Audrey put on a bright smile and curtsied before the dark-haired woman. "My lady?"
The woman glanced at her. "Yes?"
"Aunt Murid sends her regards."
The woman stared at her. Her gaze slid up. She saw Kaldar, and her eyes went as wide as saucers.
Recover, Audrey willed silently. Recover, because I don't know what to do next.
The woman snapped out of her shocked silence. "Ah! So she finally sent word. What are you doing out of bed? Are you feeling better?"
"Yes, my lady."
"You look feverish. Would you excuse us for a moment, Francis?"
The young man blinked, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "But, my lady, the poem isn't quite finished . . ."
"We'll finish it later. This is my traveling companion, and she has been laid up since our landing. I suspect she shouldn't have gotten out of bed."
"Perhaps I could be of assistance." The young man was grasping at straws. "My studies in the . . ."
"Thank you, Francis, but the sickness is of a feminine nature," the woman said.
"Oh."
"Excuse us." The woman grasped Audrey's hand. She had a grip like a steel vise. "Let us get some air."
The woman headed for the open doors leading to a balcony. Audrey sped up, trying to keep pace with her. They emerged onto the balcony and continued walking. The balcony protruded far out over the yard, and the woman continued to move until they had reached the ornate white railing. At the railing, she thrust her hand into her sleeve and pulled out a small metal device that looked like a bulb. Audrey had seen one before - it was a miniature version of the one Kaldar had used to read the dispatch from the Mirror. The woman sat it on the railing and squeezed. The device opened with a light click. Inside, a small glass flower bloomed, its petals opaque. The woman looked at it. Gradually, the petals turned transparent.
She leaned over to Audrey and whispered, her voice furious. "What are you doing?"
"Sneaking in," Audrey whispered back.
"Shhh," the woman said. "Not you."
The barrette in Audrey's hair buzzed softly. "My job," Kaldar's voice whispered.
"Why are the children here?"
"Long story."
"You dragged the boys into de Braose's castle. Are you insane?"
"Yes," Audrey told her. "He is."
"Such lack of faith," Kaldar murmured.
"If anything happens to the children, I'm going to kill you. If I don't kill you, William will."
"Empty threats, cousin. You wouldn't want to make the lovely woman next to you a widow, would you?"
Oh, my God. He did not just say that.
The woman's eyes got even wider. "You married him?"
"No!"
"Not yet," Kaldar murmured. "Got to go."
The buzzing died.
The woman stared at her.
"He's joking," Audrey said.
The woman nodded with a patient smile. "Kaldar's like my brother. I've known him all my life. I'm twenty-eight, and I've never heard him say that he would marry a woman. He views marriage the same way religious men view sacrilege."
"I'm not marrying him." Maybe if she grabbed the dark-haired woman and shook her, she'd get her point across. "He's insane."
"Wait until Memaw hears of this. She will have an aneurysm from the shock."
"I'm not marrying Kaldar!"
"Shhh! This dampener only works on quiet voices. How long have you known him?"
"Nine days."
"Have you slept with him?"
"No!" What kind of a question was that?
The woman slapped her hand to her face. "Oh Gods. He is going to marry you."
"Are all of your family insane?" Audrey told her. "Or just the two of you?"
The woman sighed. "My name is Cerise."
Cerise, Kaldar's cousin, Cerise? The cut-a-steel-beam-like-butter Cerise? The Cerise with the husband who was a changeling like Jack? What was his name . . .
"Call me Candra, Lady of In," Cerise said. "And here comes my husband."
The dark-haired man with the predatory stare walked through the doors. His eyes flared with the same lethal fire she had seen in Jack's irises just before he had lost his mind in the church.
Audrey took a step back.
The man closed the distance between them. His face was terrible with fury. He looked like he was about to lose it.
"I know, darling," Cerise said. "I know. I'm sure he has a reason for bringing the children into this."
"No, he doesn't," the man growled.
William! That was his name.
"He usually - "
"No. I don't care. I'll kill him, and we can write his excuse on his tombstone."
"You can't," Cerise said. "He's getting married."
The man turned to Audrey. "To you? You don't look stupid . . ."
"I'm not marrying him," she said.
"See?" William turned to Cerise. "She doesn't care."
"I care," Cerise said. "This isn't the time or the place for this. For now we're going to be civil. This is . . . What's your name?"
"Audrey."
"Nice to meet you, Audrey. For now, Audrey will be Lisetta, and she is my friend. She was sick when we disembarked. We don't know Kaldar, and we don't know the boys."
William growled.
"Your eyes are on fire." Cerise swiped the flower dampener off the rail. It snapped shut.
William pulled a small box out of his pocket and put contact lenses into his eyes. "This changes nothing. Come nightfall, I'll have his guts."
"If we live that long." Cerise smiled and put one hand on his elbow. "Please, William. For me?"
William's face softened. He took Cerise's hand and kissed her fingers. He looked at Cerise as if the entire world didn't exist. That look set off a gnawing ache inside Audrey, an ache that she realized was envy.
Cerise smiled at him and put her other hand on Audrey's forearm. "And we're on."
They headed back to the doors.
"Are you familiar with the Weird at all?" Cerise asked.
"Not enough."
"That's all right," Cerise said. "Just stay close to us. If we get in trouble, we'll kill everything."
Somehow, Audrey didn't find that reassuring.
007
THE children were natural and relaxed. They chatted with the younger men, George being polite, Jack dropping a laconic "yes" or "no" here and there with that arrogantly bored expression.