another step forward and she realized it was her armature that had attracted his attention.
'Your straps are loose,' he said critically, then lifted his gaze. For a moment the lenses of his glasses flashed white in the lamplight. 'And two of your feathers are damaged.'
Taya swallowed.
'Yes, exalted. I was in an accident. I'll get them repaired as soon as I return to the eyrie.' She looked down at her harness and wished she'd taken the time to re-coil all her lines and re-fasten all her buckles. She'd been in too much of a hurry to finish up for the day. 'I'm sorry.'
'Don't be so unpleasant, Cristof. The young lady appears to have been working hard today.'
Taya glanced up and saw Decatur Forlore smiling at her. He was young, for a member of the Council — he couldn't be much into his thirties, and most council members were in their sixties. She remembered seeing his name on her list of important people. Forlore. He was a programmer, but he hadn't voted often enough to be politically categorized yet.
'It's a matter of safety.' Cristof's voice was stern. 'An armature is a sensitive piece of machinery. It shouldn't be mistreated like this.'
'I didn't mistreat it!' Taya protested. The exalted's eyebrows rose, and she bit her bottom lip.
'Then what happened to you?' Forlore asked, before Cristof could respond to her outburst. Taya bowed, eager to explain before she was criticized again.
'One of the wireferry girders broke, exalted, and—'
'Viera!' The decatur pushed away from the table. 'You were the icarus who rescued Viera? We were told what had happened when Caster was called away from the Council. Is she well? How is Ariq?'
'They're both safe, exalted. Neither was injured.'
'Thank the Lady.'
'What caused the accident?' Cristof asked, his grey eyes narrowing behind his glasses.
'I don't know.'
'Who cares? What's important is that no one was hurt,' Forlore said impatiently. 'That is — no one was hurt? None of the rescuers were injured, were they?'
'No, exalted. I don't think so.'
'That's good. By the Forge, Cris,' the exalted said with a touch of irritation, 'you need to get your priorities straight.'
'The icarus had already told us Viera was safe. I asked the next logical question.' Cristof gave the decatur a sidelong look, pushing his glasses higher on his nose. 'You should wonder why it happened, too, Alister. It could have been you in that car.'
'Oh, would you stop worrying over hypotheticals? I've told you before — statistically speaking, you're less likely to get into an accident on a wireferry than you are walking through the city streets,' Forlore said. 'It was probably metal wear. I should adjust the weather variables on the Engine's repair program; the last few winters have been more severe than most.'
'We would all be safer if you did,' Cristof said, stiffly. 'Good evening, Alister. Icarus.'
Taya stepped aside as he brushed past her, wondering again whether she should bow. At last she did, but he was already through the doorway.
She turned back to Decatur Forlore, who shrugged.
'Cristof is brilliant with machines but terrible with people. Come in, icarus. Tell me everything that happened.'
She took a cautious step deeper into the room, afraid her wings would knock something over.
'You had better take those off. There's no point trying to walk through this mess with twelve feet of metal strapped to your back. Here, let me find you a chair. Were you part of the rescue team? You must be exhausted.'
'I can't stay long, exalted—'
'I insist you stay for a few minutes. I intend to hear the entire story before you leave.' The decatur turned, working his way to a desk. 'Would you care for a glass of wine?'
'No, thank you. I have to fly back,' she said with regret. Wine was a luxury she could seldom afford, and it was unheard-of for an exalted to offer a glass to a mere icarus. But flying required precision work, especially with damaged feathers. She glanced at the clock on his table, thinking of Katerin's wedding. Time was slipping by. At this rate, she was going to have to choose between a bath and dinner, if she wanted to get to the ceremony on time.
Well, there'd be food at the reception.
'I hardly imagine half a glass will impair your judgment.' Forlore pulled out an open bottle and rummaged until he found two glasses. 'Consider it a command, if you wish.'
'Well, exalted, if you put it that way…. 'She set the package aside and unbuckled her harness. When she looked up, she saw him smiling at her. She instinctively smiled back, then blushed.
Exalted
, she reminded herself, pulling off her flight cap.
Mind your caste!
'What's your name, icarus?'
'Taya, exalted.' She left the armature bobbing behind her and gave him a proper bow, trying to restore a safe formality between them. He was still gazing at her, looking bemused. Her short hair was probably standing on end. It always did, after a long day of flying.
'I don't believe I have ever seen you here before. I'm sure I would have remembered you.'
'I'm here every couple of days, exalted, flying one errand or another.'
'Is that so?' He poured a half-glass and handed it to her, then filled a glass for himself. He tilted the glass in a brief toast. 'I should get out of my office more often.'
Was he flirting? Did she want him to be flirting? Flustered, Taya looked around the crowded room, seeking a noncommittal response.
'I can see where getting out of here might pose a problem.'
He laughed.
'I know this must appear chaotic, but I assure you that I have a very scientific filing system.'
'And the floor is part of it?'
'The system is deeply encrypted.'
Taya smothered her smile. Lady, what was she doing? She had to get back to the eyrie.
'I brought you something to add to it, then.' She handed him the package from the College of Mathematics, then sipped her wine as he opened it.
Definitely a new Council member, she thought, watching him as he read. No exalted had ever poured her a drink before, or engaged her in small talk. They seemed peculiarly thoughtful gestures for a member of the ruling caste. The exalteds, forged by the Lady with the superior insight and intellect they needed to protect Ondinium, seldom wasted much time on the lower castes.
Superior insight and intellect.
Her lips quirked as she let her gaze roam across the clutter that surrounded them.
You'd think the product of a thousand fortunate rebirths would be a little more organized.
'Well, I can't say I'm delighted by these statistics, but I appreciate your delivering them.' Forlore set the papers down and looked up. 'You're still standing. Sit down. You can remove that bust from the chair behind you. Set it on the floor.'
'Are you sure I won't disrupt your filing system?' she asked, moving the head away and taking a seat.
'Not at all. It belongs there with the other P's.' Forlore leaned against the table, watching her.
'I see.' She returned his look, keeping her face impassive. 'Would that be ‘P’ for Abatha Cardium or ‘P’ for
