Hansa nodded. “Ruby has a key.”
“Ruby . . . your fiancée?”
Umber’s expression of concern pierced Hansa’s mental fog a moment too late. He heard Ruby saying, “Hansa? Are you here? I need to—”
She broke off as she stepped into the sitting room and saw them.
“Hansa? You should probably step back,” Umber suggested quietly.
Ruby moved further into the room, and her eyes went to the two mugs they had used for wine, then Umber’s shirt crumpled on the floor, and then back to Hansa and Umber.
“Back up,” Umber said again.
Hansa took a step backward, and bumped into the opposite side of the doorway.
“Well. This explains a lot,” Ruby said.
“This really isn’t what it looks like,” Hansa managed to say. It was perhaps the stupidest defense he could have come up with, but it was so hard to think.
“You know? It . . . just . . . I don’t . . .” Ruby shook her head. “Never mind.” She turned away.
“Ruby, wait!” He managed to step away from Umber and put a hand on Ruby’s arm to try to slow her down. “Please, will you listen to my explanation?” He would probably tell her the truth if she was willing to hear it, but if she walked away again without even considering there might be an explanation . . .
She shook off his hand and pulled off her ring. “I think you should just keep this. It’s clear neither one of us is ready to marry.”
When he refused to take the ring from her, she handed it to Umber instead.
“I won’t say anything to the Quinacridone,” she said as she moved away.
She closed the door quietly behind herself.
Umber sighed. Hansa snapped, “Could you have helped less?” Surely the spawn could have said something useful while Hansa was trying to find his tongue!
“If you recall, you forbid me from even speaking to her,” Umber reminded him. “I can’t arbitrarily violate the terms you set on the second boon just because it’s convenient. Besides, there are other ways to fix this.”
As soon as Umber made the offer, Hansa’s irritation snuffed out. He still felt dazed, but there was one thing he felt sure about. “No.”
“I agreed to help clean up any problems you got into on account of helping me rescue Pearl,” Umber reminded him. “This falls in that category.”
“No,” Hansa said again. “This . . .” It hurt to admit it, but he couldn’t avoid the truth any more. “This isn’t really a new problem.”
She hadn’t been willing to listen to him last time either. Yes, Umber would be able to clean up this mess, manipulate Ruby once again . . . but what did it mean, if his relationship needed that?
“You’re sure?” Umber asked.
“Yeah.” He took the ring from Umber, and then stumbled into the bedroom. “I’m going to sleep. Then maybe I’ll try to talk to her . . . explain . . . accept whatever comes of it . . .” He collapsed onto the bed. “Sleep first. Thanks,” he added. “But I need to deal with this myself.”
Deal with the mess he had made of his own life.
“As you wish,” Umber said. “Sleep well, Quin. Good luck.”
Hansa was already asleep, the star ruby ring curled in his palm.
CHAPTER 19
Xaz had been exhausted enough to drift into a deep and dreamless sleep by the fire. The rest would have been more satisfying if she hadn’t woken once again snuggled against a furry blue body. Her cheek lay against his chest, and his tail was hooked securely around her waist.
They had established with their “pet the Abyssi” conversation that she did like being near him, and his warmth was probably the only reason she had been able to rest as well as she had, but she knew just enough about his kind to know snuggling wasn’t all he was likely to be interested in.
The instant she tried to ease out of his arms, his tail and arm tightened around her and his eyes flew open. She froze, afraid to even breathe with his claws noticeably pricking the soft skin of her side.
His tail twitched, fur tickling her spine at her lower back, just in that spot that always made her jump. Enclosed within Alizarin’s arms the way she was, she couldn’t go far, but ended up sneezing as fur tickled her nose. His claws probably would have shredded her skin if he hadn’t retracted them just in time.
His tail moved again, eliciting the same reaction.
“Stop that,” she said.
“You say that a lot,” he replied.
“Because dealing with you is a lot like dealing with a three-year-old child,” she snapped.
She started to pull back, but though his grip loosened a little, he didn’t let her go. Instead, he asked, “Really? Just like that?” He stretched to emphasize his point, making her blush. She remembered the way she had stared at Cinnabar after she had been injured, and only now realized that embarrassing fixation had been a result of the Abyssal power seeping into her. Love was of the Numen, but lust came from the Abyss.
“No,” she said, meaning two things: No, he wasn’t like a child, and no, she didn’t want to continue this line of conversation.
“No, what?” he purred.
Her instinct was to be subtle, to use euphemisms or avoid the conversation entirely, but she had to keep in mind what she was dealing with. She gathered her nerve and said bluntly, “I will never have sex with you. Is that clear?”
The words didn’t seem to surprise or insult him. He asked almost innocently, “Why not?”
“Why . . .” She sputtered. “Because I know what you are. And you know what I am. I’m a Numenmancer. I’m not going to have sex with a creature of the Abyss. If you were anywhere near capable of rational thought, you would have figured that out by now. Now, please let me up.”
He didn’t reply at all to the last words. Instead, he twitched his tail—she jumped—and said with a huff, “I’m perfectly capable of rational thought. Far better than you.”
“You haven’t demonstrated it,” she grumbled.
Apparently he took the words as a challenge. “Point one.” Xaz did her best to relax, since he obviously wasn’t going to let her up until he was bored with this conversation, as he had bored of the last one. Hopefully, trying to apply logic, a trait traditionally associated with the divine realm, would bore him very quickly. “You like to touch me. You like to be near me. You like the way I feel. You like the way I look. Point two: Your magic is also attracted to me because we have a bond, and mine is attracted to you. You are my tie to this plane. I am your tie to the power of the Abyss. Point three: You need as much power as you can get, especially now that the Numini have disowned you.”
“They haven’t—”
He hushed her with a finger to her lips.
“Point four: Sex is fun. That’s just a generally accepted fact. It would make the Abyssi happy, and it would make you happy.
“Final point: The four coins of the Abyss are blood, pain, fire, and flesh. Sex raises power. You don’t like blood, pain, or fire, and you do like the look and feel of the Abyssi, and you do need power, and you would enjoy this form of raising power. Taking all these points into your oh-so-logical Numenmancer brain, tell me how you can possibly come to a different conclusion.”
“You’re a demon!” she shouted. “You have fur. And a tail. Oh, and you eat people!”
“You eat ducks,” he said, as if that were a logical argument.
“Yes, I eat duck.” Was she really having this argument? “That’s because I’m not a duck. Also, I wouldn’t have sex with a duck. Your argument sounds logical on the surface, but—”
“Until you apply human irrationality and Numini interference,” he interrupted, tone haughty. “The divine realm is the only one responsible when you say no to something you obviously both want and need.”
“And the Abyssal realm is the one responsible wh
en fifty-year-old men have affairs with sixteen-year-old girls. Let me up. This argument is over.”
Just when she began to fear he might refuse to accept “no,” his arms loosened and he released her. “Can I have a kitten?”
“No—what?” Scrambling to her feet, it took her a moment to realize he had changed the subject. At least, she hoped he had changed the subject.
“I want a pet,” he said.
“Why?” she asked, warily.
“To play with,” he replied, brightening the instant her answer wasn’t just, “No.” “And I’m hungry.”
“I’m not getting you a kitten to eat.”
He deflated again. “Puppy?”
“You are a foul creature,” she mumbled.
“I saved your life,” he reminded her. “And I haven’t eaten in days.”
That made her stop. She had thought of the Abyssi she had summoned as a fiend and an annoyance, but the truth was, she had summoned him. If she had called one of the Numini into this plane, she would have fed it, but Numini couldn’t eat flesh. It hadn’t even occurred to her until then that one of the Abyssi might not be able to eat anything else.
So far, Alizarin had done exactly what she had asked of him. He had protected her and brought her somewhere safe so she could rest and recover her strength. He had helped her get warm clothing, and sustenance. He had brought her to the temple, and when the Quin guard had shown up, Alizarin had followed him in order to assess the threat he might pose. In return, Xaz had refused almost every request he had made, not just for entertainment but for food.
She was a Numenmancer. She didn’t know how to treat a denizen of the Abyss. What she did know was that, even if she didn’t feel guilty for abusing a creature that thus far had treated her very well—which she did—it was not a good idea to make a demon she had no magical control over unhappy.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I never expected to spend so much time with one of your kind. I know the Numini are very particular with what they can and cannot eat. Can you tell me what works for you—beyond kittens, I mean?”
“Numini are difficult,” Alizarin agreed. “Milk, honey, clear water, new fruit.” He listed with a swish of his tail some of the Numini’s simplest food choices when on the human plane. “Abyssi are easy. Dirt isn’t food. What comes from dirt isn’t food. Everything hot is food. Once it’s cold it’s dirt again.”
“Does ‘hot’ include things that are warmed by fire?” she asked.
Alizarin frowned. “Fire is good, but it doesn’t turn dirt into food.”
“So hot means alive, or just-dead. Nothing you could buy at a butcher’s or order at a restaurant.”
He nodded. His expression looked pleased, but his tail was twitching in a way she had come to associate with his impatience.
“Without eating any people, and doing your best not to eat anyone’s beloved new pet, would you be able to find yourself enough to eat?”
He nodded again, the swish of his tail now more lively.
“Okay then. Why don’t you go . . . do that.” And she would try not to think too much about it. “I’m going to go back to our room and try to get a little sleep. I’ll meet you later.”
“Hunt well,” he bid her, before bounding off into the near-dawn without waiting for her reply.
“You, too,” she sighed.
Once he was gone, the chill of the damp sea air and winter wind settled into her bones. She built up the fire, shivering all the while and wishing fiercely that she had a way to make the flame brighter. Most of her magic responded to will and words, but her invocations did nothing here. It occurred to her that a real Abyssumancer might use blood, but her nerve failed her despite the cold.
It wasn’t just Alizarin who made the idea of turning into an Abyssumancer terrifying. Though she had personal experience to know the Quins’ thoughts about most mancers were more scary stories and exaggeration than truth, she suspected much of what they said about Abyssumancers was true. The Abyss was a realm of impulse and need. Dark hungers drove its denizens and infected the mancers bound to them.
That all meant she couldn’t trust an Abyssumancer to help her break her bond with Alizarin. Then who? Another Numenmancer couldn’t help; they wouldn’t be able to see the Abyssal magic even if their Numini would let them try. Xaz needed someone with more diverse talents. Outside myths, where impossibly-powerful mancers could manipulate all four realms of existence—the Abyss, the Numen, life and death—she knew of only one creature who might have the skills she needed.
The spawn.
Spawn didn’t rely on the Numini’s or Abyssi’s approval in order to work magic. Though they were most closely tied to the realm from which they had been born, they weren’t blind to the opposite realm the way a mortal mancer was. Finally, since they were born with their power instead of having it unnaturally thrust upon them like a mancer, they learned to use it instinctively. They were supposed to be capable of incredible feats.
Xaz had never met one—or hoped to do so—because they usually utilized those incredible abilities to hide from her kind. Spawn seeped Other energy, which meant an unscrupulous mancer who could catch one could use it as an unending fount of power. She had heard of one, though, from Alizarin—he said a spawn had helped Hansa escape Quin clutches a free man. If the spawn had really granted Hansa a second boon, he would have to keep him in sight no matter what Hansa was now. If Hansa was in danger—say if a mancer with a grudge approached him—the spawn would come running.
Now that she’d had time to consider his change in status, Xaz had a word or two she wanted to exchange with the hero of Mars anyway.
CHAPTER 20
Cadmia wiped snow from her eyes, then checked her notes again. Other Sisters and Brothers of Napthol had gone by horseback to try to make the next-of-kin calls in the countryside for the deceased soldiers, but she had agreed to do the local ones. The house listed as the home address of Soldier Rosso’s sister was one she remembered from her childhood as a flophouse frequented by the poorer members of the Order of A’hknet.
White flurries had started to fall a little after dawn and grown steadily heavier since, and the snow had caused an instant change in the temperament of the docks. Children bundled up in heavy winter cloaks passed through the crowd, running back and forth to deliver mugs of hot drinks and still-warm pastries from the taverns to anyone with a penny to spare. The wharf market had mostly closed down, as the women who usually sat out with their nets, ropes, and weaving moved inside so they could work without their fingers going numb. Fishermen shook their heads, packing new snow around the morning’s catch even though they knew few people would come shop.
“Looks like an early winter,” observed a man loitering in front of the house. She chose to ignore the bag he carried, which she had seen him hurriedly slip something into the moment he saw her violet robes.
“This might just be an early freeze,” she said practically, letting him know she intended to keep the conversation casual and not harass him about whatever contraband he had just hidden. “I’m looking for Fawn Rosso. Is she around?”
The man shook his head. “Not a freeze, real winter. This snow will be here until spring. I’ll bet you a week’s earning.”
“I never bet with a man who sounds that sure,” Cadmia said. In fact, she never bet; the Napthol Order discouraged it. “Fawn isn’t in any trouble. Her brother was one of the victims of—”
“Shame,” the man interrupted, continuing to ignore her request. It was hard to tell if he was stalling for time, probably while someone inside cleared away evidence of illegal activity, or just giving her a hard time because she was from the Napthol Order. “I was hoping I could use that extra pay to take my daughter somewhere special.”
“Sorry to disappoint her. I’m going inside.”
He waited until her hand touc
hed the doorknob to ask, “Aren’t you Scarlet’s girl?”
“I’m—”
“Sister!” She spun toward the frantic voice to find a young Tamari girl in sailor’s garb, probably a cabin girl, slipping and sliding across the street toward her. “Sister, can you come?”
The man by the door tensed. No matter how much he wanted to harass Cadmia, he was clearly torn on whether he wanted to warn her about getting onto a Tamari ship.
“Captain saw your—” She gestured to her clothes breathlessly. “Told me to get you. It’s an emergency.”
Cadmia reminded herself that she wasn’t a child in the Order of A’hknet anymore. Even a would-be slaver had to know that trying to kidnap a Sister of the Napthol would be more trouble than it was worth.
“Where’s your ship?”
The cabin girl turned and dashed to lead the way. Cadmia followed as quickly as she could without falling, barely breaking her stride when she hit a slick patch of ice on the boarding ramp and had to grab the rail to keep from falling into the icy waters.
“She said she wanted passage wherever we were going,” the captain said quickly, guiding Cadmia toward the bow of the ship. “I told her we don’t carry passengers. That’s when she climbed up. My first mate’s been trying to talk her into coming back down, but then I saw you—that’s what you people do, right?”
By the time Cadmia reached the bow of the boat, the first mate had just grabbed the woman’s arm to pull her back away from the rail and stand her safely on the deck, but it didn’t look like the crisis was over. The woman shoved the mate away, and though she didn’t climb the rail again, she pressed her back against it.
Cadmia bit back a curse as she recognized Ruby’s tear-streaked face and remembered their last conversation. She must have confronted Hansa. What had he said to her?
“Ruby, Ruby, can you hear me?” Cadmia asked, trying to get the woman to look at her.
Ruby nodded, slowly, though her eyes never quite came into focus. Her gloveless hands continued to grip the railing, her slender fingers nearly blue from the cold.