Ward Against Death Part 14

She blinked again and squinted. Still nothing.

Something shimmered at the edge of her vision and she spun around. There, dancing about the room, little specks of red light.

The spell had failed.

Her spells never failed. She didn't know what that boy had done, but Celia's essence had changed from when she was alive. It was improbable, but not unheard of. Likely a result of the necromancer's lack of ability. Nothing she couldn't handle.

She ran a hand over her earrings and wished her pets were with her, but with all those Seers on the Grewdian Council residing in town, her vesperitti would draw too much attention. And if she'd learned one thing from her master, attention didn't help an Innecroestri. Besides, there were other ways, more interesting ways, to find the girl. And to do that, someone had to die. She grinned at the thought.

Celia tried not to fidget as Ward checked her bandages with delicate fingers. She'd barely noticed him picking out the crystal and that surprised her. He was so awkward and clumsy with the rest of his appendages, she'd a.s.sumed his lack of dexterity included his hands. But even now, he approached her as if he'd been doing things like this all his life. A few gentle pulls, a press, and three clicks of his tongue, as if he was checking off items from a list.

"So, doctor, what's the prognosis? Will the patient live?"

He gave her a sour look, and she remembered she was dead. A heaviness filled her and she struggled to shoved it away. There would be time to mourn later.

"Twist a little and tell me how it feels."

Celia obliged. All her muscles ached, as if she had exercised and gone to bed without stretching, which she supposed she had. "A little stiff."

"Sore?"

"Not really. I'm sure when I start moving it will become more noticeable."

"Yes," he said, but didn't sound sure. He reached for the bandage around her waist, and she brushed his hands away before he could continue fussing. His concern was... She pondered her choice of words. It was satisfying. Getting cut up had brought out his natural empathy, as well as that strange, masculine desire to protect, taking him back into the realm of possible seduction. She couldn't have asked for a better situation. It erased all of her negative behavior, cleaned the slate. And to top it all off, his concern for her felt real. Things were finally coming together. Now all she had to do was find out what he knew and solve her murder.

"If I meet with my physician's approval?" She raised an eyebrow to elicit a response, and he nodded. "Then I propose we continue with our investigation."

"And how do you propose that? You have no proof of an a.s.signment, and everyone in the entire city-no, the entire Union of Princ.i.p.alities-is a suspect."

"Not everyone."

It was Ward's turn to raise his eyebrows.

She sighed. "I want to see if Solartti has found anything."

A line formed between Ward's brows. "If you recall," he said with a calm that didn't match his expression, "he tried to kill us."

"That was just part of the game." She reached for the beige dress draped over the empty basin. She'd acquired it for the key heist, but now it was all she had. She would have to steal something more appropriate when Ward wasn't watching. Solartti would laugh his way to the Guild Hall when he saw her in a dress.

"He said he'd ask around." She shrugged out of her shirt and he shuffled his feet. From over her shoulder, she saw that Ward had turned around. He was so funny. He was obviously a trained physician from the way he removed that crystal, yet the sight of a little flesh made him blush. Oh, how she would enjoy playing his seduction out.

"How do you know he's asked around?"

"I just do." She'd never known Solartti to resist a puzzle.

"And I suppose you're also related to the Seer of Brawenal or, better yet, the prince's own Seer."

"Twice removed from the previous Seer of Dulthyne." Oh, how she loved to frustrate him. He'd get this look, stutter for a bit, and turn bright red.

This time he just sighed, long and loud. "Do you think he'll have discovered something we haven't?"

She eased out of the ruins of her pants and pulled the dress over her head. Perhaps she did feel a little sore.

"We won't know if we don't ask." She reached for the laces at her back. No, it would be better if Ward tied them. "Tie me in."

"Excuse me?"

"Tie me in."

"Didn't you do this by yourself last time?"

"Yes, but I'm injured." She smiled and batted her eyelashes. "And your fingers are much more deft than mine."

Ward turned crimson and reached for the laces. Good.

"You don't have to come with me, if you don't want." Perhaps a little concern for his well-being would help ingratiate her to him.

"To Solartti's?"

"Yes."

"Why would you say that?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. You seem..." She reached out to caress his cheek but pulled back before she could finish the action. That would be too much too soon. He seemed genuinely upset that she'd want to exclude him, but she still had no idea if it was real or part of his game. If he came with her, he'd learn what Solartti had discovered. But if she left him alone... who knew what he'd do? Run straight to her father or the Master?

She wished she had proof either way about Ward. After last night, more of her wanted him to be what she saw: a young man with a certain kind of charm, stuck in a situation beyond any of his previous experiences.

What was she thinking? Regardless, he would just slow her down or blab to someone. She couldn't have that. She would have to kill him regardless of his deft fingers. "You seem... preoccupied."

His brows furrowed.

And yet he wasn't completely useless. He'd helped at the Keeper's house and patched her up afterward.

d.a.m.n. Where was her hardened a.s.sa.s.sin's heart?

"I mean, I don't think you're comfortable around him."

"What makes you say that?" Sarcasm dripped from his words. "He warned your father we were breaking into the records room. I don't think you should go and talk to him with or without me."

"And you're going to stop me?"

He crossed his arms. "Yes."

She laughed. There was the Ward she knew, ridiculous with his wiry arms crossed against his narrow chest and his long legs in a wide stance. And yet, she couldn't deny there was a new hint of strength about him.

"We each have our specialties, Ward." She patted his shoulder. "And combat is not yours."

"Then I'm going with you."

She was also beginning to recognize his annoying persistence.

SEVENTEEN.

Solartti was not home, but Celia had a good idea where he would be. The Ancient Spider, where they'd run into him during their wild escape from the records room. Like most questionable businesses in Brawenal, her father received a protection tax from the owner, but he had little to do with the actual business. Which, thankfully, meant there was little risk of running into her father or any of his close a.s.sociates since they preferred more upscale entertainment.

However, through many hours of acute observation, she knew a number of her fellow a.s.sa.s.sins did patronize the establishment and there was still the chance someone there had the a.s.signment on her. They, like Solartti, enjoyed drinking charlatous-a potent alcoholic beverage that induced euphoric hallucinations-laced with zephnyr oil, which enhanced the effect. A few of those concoctions, and you could happily fly beyond the difficulties of life for hours, not to mention leave yourself open for an easy attack.

Telling Ward they needed to return to the dance hall would send him into convulsions, so she neglected to mention it, taking pleasure in his nervous fussing as they drew closer to the recessed red door.

As she reached for the latch, she turned to Ward, ready for an argument or, in the very least, some comment. But he kept his mouth set in a tight line.

"I need you to keep your head down and your eyes open."

"Can someone do that?"

"Now is not the time to get philosophical."

He bit his lip.

"Good." She pushed open the door and noise engulfed her. Music, laughter, talking, the clatter of mugs and dishes and knives on tables. A haze of wood, pipe, and the distinctive purple smoke of Susain herbs surrounded them, carrying the aromas of fish, bread, ale, and sweat. There was no one in the immediate area she recognized from the Guild, and most people, if they didn't ignore her and Ward outright, took a cursory glance and turned back to their conversation.

She allowed herself a moment to register potential dangers: blades, obstacles, anyone who carried themselves with the catlike grace she a.s.sociated with her profession. Nothing stood out.

She glanced at Ward, who sucked in a quick breath, then looked behind him to ensure he'd closed the door. He had and, save for another sigh, appeared relaxed, almost happy. He was getting better at hiding his emotions. Perhaps he could survive a day or two as an a.s.sa.s.sin. She gave herself a mental shake. Not likely.

They walked to the edge of the main balcony and looked down at the dance floor, which was actually the first bas.e.m.e.nt. She'd heard a rumor the Ancient Spider boasted three other bas.e.m.e.nts for even shadier pleasures, but she'd never seen them or had the desire to ask. Dancing and drinking plain wine were as far as she wanted to go. An a.s.sa.s.sin needed to keep her wits, or she'd lose her head.

She grabbed his hand and led him to the back of the first-floor balcony. Solartti's favorite table sat over the stage. Which meant, if he was not too far gone that night, he would have already noticed them.

They found him at his usual table, his chair in the corner, his eyes gla.s.sy. Celia eased into the chair beside him and squeezed his arm. He made no indication he noticed their presence.

Ward sat beside her and glanced around.

"What do you see?" she asked, staying focused on Solartti.

"People dancing, eating, drinking."

She gave Solartti another shake. Nothing.

"What's wrong with him?"

She pa.s.sed Ward the only mug on the table. He brought it to his lips but didn't drink. Instead, he sniffed.

"Charlatous."

"And?"

He ran his finger around the edge of the rim, looked at it, and pressed it against his thumb. "Don't you people know how dangerous this is?"

She snorted. Another trait she'd began to recognize in Ward: his ability to state the obvious. "Help me stand him up."

"What are you planning?" He set the mug down.

"I'm planning on taking him back to his house so when he's slept it off he can talk to us."

"And you think we're just going to walk an unconscious man out of here and no one will notice?"

She grinned and winked. "I do it all the time."

"I bet you do."

He rose, moved to Solartti's other side, and placed the man's arm across his shoulders.

She glanced around the balcony. It was packed with people sitting, standing, talking, laughing. A few danced. It was going to be a challenge to move Solartti; usually, he was conscious enough to stand on his own. What could have possibly made him take so much oil?

A woman with short blonde hair emerged from the shadows on the other side of the balcony. She leaned against the railing and gazed down at the dance floor. Candlelight reflected on the earrings in her right ear.

What was she doing here? Celia turned to Ward. "We have to hurry. That woman is here."

"What woman?"

She glared at him and pulled her right earlobe.

"Who?"

"From the Keeper's house."

"Oh. So why do we have to hurry?"

She had no good answer. All she knew was that if the woman had talked to Bakmeire, they didn't want to risk her seeing them. She wished she could be nice to Ward and sugarcoat the whole situation, but her gut screamed at her to leave, fast. She'd have to explain later. "We hurry because I say so."

Ward rolled his eyes and looked ready for a fight, but he picked up Solartti instead and, with the extra weight, staggered to the front of the table. His expression changed from frustration to something she couldn't quite place. He furrowed his brow and his eyes gla.s.sed over. Great, now was not the time for him to suddenly become lost in some intellectual problem.

"We need to get moving, Ward." She took Solartti's other side.

"I, ah..."

The woman started around the balcony to her left so Celia chose the other direction. If they kept their heads low perhaps she wouldn't notice them. Celia snorted at the thought. Who wouldn't notice a walking, talking scarecrow like Ward?

"Could you try to crouch a little?" she asked.