The Virtu (58 page)

I am very proud of you, my darling, and cannot help feeling it is a pity your most heroic and truly astonishing efforts will be in vain. I feel this so strongly, in fact, that I am going to give you a chance to salvage something from the wreckage.

I can almost see you frown as you struggle to understand me. I will be clear, for I know you will not share these words with anyone.

I have entered into an agreement with Vey Coruscant
—
who I believe is known in Mélusine by the charming soubriquet of Queen Blood
—
to assassinate Stephen Teverius as Brinvillier Strych assassinated his grandmother. Vey was Strych’s last, dearest, and greatest pupil, and helped him as she will help me. Trust me, my darling, we will succeed
.

I should regret it if you were to be destroyed with the rest. There is time yet
—
even with Vey’s knowledge and advice, it is a tricky matter
—
so consider your options carefully. But do not consider for too long
.

If you wish to find me, dearest, you know where to look.

He had not signed it, but he did not need to. As Mavortian had said, Malkar’s handwriting was unmistakable, and even if he had hired a scribe, I would have known the letter was his. Every word reeked of him.

I crumpled the letter viciously, but did not throw it in the fire as I had intended and passionately desired. It was proof of Malkar’s plans; it might be necessary to allow other people to read it. The thought was enough to make me feel withered and ill.

First things first, I said to myself grimly. And the first thing was to see what Malkar’s new confederate had written. I wondered if she’d read Malkar’s letter before she sent it, and knew she had. It was what I would have done.

I straightened and refolded Malkar’s letter, put it in the inner pocket of my waistcoat. Then I went back to the table and picked up the second letter. I recognized the name. I had grown up hearing the stories about Queen Blood—a fact that Malkar had no doubt guessed and was delighted by. And the Curia had periodically agreed that something had to be done about Vey Coruscant, although nothing ever was.

Her handwriting was small, slanting, with extravagant tails to the g’s and y’s. Clerk’s hand, with the idiosyncracies of someone whose living did not depend on her script:

To Lord Felix Harrowgate of the Mirador, late of Pharaohlight and Arabel, greetings.

I understand now why Lord Malkar speaks so highly of you. Your accomplishment is marvelous enough that I am sure it did not even grow in the telling as it traveled from the Mirador to the Lower City. Indeed, it must have shrunk, for one part of your great feat I have not heard mentioned at all. Perhaps the Mirador does not like it spoken of, that their prodigal child has been dabbling in necromancy. Certainly, it would be an embarrassment to them were it to become common knowledge.

I, on the other hand, am intrigued
—
indeed, quite eager to test your strength against my own. We would, of course, wish to do such a thing quietly, so I propose that you meet me at sunrise, Dai 27, 2281 AUC, in Adrian’s Park, where we may discuss the matter quite undisturbed
.

If you do not feel it necessary to meet me, I shall of course understand, and will have no qualms about pursuing my inquiries through more public channels.

Yours most respectfully,

Vey Coruscant

I put Vey’s letter down carefully, as if it might break, or bite me, and said, “Blackmail.”

“You’re going to have to give us more information if you hope for a useful response,” Mavortian said.

“I don’t.” But I could not contemplate “the matter,” as Vey had so tactfully phrased it, in silence. I said, “Malkar plans to assassinate Stephen, and Vey Coruscant has challenged me to a duel.”

I looked up as I said it, and was gratified by their reactions. Bernard looked merely irritated and anxious, but Mildmay went white as bone, and Mavortian said something in Norvenan I recognized as a curse. After a moment he asked, “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. Fight a duel, I suppose.” The Mirador had outlawed duelling in the Protectorate of Helen, but no one had ever gotten around to patching that loophole in the oaths and wards. And I knew how to use it. Malkar had been very interested in the loopholes in the Mirador’s wards, and with hindsight, I now knew why.

“You can’t!” Mildmay burst out at the same time Mavortian said, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“But I don’t see what else I can do. I can’t have her going to Stephen saying I was using necromancy in the Cordelius crypt.”

“Yes, but fighting a duel with her isn’t the answer. And, besides, isn’t it more important to deal with the assassination plans?”

“I’ve got time to worry about that. She wants me to meet her tomorrow morning.”

“So tell Lord Stephen tonight,” Mildmay said, so vehemently that we all turned to stare at him. His face reddened, and he looked down at his hands, muttering, “You don’t want to fuck with Vey Coruscant.”

“Do you seriously imagine I can’t defeat her?”

“Ain’t that,” Mildmay started, but Mavortian was already saying, “Perhaps it would help if you told me who Vey Coruscant is.”

“A blood-wizard. Very powerful. According to Malkar, Brinvillier Strych’s last pupil. Malkar’s taken up with her in hopes of repeating Strych’s assassination of Jane Teveria.”

Mavortian tilted his head, blue eyes bright. “So Maselle Coruscant is essential to Livy’s—I beg your pardon, I mean Messire Gennadion—Messire Gennadion’s plans?”

“His letter certainly carries that implication.” I felt my mouth twist, had to resist the urge to get Malkar’s letter out again and tear it into shreds. “Trying to make me jealous.”

“Interesting,” Mavortian said. “And this duel. Is
that
part of Messire Gennadion’s plans?”

“No,” I said slowly, thinking it through. “Malkar’s plan seems to be for me to betray the Mirador and join him.”

“And yet Maselle Coruscant wishes to kill you.”

“Jealous,” I said. “Malkar always sets his disciples at each other’s throats.”

“Ah,” Mavortian said, as if he was matching that up against some experience of his own. “Do you think she
can
kill you?”

“Unlikely,” I said. “Even if—”

“Thought you weren’t gonna commit heresy no more,” Mildmay said scathingly.

I flinched. Mavortian said, “
Is
it heresy for you to kill a blood-wizard in a duel?”

“Petty heresy. Duelling is petty heresy. Not gross heresy like killing another Cabaline or practicing necromancy. But it
is
heresy, and I…” I swallowed hard and said, my voice ridiculously small, “I’m not sure I could do it anyway.”

“Then don’t,” Mildmay said.

“And have Stephen find out about the gross heresy I
did
commit?”

“No, he’s right,” Mavortian said. “You shouldn’t meet her. But that doesn’t mean she can’t be dealt with.”

“Beg pardon?”

“Clearly, from what you’ve said, removing Maselle Coruscant from the playing field will greatly inconvenience Messire Gennadion.”

“But you just said—”

He continued over me: “If Maselle Coruscant wishes to meet you tomorrow morning, I believe we must move tonight. And since she expects a wizard, I suggest we send an annemer.” And he turned his brilliant gaze on Mildmay.

“No,” Mildmay said. “No fucking way.”

“But it’s perfect,” I said. With Vey Coruscant gone, Malkar would not be able to assassinate Stephen. With Vey Coruscant gone, I might not have to tell Stephen about any of this. The thought was a giddy relief. “You’ve killed a wizard before.”

“I didn’t—”

“Of course you did. You admitted it to the entire Mirador. You can hardly try to deny it now.”

“It won’t do you no good.”

“What do you mean by that?” Mavortian said.

“If she knows about the Cordelius crypt,” Mildmay said, to me, as if Mavortian didn’t even exist, “then she ain’t the only one. I get that you don’t want Lord Stephen to know, but he’s gonna find out anyway.”

“And what about Malkar’s plans?”

“Tell him that, too! He’s the Lord Protector—it’s his
job
!”

“Do you have any idea what Stephen will do to me?”

“He’s gonna find out anyway,” Mildmay said again, mulishly.

“Yes, most likely,” Mavortian said. “But there is a great difference between bringing news of a planned assassination, which one has received from a dubious and compromising source, and bringing news that one has
prevented
a planned assassination. Preferably with Messire Gennadion’s head as evidence.” His smile was feral, bloodthirsty, and I smiled back.

“Are y’all listening to yourselves?” Mildmay said. His voice had gone up, and he reached across the table to grip my forearm. “Felix, please. Can’t you see how crazy this is?”

“The combined power of the entire Curia, with the Mirador behind them, wasn’t enough to save Jane Teveria,” I said, freeing myself from his hand. He let me.

“And do you imagine you could even
get
that kind of unanimity?” Mavortian said. “Especially with the emissaries of the Coeurterre in the equation?”

I hadn’t thought of that. “Stephen won’t even listen to me,” I said. “Not until he’s actually alight and burning, and by then it will be too late.”

Mildmay must have looked at Bernard, for Bernard said, “I’m not getting in his way.” It wasn’t clear if he meant me or his brother, and it hardly mattered.

I said to Mildmay, “You’ve done it before.”

“That don’t mean I want to do it again.”

“It’s the best way. And we do have to move tonight.”

“So move to Lord Stephen,” Mildmay said between his teeth.

“And what’s Stephen going to do? You know as well as I do the Mirador won’t touch Vey Coruscant.”

He opened his mouth to argue, realized I was right, and closed it again. And was staring at me, frustrated and searching for words, when there was a knock on the door.

Mildmay answered it. “Yeah, he’s awake,” he said. “Maybe you can talk him out of it.” He stood aside and let Gideon in.

“Splendid,” Mavortian said and smiled. “Messire Thraxios’s wisdom having proved so helpful in the past.”

Gideon looked from Mildmay to Mavortian to me, his eyebrows going up. I explained the situation briefly; it was not getting more pleasant with practice. Gideon agreed with Mildmay, as Mavortian and I had both known he would, but he could not offer any reasons better than those Mildmay had already tried. And he could not argue that Malkar and Vey did not need to be stopped.

:Felix,: he said finally, :may I speak to you alone?:

“It seems entirely unnecessary,” I said. “We are agreed that we must act, and I have chosen a course of action.”

“I won’t do it.”

I stared at Mildmay. He flinched and looked down, but said, “I told you the next time you wanted me to kill somebody, you’d better pay me for it. And I’m telling you now, you can’t pay me enough. Can’t nobody pay me enough.”

“We need her dead,” I said, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice, trying to make him understand.

“You
need
to talk to Lord Stephen.”

“No,” I said, remembering years of hatred, of bitter quarrels, the two of us fighting over Shannon like two coyotes over a bone. “Mildmay, please. I need you to do this for me.”

“No.” Flat, hard, like a slap across the face.

“No?”

“I won’t do it.”

“But that’s where you’re wrong,” I said. “You will do it.”

His head came up. “You wouldn’t.”

“I most certainly would.”

He set his jaw. “Then you’ll have to.”

He had called my bluff, but I wasn’t bluffing.

“Can you find Vey Coruscant?” I said.

“Felix, can’t you see what—”

“
Can you find her
? And don’t lie.” The obligation d‘âme could be a weapon, and I was furious enough to use it.

His face had gone white. “Yeah.”

“Do you know how to kill a blood-wizard?”

And with the obligation d‘âme on him, he said, “Yeah.”

“Then you will do as I tell you. You will find and kill Vey Coruscant tonight.”

He smiled at me. I had never seen him try to smile before, and the twisted mask it made of his face would have been ghastly enough without the venom behind it. “You’re gonna have to give me permission to go to the Lower City first.”

I had forgotten I had forbidden it to him. “Yes,” I snarled. “You have permission. Just go. All of you! Out!”

They left, even Gideon having the sense not to try to linger. My fury drained away, and I felt clear, resolved. Vey Coruscant would die tonight; Malkar would be infuriated, a wounded lion, easier to track and kill. And had a soirée to prepare for.

He’d told me to go, and I had to go.

He’d told me to kill Vey Coruscant, and I had to kill Vey Coruscant.

But I didn’t have to do it right away.

Okay, I know it was stupid and childish and not even worth it, and I know I was the one wanted the binding-by-forms in the first place. So it’s my own fault. But I’d trusted him. That was the really stupid thing. I’d trusted him not to pull this sort of shit on me, and now I couldn’t even figure out why. Why I’d thought he wouldn’t walk all over me the second I was in the way of something he wanted.

I went to Mehitabel because I wouldn’t have to explain it to her. She knew about the obligation d‘âme. Fuck, she knew about Felix. She knew what he was and what I was. And the worst I had to worry about was her saying
I
told you so
.

I didn’t even stop to think she might not be there, and I don’t know what I would’ve done if she hadn’t been. But she was. Her door was open, with candlelight like a beacon, and when I looked in, I saw she’d got four or five candelabra crammed in around her vanity, to give her really good light to look at herself by.

She was dressing for the soirée, and I wasn’t even surprised she’d gotten herself an invitation. She was the sort of lady who mostly did get what she wanted.