Part 20 (1/2)
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.”