He glanced up and saw her looking at him. He took three deep, shaky breaths and said, “I beg your pardon. I must go out for a while.”
“Is something wrong?” Very clearly yes.
“No. Well, yes, but it’s nothing that can’t be handled in time. I just had a very disagreeable interview with the Lord Cardinal of Opal.”
She waited nervously.
“He’s talking about breaking the team. After we signed a goddamned, spelled-out, every-fucking-thing-taken-into-account contract. After I have shown, as God is my witness, the patience of Job—” He halted suddenly and took another deep breath. “I ask your pardon again. I am no fit company for a lady. I suggest… I suggest we stay in our separate chambers tonight. Perhaps by morning I’ll be more worthy of your presence.”
He got up, looked around blankly, and then retrieved his crumpled shirt. He put it back on and strode out of the room, the front of the shirt still unlaced.
Iolanthe stared at the door. Suddenly the suite had taken on that quality of quiet that follows a disaster. She stood there frozen for a few seconds, then she tapped open the door and stepped out into the corridor. There was no sign of her husband. Her first-shift bodyguard, however, was lounging against the wall across the way. He snapped to attention when she came out.
“Please come with me,” she said firmly.
“But madam, you’re not scheduled to go out this afternoon.”
“Something has come up. Are you going to accompany me, or should I travel on my own?”
This was horribly unfair to the poor man, and he chose the lesser of two evils. As he fell in beside her, he said, “May I ask where we’re going, my lady?”
“To the Cavern of Audience.”
The halls outside the Cavern were choked with disgruntled people moving in the opposite direction. Whatever had been going on inside that day had been summarily interrupted.
She found Adrian at the entrance. Their eyes met, and he said, “What are you doing here?” It was an unconscious imitation of her own question to him.
Before she could think of a sensible answer, a man in a black silk shirt and breeches came up, leading two marble panthers on leashes. Io took a few steps back. The panthers wore black hoods, and though the man with the leash seemed to be in control, this was really closer than she had ever planned on coming to these creatures.
She could see the grace of their muscles as they moved. Guided by their keeper, they padded silently to the entrance, where, as they stood waiting, she could clearly hear the tap of an impatient claw against the floor.
Adrian pulled on a pair of thick, dark gloves. He said, “How much did you give them, Paul?”
“About seven cc’s,” said the man in black silk.
“Good,” said Adrian. “I’m restless, I want everybody else to be restless.”
He seemed to have forgotten her. She felt a sudden stirring of anger herself, and it was this more than anything else that made her say, “May I come in, too, sir?”
He turned to her in surprise. Not half as surprised as I am, she thought distantly. “This is serious,” said Adrian shortly. “These animals are dangerous. They’ve been fed and they’ve been a little tranked, but their instincts are not friendly to humans. Understand? I’ll see you tonight.”
“Of course I understand, I’m not a child. I want to come in with you.”
He seemed about to lose patience. “Why?”
“Because I’m your wife.”
He had the look of a man who’d suddenly gone down a step he didn’t see. In other circumstances she would have been tempted to laugh.
When he spoke, the sharpness was gone from his voice. “I can’t. Io, if anything happened to you in there, Opal would hold me responsible. Reasons of state.”
“Do we have to do everything for the sake of Opal? Can’t we do anything just for us?”
“No.”
She pointed to the cats. “This is for you alone, not for the City. If you died, life would be chaos here, but you risk it anyway. Tell me how prudent that is.”
He stared and then gave a strained laugh. “Outreasoned by a seventeen-year-old girl. It’s true, my love, but you’re unkind to point it out. Very well, take my gloves.” He stripped them off and handed them to her. “They tend to go for hands and wrists first, I’m not sure why.”
“What about you?”
“I can’t wait for another pair. They want to get in.”
He gestured to the panthers, but it was clear to Io that he wanted to get in, too.
“All right, open die door,” she said.
The huge carved entrance called the Obsidian Door swung open. She followed Adrian inside. The cavern looked strange empty; all that space—you never saw it without hordes of people. It was like the end of the world. When they were far enough in, Adrian turned and said, “Now, Paul.”
Two black-green shapes flowed past them. The Obsidian Door was closed.
How clever of her. She was alone with Adrian Mercati, reputed murderer of the last Protector, and two lethal panthers.
She turned to him. “Well, my husband, what is it you do now?”
Chapter 37
In the Sangaree section of Opal, Will Stockton was waking up late. He breathed in rose perfume and became aware of a backbone curved against his. Lysette was beside him, as she had been since his return from the Diamond, and he was happy.
She’d finally agreed that since the date was set for their wedding, they might follow the custom of assuming retroactive marriage. By the laws of the Cities a couple once wed was wed forever, and always had been. Hallalujah, thought Will, and he lost no time in moving into her room in Duclos Avenue.
It was enough to wash out the memory of Hart and the dead girl. And to soften the knowledge that reporting Hart would lead nowhere but to the radiation levels for Will himself. Hart was a superior officer, and that was the way the
