21st of Thira, Continued

Hell was cold. Freezing cold. I couldn't stop shaking. I walked along beside Braeton on wobbly legs and tried like mad to ignore the stares and murmurs following us as we swept into a vaulted circularri.

It wasn't quite as grand as the capitol, but there were potted palm trees in groups along the walls, and pleasant music drifted from a sonularri in the corner. Floor-to-ceiling windows were open to a balcony, and everything was aglow beneath a silvery forest of chandeliers that interlaced above our heads. It looked like something from a fairy tale, but I wasn't paying much attention to anything beyond where the exits were, who was there, how many guards and servants I could spot, and my glaring lack of weaponry.

The only thing Braeton had allowed me to bring in was my infuser, and I felt naked in more ways than one.

"Archway, top of the double stairs, far end of the room," Braeton murmured, ushering me toward the lounging area.

I nodded, smiling automatically.

"That's the entrance to a hallway that leads to the second level. Reixham will come out of there in a few minutes to officially open the party."

Which would be the beginning of Phase One. I kept my smile on my lips, my eyes drawn to a beautiful dark-haired man in a blue silk jacket and pants. "Lord Evarynne is coming this way," I breathed, leaning closer to Braeton as the beautiful man in question saw us and began prowling in our direction. The family resemblance was uncanny, really. They were even wearing similar clothing – which was all part of The Plan.

"Lexan! So good to see you, Cousin," Evarynne crooned, clasping hands with Braeton before pulling him into a less formal embrace. Then Evarynne glanced at me, his brilliant, augmented jade-green gaze trailing from my neckline to my hem. "And who is this divine being?"

"Tarron, meet Miss Malastrian. Miss Malastrian, my cousin, Lord Evarynne."

I dipped into a polite curtsy.

Evarynne's smile was sharp. "Enchanting."

The music stopped suddenly, broken by a rumble of drums and the crash of a gong. All eyes turned expectantly to the arched doorway at the top of the curling double stairs, where a parade of gorgeous women bearing massive white feather fans – and wearing not much else – emerged and came strutting down the steps. The only 'clothing' any of them wore were swags of delicate golden chains that draped from gilded shackles around their throats, wrists, and ankles.   

I had to resist raising my hand to my own hair. Every one of the girls was copper-blonde and slender. Apparently Braeton hadn't been kidding when he said he was going to bait the snakes with something they liked. Although, perhaps it had only ever been one snake he was after. I swallowed, my gaze moving to the nearest wall before I could stop myself. But Arramy wasn't there. He wouldn't be, either.

There was a dramatic flair of music, then, a deep hum of strings and a triumphant exclamation of horns. A low blanket of false fog began pouring down the stairs, backlit in blue, billowing around the legs of several muscular men who came through the doorway, the poles of a throne-like sedan chair on their beefy shoulders.

In the chair sat a short, rather soft, rather homely man with floppy mouse-blond hair. He watched his guests with an air of boredom as he was carried down one side of the stairs. When the litter-bearers got to the bottom, they stopped, then knelt to place the litter on its feet. Then two of them came around to the front of the chair, where they went down on all fours.

With a theatrical sigh, Reixham stood up, stepped onto the backs of the men bowing in front of him, then hopped from there to the floor. He put his hands on his hips and glared around. "Well, what is everyone looking at?" He shouted, a big grin creasing his face. "Isn't there a party going on?"

There was a burst of laughter and a smattering of applause. The music started up again, moving into a High Court girrandelle, and the feather girls began strolling about the lounge area with trays of food and alcohol, their fans now folded and trailing behind them like tails. 

Braeton offered his arm. "Care to dance?"

I took a breath. You can do this. One more time. I tipped my head back and gave him my best Pretty Pendar smile. "Of course."

With a polite bow to his cousin, Braeton swept me out onto the broad expanse of golden ballroom floor.

For a moment, everything was deceptively peaceful. It was just me, and Braeton, and the familiar steps of a dance I knew. But I wasn't there to feel safe. I was there to make a hundred vipers see me and not Braeton. So, when Evarynne tapped on Braeton's shoulder and Braeton handed me over, I pasted my smile firmly in place and kept dancing. Phase Two had begun.

Evarynne watched his cousin leave, then leaned down to ask, quietly, "So why is this dance worth paying off my debts to Lord Ghirais? Not that I mind, particularly, I'm just curious."

"He said he has some sort of business that he didn't want to discuss. But he did not say you would be such a good dancer. You are much like him, I think," I murmured, slipping easily into Pendar's Tettian accent.

"Oh, hardly. I'm the family embarrassment. Lexan is their gleaming hope on a shining hill," Evarynne muttered. "Can't take a step wrong, that one." He spun me through the last few turns of the dance, then glanced around and guided me off the dance floor, eyeing a passing feather girl. "Say. Would you care for a drink?"

"Oh, yes, please." I managed another smile, glad Evarynne was leading me through the conversation lounge and toward the side of the ballroom that overlooked the drive. When he had bowed off to fetch refreshments, I kept going, moving to stand at one of the windows with a view of the parking yard. My presence in that window was the signal to Henmyrre and Longwater that Phase Two was in effect.

But when I took up my position, Henmyrre wasn't standing by the parking yard gate.

A chill slithered down my spine. I made a pretense of opening my fan while I gave the fountain and carriage circle a more thorough search. He wasn't lurking anywhere else, either. Maybe he could see me anyway?

Evarynne's voice brought my attention away from the window. "Here you are. Oh. By the way, Reixham was asking after you. Would you like me to perform the obligatory introductions?" 

I nearly dropped the slender glass of blue-tinted liquor Evarynne had just handed me. My gaze flew to where Reixham stood talking to Lord and Lady Renoa. I hadn't seen Henmyrre yet. I couldn't leave the window. There wasn't any way to escape, and as if the fates were laughing at me, that fleeting little glance was all it took to slam the trap all the way shut. Reixham was watching me from across the dance floor and instantly noticed my attention. My heart lurched as he turned to meet my eyes full on, a glimmer of a grin on his lips as he made his excuses and started toward me.

Cursing inside my head, I looked away and tossed back my drink, downing all of it in one go before smiling at Evarynne. "It wouldn't be any trouble?"

He pulled a wry face that was eerily similar to NaVarre's and shrugged. "Not particularly," he started to say, then frowned, his attention zeroing in on something behind me. "Who is that?"

I turned to follow his gaze, and went perfectly still, caught off guard. Henmyrre wasn't outside at all. He was only a few dozen yards away, ducking along the edge of the dance floor, quite obviously heading for me.

Reixham was almost to the lounge, approaching from the opposite direction.

I made a swift decision. "Please offer Lord Reixham my most sincere apologies," I said over my shoulder, already moving, trying to keep myself from breaking into a run as Henmyrre came around a last decorative potted palm ahead of me.

Henmyrre didn't waste any time. He made a quick, clumsy pass at a bow for the sake of looking less conspicious, then took my arm and pulled me in closer to the palm, his expression fierce. "He's loose!"

My heart dove for the ground. "What?" I hissed.

"That crafty bastard took the doors right off the horseless from the inside," he spat, glaring down at me. "This is your fault! I should have just done it when I had the chance. Should have ended it right there, and now he's killed Longwater —"

"What!?"

Henmyrre glanced wildly around. "Where's Braeton? I need to find Braeton. Now. Longwater was setting up the trigger, but now he's dead —"

Henmyrre's words were cut short by a dull thud outside. The thud was deep, rumbling through the ground, reverberating in the air. Time seemed to slow, even as all the windows on the side of the room overlooking the drive suddenly disintegrated into a million shards.

Henmyrre's eyes widened, his mouth falling open as both of us were lifted off our feet.

That look of surprise on Henmyrre's face was the last thing I saw before my head smacked off of something hard, and the world went dark.

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