Authors: Ilona Andrews
Bayou Moon (59 page)
WILLIAM sat alone in the silence of Declan’s library. It had been twenty-four hours since he made the call to Erwin through Declan’s scryer unit. He’d outlined the details of the deal. Erwin said nothing. He simply bowed and severed the connection.
Declan insisted on both him and the kid staying in the manor, reasoning that if the Mirror didn’t like the deal, they would be more reluctant to rain hellfire and meteorites upon the house of the Marshal. He even deployed his most effective weapon, in case things went really sour—two hours after the scrying took place, the carriage of the Duchess of the Southern Provinces pulled up to the front gates. William had met the Duchess before. He would rather go up barehanded against a rabid bear.
The ache inside his chest gnawed on him. It started when he woke up and found out Cerise had left him. Over the next few days it grew stronger and stronger. She had left him. The rational part of him reassured him that she had done it to save him. But the rational part of him grew weaker and weaker. She had left him. Like so many people before. Even if everything went his way, even if he managed to pull it off, she could still walk away from him. And there wouldn’t be a damn thing he could do about it.
He got up and stepped onto the balcony. The sun was slowly setting. They would serve dinner soon—he could smell it from the kitchen.
Voices came from below. William leaned over and looked down. Three kids, George’s blond head, Jack’s auburn mane, and Gaston’s closely cropped hair. He’d barely seen the kids since he arrived. By the time he and Declan had hammered out and delivered the terms of the deal, he was dead on his feet and he passed out for about twelve hours.
“So what are you?” Jack asked, aggression vibrating in his voice.
This ought to be interesting.
“Are you like William’s kid or something?” Jack asked.
“Leave it alone,” George said, his voice calm.
Gaston leaned back a bit. “Who’s asking?”
This wouldn’t go well
“What do you mean, who’s asking? I’m asking. Are you that stupid? What are you, some kind of inbred hick?”
“Here we go,” George muttered.
Gaston shrugged. “I tell you what, run along. I have no time for spoiled rich babies.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Jack lunged forward. He was fast, but not faster than George, who stepped out of the way half a second before Jack struck. Gaston threw his hand up, and Jack ran face-first into his fist.
That had to hurt. William winced. Gaston had fists like hammers. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with them yet, but Jack wasn’t hard to stop. He all but threw himself.
Jack spun from the impact. A low feline growl tore from his mouth.
Okay, that was about enough of that. William hopped over the balcony and landed between them. The jump almost took him off his legs. He was still too weak, but the kids didn’t know it.
William looked the boys over. In two years George had grown taller and filled out. He’d never be bulky, but he was no longer thin and sickly. His pale hair was cut in the same manner as Declan’s when Declan kept it short. His clothes were meticulously clean.
Jack wore a ripped-up shirt. His nose was bleeding. His eyes shone every time he turned his head. The kid was strung up too high.
“What the hell are you doing?” William asked.
Jack wiped the blood from his nose. “Nothing.”
“Why the hell would you run at him? He outweighs you by sixty pounds.”
Jack looked away.
“He’s also taller than you by eight inches. First order of business—make him shorter.”
William dropped down and swiped with his leg, knocking Jack’s feet out from under him. The kid was fast, but he wasn’t paying attention. His legs went one way, his head went the other. He fell into the grass and bounced back up, hissing like a pissed-off cat.
“Your turn,” William said. “Go for it.”
Jack lunged at Gaston’s legs. Gaston tensed and jumped, catching the lower branch of an oak.
Jack rolled up. “What the hell?”
“Did you expect him to stand still for you?”
Gaston grinned.
“Go on,” William said. “Try to get to higher ground.”
Jack scrambled up the tree, trying to get a drop on the older kid. They squared off in the branches, kicking and talking shit.
William and George watched them.
“How have you been, George?”
“Good, thank you. I’m really glad you are back,” George said. “Will you stay?”
“I don’t know.”
George sighed and for a moment he looked just like the weak, pale kid William had met two years ago. “I wish you would stay,” the boy said. “It would be better for everyone. Especially Jack.”
THE dining room was huge, William reflected. His whole house would fit into it. It was also mostly empty. The Duchess had pulled Rose away to her rooms for some sort of female reason, and it was only Declan, him, and the kids sitting at the enormous table.
George sliced his food with surgical precision, as if he’d spent the entire two years in the Weird taking etiquette lessons. He was meticulously clean. Both Gaston and Jack were filthy, smeared with dirt and covered with scratches. Jack had stuffed some wadded paper up his nose—Gaston had tapped him again—while his ward sported a shiner where Jack managed to kick him.
“What happened?” Declan asked.
Jack bared his teeth at him. “We fell.”
“Together?” Declan said.
Gaston looked at his plate.
“Tell him,” William said.
“He made a comment about hicks. Then I made a comment about spoiled babies. Then he ran into my fist and we had words.”
Declan looked at Jack. “Why the hell would you run at him? Should’ve gone for the legs.”
Jack opened his mouth.
Nancy Virai walked through the door.
Declan choked on his steak.
Erwin followed Nancy, wearing the familiar apologetic smile.
William started to get up.
“Don’t rise on my account.”
Declan rose anyway and bowed. “Lady V. What a pleasure. Please sit down.”
Erwin stepped out from behind Nancy and held out a chair. She sat, and he positioned himself behind her chair.
Nancy’s sharp eyes fastened on William. “If you are wrong, the assault of Kasis will cause a diplomatic mess.”
“I’m not wrong,” William said.
“Ten years. That’s my price for this foolishness.”
William blinked. “Ten years?”
Nancy rested one long leg over the other. “If I do this for you, the Mirror will have the use of your services for ten years. And of course, you will turn the journal over to us.”
“Don’t do it,” Declan cut in.
Nancy turned to him. Her raptor eyes stared at him for a second. “The Mirror appreciates Earl Camarine’s zeal in offering advice to his friend. However, from where I am sitting, it seems that Lord Sandine is, in fact, wearing his big-boy pants, as they say in the Broken. He’s capable of making that decision on his own. Yes or no, William?”
“Gustave lives and I get to take the Mars out of the Mire. They will receive Adrianglian citizenship.”
Nancy tilted her head. “Does the girl mean that much to you?”
He bared his teeth at her. “Take it or leave it, Nancy.”
“No,” Declan repeated.
Nancy smiled. George drew back. Jack hissed.
“You have your deal. Earl Camarine, the wards of the House of Camarine, and the ward of the House of Sandine, will bear witnesses to this agreement on their honor.”
Declan dragged his hand across his face.
“I understand the Duchess is in residence,” Nancy said.
“Yes,” Declan nodded. “She would be sorely disappointed if you left without speaking to her.”
Nancy smiled again. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
WILLIAM left for Kasis the next morning, Gaston with him. Declan decided to come at the last minute. It felt off, William reflected. Almost as if they were back in the Legion.
Before they left, Jack came by his room. He looked younger somehow, timid and dejected. “Are you coming back?”
William nodded. “Eventually.”
“Okay, then.” Jack opened his mouth to say something and closed it.
“How’s it going?” William asked.
Jack looked at his feet. “I don’t want to go to Hawk’s.”
Fury flashed through William. “Are they talking about sending you there?”
Jack shook his head. “No. Just . . . I can’t do anything right. It’s always Jack, Jack, Jack. Jack ruined that and Jack broke this. I’m trying, but it’s not working.”
“You won’t have to go to Hawk’s,” William said. “If it comes to that, I’ll take you with me.”
Jack froze. “Promise.”
“I promise.”
“Don’t take too long to come back.”
“I won’t.” William reached over to the table, to a basket of snacks someone left in his room, plucked out a square of chocolate wrapped in foil, and handed it to Jack.
“A smart kid once told me it helps,” he said. “Wait for me and don’t do anything stupid.”
FIVE days later William stood on the balcony of Kasis Castle and looked over the vast field of cypresses dripping silvery moss. Just two miles south, the boundary offered passage to the Mire.
The attack on Kasis had taken less than an hour. Four of the Hand’s agents were killed in the Keep, and Erwin’s people found enough damaging papers to keep them happy for months. Nobody in their right mind could claim that de Kasis was neutral.
Antoine de Kasis died resisting apprehension. He didn’t resist very much, William reflected. He’d been pissed off and hurting, and de Kasis died under his knife before offering any real resistance.
Two hours later William traded the deed to Kasis for the copy of the journal. The journal was missing a couple of crucial pages, but his memory wasn’t
that
perfect and most of the research was there and Nancy was pleased. If she suspected he held anything back, she didn’t let it show.
that
perfect and most of the research was there and Nancy was pleased. If she suspected he held anything back, she didn’t let it show.
While William exchanged the journal for the deed, Erwin briefed Gustave and escorted him back home, with a detachment of the Mirror’s agents to keep the Mars safe during their evacuation. It was better this way, William reflected. He wasn’t sure what the man would think of him.
Three days had passed now with no word from Cerise. She was only a day away in the Mire. He’d done everything he could. She couldn’t be with him because of the threat to her family. He had taken care of it. William grimaced. He’d thought about going back to the Rathole, but decided against it. He knew the way she thought. If he showed up, after saving her father and her family, she would have to be with him whether she liked it or not. So he sat here, alone, and waited. Waited for her to decide if she wanted him or if she didn’t.
SHE came to him in his dreams. Her face was smudged, but he knew it was her, because he could smell her scent and hear her voice, soothing, calling his name. When he awoke, the wild inside him snarled and howled, abandoned, hurting, and so alone he wondered if he would go mad. So every morning he came to the damn balcony and stared at the Mire. It wasn’t up to him anymore. All he could do was wait.
CERISE raised her face from her arms. Outside night had fallen on the Mire. Familiar quick steps ran up the stairs leading to her hideout.
“Can I come in?” her father asked from the stairway.
She nodded.
He came and sat in a chair across from her. He was thinner than she remembered. Older. He’d been home for almost two weeks now, and she still woke up convinced that he was missing.
“The packing is almost done,” he said. “We’re leaving the Mire the day after tomorrow.”
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