Shadowflame Part 20

Whatever threat David had intended to deliver died on his lips, and he blinked in confusion at the smith, who looked smugly satisfied at his reaction.

"Firstborn," David repeated. "That's ridiculous. They're a myth."

"Oh, are they?"

"Volundr," David told him, smiling a little, "you're not going to distract me with fairy tales. I can see that you take me for a fool, but I'm afraid you're wrong . . . and you're wrong in thinking that you have nothing to say to me. An hour from now you're going to have a lot to say."

The Prime flicked his hand, and Volundr flew back against the wall again, this time pinned a foot off the ground by the force of David's power.

David looked at the man, trying to maintain his dispa.s.sion, but beneath it, dreading the next few hours. Just talk. Don't make me do this.

He moved close enough that he was only a foot away from Volundr and held the smith's eyes. "You are giving me no choice," he said quietly. "I will protect my Queen and my territory at all cost, and I know that you know the name of the a.s.sa.s.sin. Whatever she's offered you in return for your silence . . . it won't be worth what comes next."

Volundr was still calm. "I don't know who it is," he said.

"You're lying."

"I don't know who it is," he said again, this time with a faint touch of anger. "And I'm not giving up any names. People pay me to build things and keep them secret. No bratty little upstart with a Signet is gonna get me to break two hundred years of silence. I answer to people way more important to you. You won't dare wake them up."

David stepped back, nodding. "All right, Volundr. I understand your position. But there's one piece of advice I should probably have given you before we began."

Volundr sucked in a pained breath as the first of his fingers snapped backward.

David crossed his arms, and each word was punctuated with the dull sound of breaking bone as he said, "Never . . . ever . . . dare me."

A few days of unseasonable . . . or seasonable, as it turned out . . . warmth unfolded gently over the Haven, and finally Cora felt strong enough, and brave enough, to go outside and see the world for herself.

She had heard the servants talking about this year's cold weather. Winter in Texas was apparently about as mild as that of Italy, but this year there had been ice already and there might even be snow before January at this rate. Mostly the servants seemed upset about the volume of firewood they were burning through.

They didn't talk much to Cora directly, but she was gradually picking up more of their language thanks to the computing machine in her room and its language discs. Mostly she listened, rather than speaking; she learned so much more that way . . . and not just about English.

Something had gone terribly wrong here in the last month. She knew that even before she caught s.n.a.t.c.hes of conversation here and there that affirmed the tension she could practically taste in the air. She could feel the change even before she asked one of the door guards if Prime Deven was taking visitors, only to be informed that the Prime had departed the night before. The guard's tone suggested she not make further inquiries, but she caught something in the words, some . . . faint embarra.s.sment, almost. She went over the conversation in her mind and decided that the man was not embarra.s.sed about Deven himself, but about something that had happened to cause the Prime's premature exit from the Haven. Cora didn't know what to make of it.

So she went outside.

She asked the guards if it was all right, but these days they barely seemed to notice her comings and goings, and that was fine with her; she had explored the house pretty thoroughly, but what really interested her were the grounds and gardens, and one night during the warm spell she decided now was the time. She put on her newest discovery-blue jeans-her hooded sweats.h.i.+rt, and the soft shoes the Elite had lent her, and left her room.

The closest exterior door she had found on her wanderings let her out in the back gardens near a wide trail that she guessed was for the horses. A fence ran alongside it, bordering a pasture.

She stayed with her back against the wall for a moment, getting used to the broad expanse of the night sky and the sheer openness of the world in front of her. Her heart was pounding with fear-it felt so exposed, so wrong-and she very nearly gave up and fled back to the safety of her room.

No. I have lived my life afraid.

Biting her lip, Cora pushed herself off the wall and took a few halting steps forward, then a few more. Neither the hand of G.o.d nor a lightning strike smote her where she stood. A few more steps and she reached the pasture fence, to which she clung for a moment, panting.

"Better," she murmured. "Perhaps there's hope for you yet, girl."

She heard a muted, thumping sort of noise growing nearer, along with the rustle of gra.s.s. When she lifted her head, she yelped and leapt backward.

An enormous black horse was standing on the other side of the fence, staring at her with a distinct look of amus.e.m.e.nt in its round, dark eyes.

It had been many years since Cora had seen a horse up close, but she'd been familiar with them once, and as soon as the shock of such a huge animal sneaking up on her wore off, she moved back to the fence, looking the animal over as it looked her over.

"You're lovely," she said to the horse with a quick look to discern that it was, in fact, a female. "A lovely lady."

The horse seemed to agree with Cora and dipped her head to rip up a mouthful of gra.s.s. It was strange that she should be out at night; could horses see in the dark, Cora wondered? There were lights along the trail, and enough were lit that to Cora's eyes it was nearly as bright as day, but she wondered how odd it must be for such animals to live according to a vampire's schedule.

Cora reached through the fence with one arm, gesturing for the horse to come to her; black ears flicked in response, and the horse's plate-sized hooves clomped toward the fence.

The horse inclined her head and gave Cora's hand an imperious sniff, then allowed Cora to scratch her between the eyes.

"It's a miracle," someone said wryly.

Cora jumped but managed not to cry out this time, and she twisted around to see the uniformed woman who had come up behind her and was now watching her with surprise in her almond-shaped eyes.

"Her name is Isis," Faith said. "She bites."

Cora looked back at the horse. "She is very proud."

Faith chuckled. "That's putting it mildly. Only a handful of people have ever gotten that close to her, and it's never her idea. She must like you."

Isis gave Faith a look of mild disdain and then ignored her, permitting Cora to continue petting her head and neck. "Were you looking for me?" Cora asked Faith. She had to speak slowly to keep the English organized in her head, but Faith didn't appear to have a problem understanding her.

"Yes. I know that with everything that's been going on you've gotten a bit lost in the shuffle, so I wanted to check on you and see if you need anything."

Cora frowned and decided to take the plunge. "What has happened?"

The Second came to lean against the fence. "I'm not at liberty to say," she replied, "but I can a.s.sure you that your safety is still guaranteed. You have nothing to worry about."

"I am not," Cora said, adding, "but I know everyone else here is worried about something. Is it my Mas . . . I mean, Prime Hart?"

Faith shook her head. "Right now he's the least of our problems. Let's just say there is a situation and we're working to contain it as quickly as we can."

"Does the situation have to do with Prime Deven?"

Faith's eyebrows lifted. "You're more observant than I thought."

Cora wasn't sure whether to consider that a compliment or an insult. She said nothing and merely went on stroking Isis.

"Have you given any thought to what you want to do next?" Faith asked.

"Yes," Cora said. "I have no idea."

The Second smiled. "There's no hurry, of course. I was just curious. I know after everything you've been through, the peace and quiet here must be heavenly, but I also know that eventually you're going to get bored."

Cora gave her a sad smile in return. "I have no education, no money, no family, and I barely even know how to turn on a computer. I do not think I will have many options."

Faith shrugged. "I'm sure if you want to go to school the Pair will be happy to help you. I can arrange a tutor for you if you'd like to speed up your English lessons or start learning other subjects. We can get you an American ID. Really, you just have to decide what you want."

Cora withdrew her hand from Isis and leaned back on the fence as Faith had, looking up at the black dome of the sky. "I have never been free to want anything," she said. "I'm not sure I know how."

Faith reached over and patted her on the shoulder. "You'll figure it out. There's time."

As Faith touched her, for the second time Cora felt the strange s.h.i.+vering she had with Prime Deven, and for a heartbeat's length she saw Faith in her mind's eye, standing at a window somewhere in the Haven, wiping impatiently at her eyes with one hand. Cora's eyes followed Faith's to the scene she was gazing at, but before she could see what had stirred the Second so, her vision cleared, and she heard Faith's voice: "I almost forgot to give you this."

Cora looked down at the bracelet Faith was fastening around her wrist, recognizing it as one of the devices the Elite all wore to talk to each other.

"This will let us know where you are in the Haven," Faith was saying. "We can already track you on the sensor network, but this way if there's a problem you can call for a.s.sistance. It's easy: Just speak into the com and say, 'Star-three,' and I'll answer. It doesn't have to be in English, either; the system recognizes about thirty languages."

"Thank you," Cora said.

"I have to go-I'm due in the city shortly. Are you sure there's nothing you need?"

"A purpose?"

Faith grinned. "You could always join the Elite."

Cora couldn't stop herself from laughing aloud. "I lack the grace to walk without tripping. I would slice off my own arm if given a sword."

Faith laughed, too, and said, "You know, I think I have an idea that might help you with that. I'll come back to see you tomorrow."

"Thank you," Cora said again. The Second gave her a slight bow and a brief smile and left her at the fence, where Isis was already nosing up to her for an ear scratching, giving her a commanding snort and tossing her head impatiently.

Cora sighed and carefully climbed up on the bottom rung of the fence so she could reach the horse better.

For tonight, at least, this was as close to a purpose as she was going to get.

Baby I bleed

I bleed without you

Kiss me one more time

Then twist the knife

And walk away . . .

Everyone in the studio was crying.

The rented Bosendorfer took up perhaps half the room, but its sound, and the sound of heartbreak, filled every inch of s.p.a.ce, crawling into every nook and cranny like an oak's roots through concrete.

Miranda had decided, seemingly out of nowhere, to record a bonus version of the alb.u.m's t.i.tle track. The first version was lushly produced and had a string quartet. This one was just her and the piano, stripped down and raw.

You carved your name into my heart

You said we were forever

But everything falls

Everything falls apart . . .

She didn't know if her empathic influence would translate through digital media, or if it was only something that worked in live performance, but if it did, no one who heard the song would be able to stop their tears; they would pause in whatever they were doing and find themselves reliving the worst possible breakups, betrayals, and disappointments of their histories. Chances were after hearing the track they would skip it every time they played the CD, preferring the first version of the song. She didn't especially care either way.

As they wrapped the session, she looked into the control room to see that Kat had arrived and was sitting on the stool that Lali usually occupied. Lali had been recording her part for one of the other tracks, so she was out at the car stowing her violin.

Kat looked tired. Pregnancy symptoms had hit her like a truck in the last two weeks, and she spent most of her mornings with her head in the toilet. Under the boyish half inch of hair that had grown since the attack, her face was drawn and looked a little clammy, but at least she seemed glad to be there.

Things were still a bit weird. Miranda hadn't pushed; she knew Kat was having a hard time with what had happened. So was Miranda . . . even worse than Kat, thanks to a heavy dose of guilt on her back knowing she was the reason the a.s.sa.s.sin had targeted her friend.

They were reasonably comfortable with each other again . . . as long as Drew wasn't around. Aside from the fact that he tended to stare at Miranda as if she were about to pop Kat's head like the tab on a c.o.ke and slurp her dry, Miranda found it increasingly difficult to put up with how he doted on Kat. Every other word out of his mouth was honey, and he fussed over her like a child when he wasn't gazing at Kat like she'd hung the moon. There might have been a time when Miranda thought that sort of thing was cute, or at least tolerable.

Now was not that time.