the Council building, and we won't have any problem avoiding the broken lines. The only danger will be the wind, and I'll help you navigate it.'
'It's not the wind that worries me. It's the distance to the ground.'
'You aren't afraid of heights, are you?' Taya teased, glancing at his sharp profile, which was cast into relief by the late afternoon sun. He was wearing a cross expression again.
'I'm terrified of them.'
He said it so tonelessly that she burst into laughter. He shot her a dark look, stopping in the street.
'I'm sorry! I'm not laughing because you're afraid,' she apologized. He glared, hunching his shoulders. A gust of wind flapped his coat around him, making him look like a crow with its feathers ruffled. 'It's just that it explains so much. That's why you keep track of wireferry repairs, isn't it? I wish you'd told me sooner.' A dry leaf whirled up and stuck to his hair. She reached up and plucked it away.
'It's not something I felt comfortable admitting to an icarus.'
'Don't be silly.' She let the leaf go, watching it tumble away in another gust. Cristof reached up and irritably brushed at the place where it had been. 'If you're afraid of heights, you shouldn't go. I can keep you from falling, but if you freeze or panic, you might still get hurt.'
'I won't panic.'
'You never know how you'll react until you're up there.'
'I'll be fine. I don't have a choice, so I'll do it.' Impatience was creeping into his voice.
'All right. You don't need to get angry.'
'I'm not angry.' His voice was taut. 'I'm not snapping, shouting, shaking, or lecturing. Nor am I pretending to be anything I am not. In fact, I am being very honest. Is that satisfactory, icarus?'
'Yes, exalted.' She sighed. He would get moody again, just when they were starting to have a real conversation. 'Is your brother's house nearby?'
He stared at her a moment, then tugged up his collar and turned away.
'It's right over there.'
Estate Forlore didn't seem any different from the other houses around it; a huge edifice behind an iron gate. Cristof strode toward it as though eager to get away from her.
Taya drew in a deep lungful of the cold autumn air and watched Cristof search through his pockets until he found a ring of keys.
'You have a key to Alister's house?'
'It's my house too. And Alister had the keys to my shop.'
When he got the gate open they walked up the path to the door, and he rang. A famulate woman dressed in mourning opened it, then stepped back, bowing. Taya recognized the servant from her dinner with Alister.
'Good afternoon, exalted. We've been awaiting your visit.'
'I should have come by yesterday. I was distracted.' Cristof stepped inside, dropping his gate keys back into his pocket. 'Is Mitta here? I need to talk to her about — arrangements.'
'Of course.'
'This is Taya Icarus. See that she's made comfortable.' He turned to her. 'I need a few minutes to talk to Alister's housekeeper.' He looked wary, as if expecting her to argue with him. But the servant's black livery and the black cloth draped over the mirrors in the foyer served as stark reminders of why they were there, and Taya just nodded.
'That's fine,' she said. She should have guessed that Cristof would be the executor of his brother's will. 'I'll wait.'
'Would you prefer to doff your wings, icarus?' the servant asked, as Cristof vanished through a side passage. Taya nodded and left her armature behind in the cloak room. The servant led her into a parlor where a small fire burned, and she was soon settled in with a glass of warm spiced wine. It might have been pleasant, if she could forget that she was in a dead man's house.
Alister's taste had run to contemporary artists, she saw, studying the names on the paintings that hung on the walls. One of the works she recognized from last year's exhibition at the Ondinium Museum of Fine Art. She'd gone with Cassi and Pyke, but they'd abandoned Pyke after about half an hour of listening to him rail against the ‘anti-aesthetic’ of contemporary art. They'd wanted to enjoy the paintings, not think about the politics surrounding them.
Alister's furnishings looked up-to-date, too, which fitted her evolving mental image of him. He'd decorate the way he lived, she thought, looking around. Always looking for something new. The only thing that didn't fit was the parlor's neatness. Alister's office had been a mess. But then, he hadn't had servants in Oporphyr Tower to pick up after him.
She leaned back in the leather chair by the fire and sighed, cradling the glass between her cold fingers. A long-case clock ticked by the door. Had Cristof taken care of it? Her eyes moved to the mantel. It was bare.
Maybe that's where the clock Cristof repaired would have sat.
The clock that had been destroyed along with the wireferry and its two passengers.
Suddenly restless, Taya stood and left the room, walking down the hall. More paintings hung along the walls. She stopped to study one that depicted two icarii in flight and remembered Alister's joke about skydancing. He'd pretended he'd never heard of it, but Cristof's story and this painting proved otherwise. Had he been taught by some icarus girl who'd been flattered by the attentions of a handsome young exalted? Had he flown with a mask over his face, or, surrounded by icarii, had he dared to take it off and hope that nobody on the ground would look up and see the waves on his cheeks?
Her anger at his lies was fading. She stepped back to look at the other paintings. They could have belonged to a complete stranger.
I didn't know him
, she thought with resignation.
I'm sorry he's gone, but I wonder if I would have liked him, once I'd figured out who he was?
Maybe not.
She turned, then started as she realized she was being watched. Cristof stood at the end of the hall, his pale eyes fixed on her. He'd taken off his greatcoat, and his dark suit blended in with the hall's shadows. Only his white cuffs and collar stood out.
'I got tired of sitting in the parlor.'
'You look pensive.'
'I was just looking at this painting.' She gestured to the icarii. 'The artist did a good job.'
'You can have it, if you want.'
'No! No, that's all right.' She didn't want anything of Alister's in her little eyrie apartment. 'I live with icarii. I don't need paintings of them on my walls.'
'I didn't mean to leave you for so long. The staff had a lot of questions.'
'What will happen to them now?'
'They can stay here until I decide what to do with the house.' He walked forward. 'Alister's office is upstairs. Are you done with your drink?'
'Yes.' She followed him as several clocks began to toll, all at the same time. Five in the afternoon. 'Did you take care of Alister's clocks?'
'Usually.' He glanced back at her as he started up a flight of stairs. 'Is your landlady going to fix hers?'
'I don't know.'
'If she doesn't, you should buy an accurate clock for yourself.'
'Clocks are too expensive for an icarus.'
'I thought you earned a reasonable salary.'
'I do all right, considering the Council takes care of my food and housing and provides me with a uniform
