with a carved headboard. None of that served to reassure me as to my ultimate fate.
I would have been pleased that they left me alone for several days, if it weren’t a procedure I’d been taught was standard for softening prisoners before interrogation. The reasoning behind this bothered me. I had no information I was aware of that Opal could want; so what did that leave? Given the political situation here, what if they wanted me to confess to something? They burnt people here, didn’t they? I would have to be careful not to say anything that resembled confession—it would reflect badly on the Diamond and my contract-holder.
To fight my uneasiness, I did subjectivity exercises for hours, followed by physical ones. The subjectivity exercises bolstered my confidence; eluding the trap of a single ego always made death less frightening. When at last a guard in black came to escort me from the suite, I felt ready to be courteous and relaxed with my captors. Imprisonment is no excuse for rudeness, after all.
There was only one man waiting for me; he wore civilian clothing, breeches and a white shirt with rolled sleeves. He sat alone at a deskchair, with another pulled nearby for me, although there was no desk or table to hide behind. He was a big man. I took the seat when he gestured and said, “Lord Cardinal Arno, isn’t it? You were pointed out to me once on the Diamond.”
He looked faintly surprised. I wondered if he hadn’t planned on introducing himself.
“You did leave on your ring,” I pointed out, inclining my head toward the heavy gold and onyx piece he wore on his right hand. I could see, from the elegant angle of his hand resting on the arms—an elegance that did not go with such a large man—that it was engraved.
“So I did. But it would be wrong to take it off.” His voice was deep and authoritative; it would, I thought, stand him well with Howard Talmadge’s repertory company.
“Yes,” I agreed, and waited.
There was no table, no bright lights in the room; no subordinate to witness and no obvious machine to take notes. Just the two chairs and what looked like a dying potted plant in the comer.
He said, “It would please me to speak to you as a friend.”
“Certainly you may speak as you wish, Lord Cardinal.”
Amo placed his big, workmanlike hands on his lap, the ring making a gold and black lump. “I have no personal dislike for you, Miss Gray. You’re very young, and you had not our advantages in your upbringing. There are people here who would damn you for that, but I am not one of them.”
“Thank you, Lord Cardinal.”
“But as long as you’re here in our hands—and you are in our hands, there’s no getting around that—I was hoping you could assist us with some general information.”
I leaned back. Did he know how insulting such an offer was to a Graykey? Couldn’t Ennis have briefed him on that much? The very act of refusal was undignified. I felt the distant tickle of my personal daimon and heard myself say, in a voice devoid of respect, “You know, I once had a teacher who used to say, ‘Keylinn, that soft head of yours is going to get you in deep trouble someday.’ And heavens, it looks as though—”
Amo’s slap cut me off. My cheek stung. One slap, and
