Seven Dreams (6 page)

Iyamar stared at
the house for some moments before she went inside, her expression
unreadable. Serena wondered how long it had been since she had
slept in a house, and in a proper bed. It gave her some pleasure to
assign the girl her own room, a neatly-kept chamber with fresh
bedding and a basin of clear water for washing.

The rest of the
team retired to their assigned chambers with obvious relief. It was
past three in the morning, the job had been a long one, and
Serena’s detour regarding Iyamar had delayed them still further.
She could not regret it, in spite of the delay. She understood
Egg’s concerns, but her gut feeling told her that Iyamar was a
valuable find. She only hoped that Oliver would agree.

The last thing
she saw before she fell into her own bed was Teyo, wandering down
the hallway with his sleep mask in one hand and a bundle of
knitting in the other. He gave her a tiny, lopsided smile on his
way past, in which she read a mixture of amusement and resignation.
Did that mean he approved of Iyamar, or not? Teyo was so hard to
read.

Serena shut her
door on him, and went to bed.

Serena dragged
herself out of bed early the next morning, though she would have
delighted in a longer rest. Her team had been extremely busy of
late; she had been playing three different roles regularly, and
there had been little opportunity to rest. Perhaps, she thought
with faint hope, the matter of Halavere Morann would soon be
resolved and she could apply for a bit of leave.

Everyone else was
sluggish as well, apparently, for she wandered downstairs to find a
deserted ground floor. They were still sleeping, most likely,
except for Teyo. His history with the Unspeakables was a source of
eternal regret to him, but it did furnish them with one advantage:
he had retained one or two contacts within the organisation, and
once in a while they were willing to take the risk of sharing
information with him. The current job could scarcely be completed
without more details, and Teyo would have left before dawn in an
attempt to secure it. She quickly crossed her fingers, wishing him
success.

She took a cup of
tea and a bread roll through to her favourite window seat, and
discovered Iyamar huddled behind the curtain. The girl was fast
asleep, and in repose she looked so very young that Serena began,
for the first time, to doubt her judgement in hiring her. Was it
work she needed, or something else? Care, perhaps? A foster
family?

No, perhaps not.
Even in sleep, there was a mulish set to Iyamar’s pointed chin. She
wanted work, and she wouldn’t readily accept anything else, Serena
guessed. Certainly nothing that would threaten her
independence.

Still, she was
young. She proved to be almost as pale-skinned as a Darklander,
which was rare in Irbel; perhaps she had mixed heritage. Her hair
was very pale, too; not the pure, Lokant-white one sometimes saw,
but pale blonde. Her features were curiously neutral, neither
pretty nor plain. A blessing, Serena knew, if one wished to pass
for a man. Serena’s own features were too decidedly feminine to
permit such a masquerade easily.

She sat quietly,
drinking tea and savouring her breakfast, until she heard Teyo’s
soft footsteps behind her. She turned with a smile, and a finger to
her lips. His brows rose at the caution, but when he saw Iyamar
curled up in the corner of the window, he nodded and gestured
Serena into the kitchen.

‘
Did
you learn anything?’ Serena asked, keeping her voice
down.

‘
Bits
and pieces,’ Teyo rumbled in reply. ‘Most of it useless, except
maybe for one thing: there’s a rumour that Halavere’s after some
kind of key.’

‘
Oh? A
key to what?’

Teyo shrugged.
‘Nobody knows. She used Pietre Grine — that’s the “stablehand” we
saw last night — to track it down, and apparently he
succeeded.’

Serena nodded
slowly. ‘Baron Anserval’s got this key, then, whatever it is. We’d
better try to warn him.’ She heaved a great sigh as she said it:
there was little chance that the Baron would see it as anything but
unwelcome interference, so it would be an unpleasant task. She felt
an obligation to try, not least because it might make her job
easier later. Whatever this key was, Halavere couldn’t be permitted
to walk off with it.

‘
I
wanted to see Oliver today, but that won’t work,’ she sighed. ‘We
need to get a watch on Anserval’s house immediately. She won’t
delay long before she goes after this key.’

Teyo nodded,
saying nothing. He looked as tired as she felt, Serena thought,
surveying him with some concern. He was taller than she, a large
man with broad shoulders and a big, brawny build that would soon
turn to fat, if he weren’t so active. Those shoulders were a little
slumped this morning, however. His shaggy brown hair was more
disordered even than usual, and the shadows beneath his eyes were
deep and dark. At better times, Teyo bore a youthful vigour which
belied his forty-something years, but today he looked every one of
them.

All her team
needed a break, she knew, but there was little chance of that for a
while. She wanted to speak of it, but Teyo didn’t welcome that kind
of solicitude, so she merely said: ‘Have you eaten? There’s tea as
well.’

Teyo accepted
these offers with quiet gratitude, and Serena silenced one or two
of her worries by ensuring that he was, at least, decently fed.
Jisp clambered onto the table top as well and partook of a
sumptuous meal of fruit, enjoying an occasional caress from Teyo as
she did so. Serena smiled to see it, knowing that the two of them
were probably conversing about something or other within their own
minds. It made her a little bit envious, sometimes, for she had no
special or magical abilities of her own. It reassured her to know
that Teyo had that kind of companionship. He was a quiet man and
somewhat withdrawn; always friendly and obliging, but close to no
one.

She drank a
second cup of tea, sitting at the table in silence with Teyo as she
turned over the upcoming task in her mind. She could take on the
duty of warning the Baron herself, though she would not be able to
do so in the role of Lady Fenella, and it would be advantageous for
her to appear in that character. Egg and Teyo would have to take
that duty, then, and afterwards infiltrate the house in the guise
of servants, or something else. She would leave that to
them.

Fabian would
accompany Serena herself, which left Iyamar unaccounted for. It was
far too soon to take her out on a job, but what else could be done
with her? Serena dared not leave her behind, not least because she
was afraid that the girl would not be there when they returned. Her
doubts of last night had not been wholly assuaged by the
explanations and stories she’d been given. Besides, Iyamar needed
help. Serena couldn’t guess at the whole of her story, but she
sensed that there was more, and her newest recruit obviously was
not in the best shape.

Could she entrust
her to Teyo? As a fellow shapeshifter, he seemed to be the obvious
choice. But he had frightened Iyamar in his draykon shape — indeed,
that had been the whole point — and Serena had noticed that the
girl had kept as much distance as possible between herself and Teyo
last night.

Egg was a
brilliant woman, extremely talented at her job and wholly reliable,
but patience was not her strongest point. Nor was Fabian likely to
be the most understanding of companions for Iyamar; he could be
hasty, even rash, sometimes, and though he was not insensitive, he
would forget that Iyamar might need support.

That left Serena
herself. She sighed inwardly, puzzling over the question of how to
keep Iyamar with her without breaking character as Lady Fenella.
She could be dressed up as a footman, probably, for she would
easily pass as a boy. That would have to do. Wendle could keep an
eye on her while Serena was in the house with the Baron.

Teyo finished his
repast and sat back in his chair. Serena realised he was watching
her with one of his impassive expressions, totally unreadable. She
lifted a brow at him.

‘
Figured everything out?’ he enquired.

Serena nodded,
and sipped her tea. ‘I think so.’

‘
Of
course you have,’ he said, with a hint of a smile. Then, with a
tired sigh, he levered himself up from the table. ‘I’ll be ready to
leave in twenty minutes,’ he said. ‘I’ll get the others
up.’

Serena smiled her
thanks and left the table. She poured the remains of her tea away
with some regret, wishing she could linger over it, but it couldn’t
be helped. Time to rally the team and go.

Baron Anserval
was sitting at his ease in a particularly fine wing-back chair, his
attention wholly occupied by the delicate antique book he was
cradling upon a pillow on his lap. He was surrounded by antiques,
in fact; the chair in which he reclined was a velvet-upholstered
fancy, more than two hundred years old and displaying an
excessively fine claret colour. A matching chair and divan stood
nearby, standing at elegant angles to a pleasingly elderly carpet
of lively hues. The walls of his study were lined with expensive
bookcases, each shelf well-filled with agreeably faded and
crumbling tomes, and his cabinets bristled with rare and fine
ornaments. It gave him the greatest satisfaction to sit and admire
his collection, and also furnished him with a pleasing sense of
superiority towards those who had not the fortune to be so
well-provided with antiquities as himself.

He gently turned
the pages of the book upon his lap, his newest acquisition. The
brittle parchment was protected from his hands by way of the thin,
white cotton gloves he conscientiously wore; after all, if one was
to accept the stewardship of such a broad collection, one must
likewise accept the responsibility of caring for them suitably. The
Baron took all such obligations very seriously indeed. He was also
ready, at a moment’s notice, to regale any interested parties with
a detailed history of every item in his study; indeed, in his
entire collection. And everyone, he had long since concluded, felt
an interest in antiquities, for his lectures had always been
greeted with very flattering attention. It behoved the privileged
to share their rarefied knowledge with the improperly educated, and
the Baron took this obligation very seriously as well.

Not, of course,
that he had any intention of reading this book, or any other that
presently stood upon his bookshelves. Though he naturally possessed
the keenest interest in the refined and scholarly pursuit of
reading, not for the world would he subject his precious and
fragile tomes to the punishing interference of page-turning. At
present, he was cheerfully engaged in viewing some one or two of
the illustrations that graced the pages of his newest prize, before
he returned it to its proper station upon the shelf, behind its
protective glass covering.

He had not yet
completed this task when his butler arrived at the door to his
study, which was standing ajar, and knocked delicately upon it. He
looked up with a faint frown, surveying his employee over the top
of the professorial glasses he had elected to wear.

‘
A
lady and a gentleman to see you, my lord,’ said that worthy
person.

‘
But
what are their names, Barrage?’ said the Baron testily. ‘I trust I
am acquainted with these people?’

The butler gave a
slight cough. ‘I believe not, my lord. They are emissaries from the
Bureau, so I understand.’

The Baron’s frown
grew deeper. ‘Oh! The Bureau. You misled me when you termed them a
lady
and a
gentleman
. One does not expect agents of
the
Bureau
to bear any proper eminence at all. What is their
business?’

‘
They
chose not to divulge that to me, my lord,’ said the butler with an
apologetic bow. ‘The matter is, I gather, somewhat
urgent.’

The Baron gave
the weariest of sighs and carefully closed his treasured book. ‘Let
them come in,’ he instructed, and his butler discreetly
withdrew.

He had no notion
at all what the Lokant Heritage Bureau might want with him, but it
did not take him long to venture a guess. Perhaps he had
inadvertently acquired something which was of interest to the
Bureau, or possibly even of use. He could not consider selling any
piece of his collection, of course, but it would be amusing to
field — and summarily reject — a flattering offer. He waited in
pleasant anticipation of such a treat, and soon enough he heard
heavy footsteps approaching.

No refinement
at all
, he thought with pleasant satisfaction. Only the very
common walked with such a laboured tread. The two agents presented
themselves at his door an instant later, and he took a few moments
to observe them at his leisure.

The first to
enter was a female. She was of barely moderate height, with a thin,
wiry frame. Her drab brown hair was cut unappealingly short, which
he hated to see in women, and her features were unremarkable. She
was clothed in the nearest thing the Bureau had to a uniform,
namely a dark blue tunic and matching trousers, with a plain white
shirt underneath, and black boots. She bowed to him with neither
expression nor air, and stood with her hands behind her
back.