“Yeah.” She hesitated. “Listen, Bael. I need to ask you something and whenever I try, you keep distracting me.”
He grinned, remembering the distractions.
“That cave,” she said. “There were symbols on the walls, and all those burned bodies, the silver chain…that was some sort of ritual.”
His smile slipped. Disappeared.
Could he keep the secret for the rest of his life?
Did he need to?
“Maybe,” he said. “I don’t know.”
“Well, it clearly was. What I wanted to ask was, can you think of anyone who might have done it? Any enemies?”
Bael shrugged. “I don’t have any enemies,” he said lightly. At Kett’s frankly disbelieving look, he forced a laugh and said, “Oh, maybe a disgruntled lover or two…”
“Any of them know magic?”
“Nope. No one I know knows magic. No one knows. I know no one who knows,” he babbled.
Kett looked skeptical. “And those symbols? On the walls?”
“Didn’t see any symbols. It was dark,” he protested. “Look, Kett, why is this even important? We’re here, we’re both safe and, well, it’s Yule, it’s-”
“It’s a ritual that could have gotten us both killed!” Kett said. “Whoever strung us up there clearly wasn’t intending to give us tea and cakes afterward. That was something dark, and I’ve researched but I can’t find anything, not even-”
“Not even what?” Bael asked, alarmed. What did she know about magic? The Federacion recruited from all over the place. Strong, young men and women to fight for them. To kidnap magical creatures and take them apart, like dissecting a clock to find the tick. They’d taken the Nasc princess once, the king’s sister, and held her for months before she’d been rescued.
The Federacion had operatives everywhere.
But not Kett. Surely not his Kett. She’d helped to rescue the princess from the Federacion. Or so she’d said.
She glared at him, her chest heaving, looking like she wanted to say something, to glower and shout and accuse, but in the end she just shook her head and said, “Never mind. Maybe it’s normal for you to wake up in a cave with a stranger.”
“Kett,” he began, and she waved him away. He sighed. “Are we going to breakfast?”
“I’m going,” she said. “You can do whatever the hell you like.”
She left the room and Bael followed, once more cursing his heritage. Of course he didn’t like being left in the dark about the cave, but didn’t she know there were much more dangerous things out there than some made-up symbols and a silver chain?
Kett led him down wide corridors lined with portraits of handsome, dark-haired men and charming blonde women. They all looked vaguely familiar-Tyrnan’s and Nuala’s families, he guessed.
He shook himself and tried to make conversation.
“Hey, were you born here?”
“No.”
“Where were you born?” he asked as they sidestepped a large, hairy dog of the kind usually found decorating a hearthrug.
“In the south.”
“Whereabouts?”
“Little village, middle of nowhere.”
She didn’t seem inclined to give much more information. Bael thought for a moment, then said, “Emreland’s not local, is it?”
“Nope.”
“Isn’t it across the Wall in Angeland somewhere?”
“Yep.”
“So…your dad’s Anglish?”
“Yep.”
“But you were born in Peneggan?”
“Yep.”
He was starting to enjoy this. It was like the game where you could only answer with a yes or no.
“So, your mother. She live near here?”
“No.”
“Where’s she from?”
“Peneggan.”
Ah, broke the pattern. “Where’s she now?”
“Cemetery.”
He flinched. “Sorry.”
“Ain’t your fault. I barely knew her.”
“My parents are both dead,” he said. “When I was a teenager.”
She glanced at him. “D’you miss ’em?”
Bael hesitated. That was an odd question. “I didn’t know them well,” he said. “Apparently they were brilliant.”
Kett snorted. “So says every orphan.”
“No, I mean, brilliant mentally. My dad was some sort of genius.”
“That’s nice.”
“Rich too.” He watched to see her reaction.
“Yippee.” Was that sarcasm?
“But I guess your family is too.”
“Looks like it.”
She pushed open a set of double doors and they were immediately greeted with cries of “Happy Yule!” and hugs from everyone. Kett tolerated the physical contact like he tolerated visits from the dentist.
Her stepmother and sisters were wearing dressing gowns of such elaborate construction they were more complex than the average ball gown. Kett, in her plain shirt and boots, looked totally out of place.
He liked that.
Bael beamed and told them all how delighted he was to be there.
“I ain’t got presents for any of you,” Kett muttered. “Didn’t know I was coming.”
“Must’ve been a surprise when you turned up then,” her father said, and earned a scowl for it.
“Your presence is the only present we need,” Nuala said, and looked like she actually meant it.
“I’d rather have a present,” Beyla said. And when Nuala frowned at her, added, “Well, I mean, I’d rather have Kett here
For the next few hours, Bael’s world was choked with ribbons, candles and patterned paper. There was a living pine tree in the corner of Nuala’s private sitting room, festooned with candy canes and big satin bows, while every present was draped with ribbons and flowers.
He watched Kett’s face as her sisters unwrapped kid gloves and pretty jewelry, and wondered if she’d be gracious in defeat when Nuala handed over similar gifts. But her gloves were heavy leather, and the nearest thing to jewelry in one of her parcels was a handsomely tooled sword belt.
“I am so sorry, Bael,” Nuala turned to him, “we hardly got you anything.”
He stared. “You didn’t even know I was coming.” He glanced at Kett. “Did they?”
She shook her head. “No. No one invited you,” she said, rather pointedly.
“Chance mentioned you might be bringing someone,” Nuala said apologetically.
“Is that where the clothes came from?” Kett asked.
