[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
My lady, it s etiquette among he rejected mages and our kind people like ourselves not to
mention chance-gained knowledge, unless there s need, or two people are close. He raised his hand as
she drew a quick breath, choosing to assume she would apologize rather than deny the intimacy. We re
not keeping tally, r member. . . . And you have the truth of it: I was afraid. You ve that much more
power than I do fifth or sixth rank, I d say, to my first and you re untrained. You could have drained
me to a husk t give to your husband, and there d have been nothing I could ve done t stop you.
Her breathing was harsh. Then why did you do it? Does the magic . . . demand its expression?
Not so as to make a man lose what common sense he s born with, no, Ishmael said wryly. Y need
never use your power At her quick-drawn breath, he said roughly, Don t shy from it, m lady. Your
power s real, and it s yours. Y need never use it in a way that seems wrong to you. There were
qualifications to that statement, but it would stand for now.
I don t want it, she said sharply.
I know, he said. But you have it.
Take off your gloves, she said suddenly.
What
Take off your gloves. With swift, jerky motions, she snatched off her own. Give me your hands. I
want to know this man who knows the worst of me.
He gripped the chair arms. No, he said. My lady, no.
Her small, bare hand trembled between them. It was not her power he feared. His first fear, the fear that
had driven his refusal, was that what she learned from and of him would repel her. His engagement in his
power, his years as a mercenary Shadowhunter, his encounters with the Shadowborn, and the Call that
twisted and hauled on his very core. His private sins and torments were reasons enough to dread her
touch. But there was a greater fear: that if she pressed touch on him, despite his express refusal, he would
know that he had misjudged her. He would know that he could not trust her to wield her power well.
He said intensely, Lady Telmaine, you should not want t do this.
Page 51
Then she shuddered, revulsion crossing her face, and snatched back her hand and thrust it into her glove
as though it represented some indecency. I m sorry, she said. I m sorry.
He did not want her restrained in her power by revulsion, but by common sense and courtesy. He said,
We Darkborn mages have our own authorities, m lady, for all that they re hardly recognized either by
our own state or th Lightborn. We ve got to govern ourselves, or suffer the Temple s justice. I ll not
claim we re all perfect, but we can t but know th pain of others, and want t ease it if we can. You re that
way yourself: Y can t tell me you didn t dance with me out of kindness.
From the study, Balthasar Hearne moaned in his stupor, and she rustled to her feet and went quickly
past Ish to go to her husband, to soothe him, no doubt, with her touch. He wondered whether Hearne or
their daughters had ever known a day s illness or suffering before this. He doubted, somehow, that they
had, but it was too soon to make her aware of it.
He did not expect her to return, and decided he would wait for the sunset bell and leave as soon as
someone she could trust arrived. There were still things she had to know about her power and its
obligations, but he could only hope that they could wait until she was less fragile.
He started out of a still and amorphous reverie at the sound of a rustle of a hem and sonned her sharply,
too sharply, perceiving something of her shapely private form beneath her graceful dress. She said, Mute
your sonn, sir!
I m sorry, m lady. You startled me.
Did I? She spoke with an effort. Good.
Take care how you spend your energy, he warned, hearing the fatigue, knowing its source.
It is mine to spend.
He smiled thinly; he had answered so with equal arrogance, and less cause, before bitter experience
taught him otherwise. He gestured her to the chair. Thought you d ve lain down by your husband and
gone back t sleep.
Did you? You might have been done with me; I certainly am not done with you. What do you know of
all this? What has that woman told you? Who did this to him, and why? Where is my daughter? Her
sonn stung him, but it was a genteel sting, nothing like the raking that she no doubt intended it to be. She
was too well-bred to use or even know the full power of her sonn.
He honored her intent, nevertheless. This is what I had from Mistress Floria. Two nights before last a
woman came t your husband s door just as the sunrise bell tolled, begging t be let in. Her name was
Tercelle Amberley.
A soft indrawn hiss of breath, her posture intent, but no words. He waited a moment, then continued,
She was great with child, a child she said was fathered by a lover not her betrothed who came to
her in the daytime. Her pains began before the sunset bell and she gave birth to twins. Your husband
thinks the babes were sighted, like Lightborn. Th mother tried t expose the children at the next sunrise,
which your husband put a stop to, and at sunset she left the house. Your husband s sister took th infants
yesterday, promising t find them a home. I heard from Mistress Floria that Mistress Olivede had a visit at
her clinic from a pair of rogues like the ones who set on your husband, who met a sorry welcome.
Page 52
Unfortunately, they were rousted before she d a chance to know it was other than an attempt at robbery,
or she might have sent warning. She ll be here as soon as it is safe to travel.
A sharper hiss of breath.
I can call in one of your leeches, if you d rather, he said un-charitably. Did she imagine that nonmage
physicians could have kept her husband alive? I doubt they d do him any harm, with you there.
Go on, she said, ignoring the provocation.
He subsided. It was unfair to blame her alone for the prejudices of her class. That s the sum of it. I ll be
glad to lay it before Lord Vladimer, let him find the pattern in it.
By all means, entertain Lord Vladimer with your mysteries, Telmaine said. But I have to find my
daughter.
I ve not forgotten the little one. Come sunset, if Mistress Floria s part of it has not borne fruit, I ll be
speaking to a man who knows the underworld. We can speak to the public agents, too, if you d like.
And have it appear in the broadsheets? she said. My family would never forgive me.
As one who had provided ample fodder for the broadsheets excesses, he could sympathize. Notorious
Mage Baron was his usual sobriquet, interspersed with the Shadowhunter when he chanced to be in
favor. And the ill-paid public agents who were the city s law enforcement supplemented their incomes
with sales to reporters.
I ll have to engage private agents, she said wearily. Maybe my brother-in-law can help.
Thus a lady prompted a gentleman to take up her burden, he thought, though in truth he d have needed
no such prompting. Lord Vladimer should have no objections t my tapping his network for this, and
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]