Part 76 (2/2)
”Rath has killed men before.”
She nodded absently. ”Probably a lot of them. But I'm pretty sure they were trying to kill him first. He's not-he's not a bad man.” Lame, lame words. Duster would have sneered. Teller didn't waver.
”I want to help.”
”You are. By being here. By talking to Lefty and Lander. By helping Finch.” She met his gaze and held it, her own unguarded. ”Don't be anything else. Not right now.”
He nodded again. ”Finch left dinner for the two of you,” he said, and rose. ”I'll get it.”
”I'm not hungry.”
”Doesn't matter.”
”Teller-”
He shook his head. ”Finch is worried. We all are. Just eat.”
And because he was right, she ate, and if the food tasted like sand in her mouth, it was good sand in its way. It reminded her of all of her promises.
Haval was waiting for them when they arrived, but although he was perched on his stool behind the vast, chaotic stretch of colorful counter, he rose. He wore a coat, a waistcoat, and carried both hat and cane. The hat was almost comical, its brim was so wide, and the cane looked thicker than his arm.
”I've decided,” he told them, as they huddled in the room for warmth, ”that some fresh air would do us all a world of good.”
Jewel stepped on Duster's foot before Duster could describe ”fresh air” in more colloquial terms. ”Ararath,” he added, speaking to their silent shadow, ”if you wish to accompany us, you may; if you have business elsewhere, I suggest that this would be a reasonable time to conduct it.”
Duster, frowning, attempted to pick meaning from his complicated words, and Jewel whispered, ”He's telling Rath to get lost.”
”All that means get lost?”
”Pretty much. It's politer.”
Duster said something about manners under her breath, and Haval wisely chose not to hear it. He made his way to the door, and lifting their snow-fringed skirts, they sighed and followed him, drawing their sweaters tightly around their arms and chests.
As he left his store, he straightened slowly, gaining inches in height. He did not seem nearly so old in the streets as he had in the magelit quarters behind which he ruled his small world; nor did he seem frail. The cold seemed to bolster him, to remind him that there was an outside world of which he was still part. Or, more likely in Jewel's opinion, he didn't want to look harmless out here.
”I do not know how much Rath has discussed with you,” he told them genially as he walked, pausing to look at the sparrows that were feather puffs in the snow, picking at invisible grains. ”He has discussed nothing with me, but I am not a man to rely on words, as you will both no doubt have observed.”
Duster gave up and nodded.
Jewel, however, listened carefully.
”Duster, please, lift your shoulders and your chin; you are not heading toward a fight.”
This produced almost the opposite effect, but Haval must have expected no less. He frowned a moment, and air left his mouth in a cloud, like a bubble of silent conversation cut free in the winter air.
”Patris Waverly is not widely known for some of his less respectable inclinations; were he, he would be ostracized. He is feared, with cause, and he is not loved by many. It is rumored that even the Astari-” He shook his head. ”Too complicated. The Kings would not weep to attend his funeral.”
Jewel nodded, aware that Haval was observing them both, although his gaze seemed to be caught by everything that Winter ice had transformed.
”It is seldom that he has the opportunity to indulge himself, but not, unfortunately, never.” His gaze did not pause or linger on Duster, but it didn't have to. ”He is cautious, but between caution and desire there are always many slips and many errors in judgment made.
”It is upon such an error in judgment that your plan depends, if I am any judge.”
Jewel nodded again.
”And it is not, in the end, the lovely young lady who must be offered as his entertainment, for I fear he would recognize her.” And he looked at Jewel. There was no insult offered in the carefully chosen words.
Jewel had carefully refused to think this through until this moment. Thinking, however, changed nothing. As if Haval was a window through which she could gaze, she watched him. ”Your hair,” he told her gently.
This time, she did not argue.
”We can iron it out. The air is dry, and it will hold some semblance of length for a small time, if you will consent to it.”
Jewel nodded.
”I believe Rath means to introduce you to the Patris, in a location of his choosing. It will be as safe a location as he can make it,” he added, ”and Ararath has always been a canny man. But if the location is not entirely safe, there is a risk, and I judge it to be a large one. For you.”
”It's mine to take.”
”Indeed, young woman, it is. Were I you, I would not, but I am no longer young, and in my youth, I might have been just as foolish, just as determined. Our youth-should we survive it-teaches us much. But you must face the fact that there is every possibility that Ararath will be unable to come to your aid in a timely fas.h.i.+on, and that what is offered the Patris, he may well take.”
Jewel closed her eyes.
And Duster snarled. The sound drew Jewel back into the now of cold streets, Common streets, tall, bare trees girding it as if it had grown up within an ancient forest.
”I won't let her be hurt,” Duster said, heat instead of cold transforming both her words and her expression.
”You want two different things,” he told Duster, without pause and without apparent concern. ”And you are willing to let her take this risk in order to achieve one of them.”
”I'll be there.”
”How?”
”I'll-” The words faded. Duster was not a planner; she reacted, and she reacted quickly, but she had to react to something.
”You begin to see,” Haval said quietly.
”Leave her alone, Haval,” Jewel said, equally quietly. ”I've already made my decision. There's no point in talking about it.”
Haval was silent for a full minute. ”It is not for your sake,” he said at last, and more heavily, ”that I make the attempt. It is not even, in the end, for Ararath, although any harm you take will scar him. It is for Duster that I speak.”
Duster startled. She hadn't given the old man her name.
”Because if you die, Jewel Markess, do you think it will have no impact on your friend?”
Jewel expected Duster to snarl; expected her to deny any friends.h.i.+p, any ties. But Duster said nothing; she stared mutely at the old man. ”For me?” she said at last, the two words harsh and grating.
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