35. Unwelcome Discoveries

12th of Dema, Continued

The ride back to the Racynne House was quiet. Braeton seemed to be mulling something over, a frown marring his brow as he stared at nothing in particular. It wasn't until we reached the city and the smooth comfort of driving over modern pavement that he finally sat up straight, turned to me, and broke the stillness with: "So did you learn anything?" 

I glanced sidelong at him. He had spent most of his time with one target, sitting comfortably on a lounger, smoking a long pipe while pretty girls drew runes on his arms and legs with dye. 

For a moment I considered telling him to go ask Kallovedes, but I had danced with half the men at the party to get my share of information and keeping it to myself wouldn't accomplish anything – other than giving me a rush of vindictive power. So, with a sneer, I gave in and began ticking my list off on my fingers. 

"Reixham is higher up than you thought. According to Lord Jorren, he has been granted some sort of territory, and he's in charge of running some sort of supply chain. Kallovedes seems genuinely afraid of him. Delmyrre has never been to any of Kallovedes' training parties, but he put together the veildfaste and invited Kallovedes, which, if you ask Jorren, means Kallovedes must have done something for Delmyrre and Delmyrre owed him one. There was some question as to why Delmyrre didn't show up, since he was the host, but no one had heard anything about his body being found. Jorren is hoping to be named for a Selection – whatever that is – Lord Fardemarre was only there for the women, and everyone thinks you're so rich that it was only a matter of time before you came around to 'the way things are.'" I paused for effect, smiled large, and added, "Oh, and Kallovedes is sleeping off a jab from my infuser." 

Braeton's expression didn't change. Then he looked out the window. 

I studied him in the shifting light of the city gas lamps. He wasn't being his usual chilled-crystal Braeton. This was different. He was too distant. Too pensive. What could Pha Mun-Ghour have said that would affect him so much? 

But there wasn't any point pushing for more. He was like Arramy that way; both of them held their cards close, and a spare deck up their sleeve. He would tell me if he wanted to, and he would only tell me what he wanted me to know. 

With a sigh, I resigned myself to the silence, and looked out my own window. 

~~~

It was late when we reached the hotel. Or early. Well past midnight, either way.

Braeton stayed behind in the carriage house to discuss something with Enrys and sent Longwater up to the suite with Arramy and me. 

In the lift to our rooms, Arramy was just as quiet as Braeton had been, but where Braeton had been distracted, Arramy was focused and tense, his eyes never leaving Longwater's face. 

Longwater was just being Longwater, standing across from the captain with his hands clasped in front of him, his thick, sturdy features impassive as ever. 

When we reached our floor, the ding of the lift bell made me jump. The attendant opened the inner accordion gate, then ratcheted the red-lacquered floor doors open with a few cranks of the gear wheel. Her cheerful, "Enjoy your stay at the Racynne..." faded with her smile when Arramy practically erupted from the lift, brushing past Longwater and striding swiftly down the hallway. 

Longwater turned and followed at a more sedate pace, leaving me behind. 

I glanced at the attendant and offered a wan smile. "Thank you." 

She grinned. "Of course. Enjoy your stay at the Racynne." 

I took a deep breath, let it out, and started forward, shifting my weary legs, telling myself that I just had to reach my room. Only a few more minutes. A few more steps. Then I could sit down, peel off all the Pretty Pendar, crawl into a big, soft bed, and not wake up again for hours. 

Longwater was on the couch in the suite's sitting room when I came in, and he was still there when I closed my bedroom door. The click of the latch was beautifully final, as if I were locking Arramy, Braeton, and everything else out. Then I started stripping, shedding hairpins and flowers and the ridiculous 'peasant' clothes. I left Pendar's face in a careless pile on the dressing table and was still scrubbing costume glue off my forehead with a wet handcloth when I climbed into the middle of the massive hotel bed and fell backwards into a mountain of red satin pillows. 

Unfortunately, exhaustion didn't necessarily mean sleep would be easy. 

An hour later, I lay staring up at the velvet canopy above my bed, unable to make my eyes stay closed even though my head throbbed with fatigue. 

That was the only reason I heard the door open across the common sitting area. The sound was stealthy, and there was no 'click' of the latch falling back into place. 

I lifted my head, listening intently, and caught the whisper of a footfall at the door to the hotel hallway. That was followed by the faintest suggestion of a door handle turning. Then silence.

Longwater didn't say a thing.

Frowning, I got up and slipped out of bed, tiptoeing to my door. Nothing. Where was Longwater? Or was it Braeton who had left? It couldn't have been. He and Enrys hadn't come up yet. Ina was down the hall in the servant's quarters and had been since before we got back.

Still frowning, I opened my door. 

The wan light of early dawn revealed that Longwater was on the couch, slumped in the same place I had seen him last. A long, rattling snore split the stillness. 

"Longwater!" I called under my breath. 

He didn't move. Not even when I crept up and jiggled his shoulder. His head was tucked to his shoulder at an uncomfortable angle, and his mouth dropped open, jaw slack. He let out another snore. There was no way he was that asleep without help. I glanced around. A mug sat on the side-table next to him, half-full of dark liquid, but it was only sailor's tea gone cold. Ironically, he must have been drinking it to stay awake. 

The hair rose at the back of my neck. 

Someone had drugged the sailor's tea.

My gaze flew to Arramy's door. It was ever-so-slightly ajar. Apprehension slid into my stomach like freezing lead as I crossed the sitting room on weirdly shaky legs. I knew before I swung Arramy's door all the way open that his bed would be empty. Gone. He's gone. 

Numb, I pulled the door nearly shut, careful to leave it exactly as it had been. Then I chewed my bottom lip, chasing a thought that tickled at the edges of my mind. 

Arramy had run off like a thief, Longwater was unconscious, and Braeton and Enrys had never come up to the suite. Something was wrong. I walked across the sitting room to the front window and pulled the curtains aside just enough to look out. 

Enrys was leaning against a farmer's barrow across the street, arms folded over his chest. Braeton was nowhere to be seen, but that didn't mean he wasn't out there somewhere too, watching. For Arramy. They were waiting for Arramy to do something. After that ride back with Braeton, I just knew. What would happen if they caught Arramy sneaking around? He wasn't going to let them walk up and tap him on the shoulder. Even as good a fighter as Braeton no doubt was, he was no match for a cornered Arramy. One of them wouldn't make it out alive.

I was already in motion, hurrying across the sitting room before that thought had finished rolling through my head.