CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Missing

Pyaras walked into Father’s room, not because he wanted to, but because Father would expect it. That was what you did during Selection; everyone had to stay informed.

“Father,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

“What is it, my Pira? What’s the news?”

“No news,” Pyaras sighed.

“I can’t believe it.”

“Yeah, it’s weird, I know. Everyone is worried about it. I’m heading out to Tagaret’s. The Round of Eight is this afternoon; I’m sorry you can’t come to the announcement of the last four.”

Father gave a slight smile. “I wouldn’t have gone, even if I were well enough. I hate big events. Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Fine,” he said. Having a bad day wasn’t the same thing as being upset. He’d missed jogging this morning: when he’d reached the pole, eight minutes late, there’d been no Evvi, and no Veriga. It was all his own fault for oversleeping, but he still hated to think of Veriga waiting for him and being disappointed, again.

“I’m proud of you,” Father said.

“Oh? Uh, thank you.”

“You did the right thing, stepping back and letting your cousin compete. Adon’s still safe, is he?”

No, not at all, in any way. “Yes, he’s safe.”

“I’m glad. I’m sure he’ll do well in the question session today.”

Pyaras couldn’t stand it anymore. “So I’ll just go,” he said. “I don’t want to miss seeing Adon before he leaves.”

“Give them my best,” Father said. “I love you, Pira.”

“I love you, too.”

“Don’t be too jealous, now; you’ll be all right.”

“Sure.”

Jarel met him in the vestibule, gave him his gloves to put on, and accompanied him downstairs. His time with his cousins wouldn’t be particularly personal today; Selection events meant lots of people gathering, and lots of chaotic preparation. Imbati Serjer greeted him at the front door, and allowed him into the sitting room where Lady Selemei and Speaker Fedron were already talking with Tagaret and Della.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” Pyaras said.

“Pyaras!” Tagaret came and thumped him on the back. “Come to wish Adon luck?”

“All the luck in the world,” he agreed. Preferably luck that would get him eliminated as soon as possible. Though an Heir from another Family would cause a whole cluster of different problems.

“Pyaras, I’m glad to see you,” said Lady Selemei. “I’m glad Adon can count on you supporting him.”

“Where is Adon?” he asked.

“He’s in the back with his Dexelin, getting dressed,” said Della. She was dressed up in a new gown today. It made her look even more pregnant than she had yesterday, but she seemed a great deal better. “We’re still waiting on Arissen Melín.”

“You’re waiting on her?” Anxiety struck him in the chest. “What do you mean? She’s not here yet?”

“No.”

Pyaras shook his head. “That’s not like her.”

“Well,” said Speaker Fedron, “it’s likely she’s been fired. For a Selection bodyguard, she’s terribly presumptuous.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, though.” Not after what she’d said yesterday. Nekantor was counting on her to get Adon through this, wasn’t he? Nek had hated having to replace Veriga in the last Selection; he wouldn’t want to have to replace Melín.

That was when Adon emerged from the back of the house, with his Dexelin behind him. The Selection stress was obviously getting to him; he seemed distant and distracted, barely making eye contact with anyone. He was, however, impeccably well dressed in a suit of peridot velvet with embroidered hems and sparkling buttons.

Pyaras walked over to him and squeezed his shoulder. “Hey, Adon.”

Adon jumped a little, and looked up. “Oh hey.”

“Hang in there, today, all right? Maybe you’ll get voted out this round so we can all relax.”

“Pyaras,” said Speaker Fedron, chidingly.

Adon nodded as though he hadn’t really heard. “Where’s Melín?” he asked. “Isn’t she supposed to be here?”

The cold feeling in his chest grew worse. “You know what? I’ll go look for her,” he said. “How much time is there before you need to leave?”

The doorbell rang. Serjer admitted Arbiter Lorman, who was all in a fluster, waving his hands in shooing motions. “So, so, what are you doing? Don’t wait around here! Let’s go, let’s go. Adon, so, you’re first up in the question session. We can’t have you be late.”

“We’re having a problem of a missing Arissen,” said Selemei. She turned to her servant. “Ustin, would you and Fedron’s Chenna feel comfortable teaming with Adon’s Dexelin and Lorman’s Oidi as far as the cabinet room?”

The broad-shouldered Imbati woman bowed. “Of course, Mistress.”

That seemed agreeable to everyone, and within moments, Selemei, Fedron, and Lorman had surrounded Adon and proceeded out the door, with the four Imbati on the alert around them.

As soon as the door shut, Tagaret gave a deep sigh. “Holy Mai, please let him be eliminated from Selection today.”

“Oh, dear,” said Della, shaking her head. “Oh, dear.”

“Pyaras,” said Tagaret, “the announcement of the last four candidates is planned for the Hall of the Eminence today; will you come in with us?”

“Oh, absolutely.” He nodded. “I can’t stay with you and wait, though. I’m worried something’s happened to Melín. I’m going to see if I can find her. I’ll be right back.”

“Eyn go with you,” said Della.

Pyaras whooshed out a breath. “Yeah, thanks.”

Outside in the hallway, Adon’s party was still within sight, moving at Lady Selemei’s slow pace near the junction where the suites wing met the central section. Pyaras glanced back to make sure his Jarel was with him, then ducked down the hall in the opposite direction until he reached the side exit.

He walked out between guards of the Eminence’s Cohort into the gardens. No one was in sight. It would be hard to miss anyone crossing the gardens, unless they hid behind one of the garden shrubs. But Melín would never hide behind a shrub.

“Jarel,” he said. “Where could she be?”

“Perhaps at the Arissen section, sir?”

It was the only reasonable guess. He was tempted to jump the border and cut across the plantings, but taking the path would be just as fast if he jogged. He crunched along, Jarel more lightly echoing his steps, until he reached the pole where he’d missed Veriga this morning. A soft warble stopped him in his tracks.

It couldn’t be.

He called anyway. “Evvi?”

From between two nearby shrubs appeared a broad black snout, and then the tunnel-hound’s eyeless head. She lolloped toward him.

Oh, Heile have mercy.

Stomach churning, Pyaras crouched down to greet her. “Evvi pup . . . come here, pup.”

Evvi didn’t hesitate; she dived into his hands. He scrubbed her velvety head automatically.

But this was bad. She hadn’t been tied to the pole. She wasn’t even wearing her lead. She would have been, if Veriga were here.

Were Melín and Veriga both missing?

Panic tried to strangle him. But rather than holding his head, he focused on stroking Evvi. Think, Pyaras, think. Nekantor must be responsible. It had to have something to do with . . . the murder investigation, maybe? Or the Round of Eight today?

Something was attached to Evvi’s collar—a small cloth bag. With his fingers in a panicked rush, he had difficulty untying it. He patted his knee, so Evvi would place her head there and hold still. At last, it came free.

Inside the bag was a small, oddly shaped object that had a polymer case, and some kind of metal plug.

“Jarel?” he whispered hoarsely. “What is this?”

“It’s an ordinator storage device,” the Imbati replied. “They’re in common use in the bureaucratic offices. I believe Household Director Samirya also uses them.”

“What does it store?”

“Sir, I couldn’t tell you. You have to plug it into an ordinator that can read the information.”

He’d bet anything this was information about the murder investigation. If Veriga had come under threat, it would have made perfect sense to give the information to Evvi, because no Grobal would ever stoop to approach a tunnel-hound. Except him. It was possible Veriga had sent Evvi here with it on purpose, and meant for him to find it.

“There are ordinators in the Division offices,” Pyaras said. “Come on.”