supplies, and soon even Tira would come dashing back into the bailey, her small arms filled with bandages. By the time the sun sank behind the castle walls, it was over. Grace had lost just three of her patients—though there were nine more who had died in the explosion and whose bodies had been pulled from the rubble. A dozen in all. Still, when she thought of the crowded castle, it was hard to believe it hadn't been worse.
It would have been, if people hadn't run into the middle of the bailey after the first explosion to try to see what had happened. But what exactly
had
happened? In the aftermath of the explosions, all of their energy had gone into plucking people from the debris and treating their wounds. Only what had caused the explosions in the first place?
Just as she opened her mouth to ask the others what they thought, a tapestry fluttered, and Vani was there. She stalked toward the high table, silent in her form-fitting black leathers. She carried a small cloth sack. Grace hadn't seen her since just after the last explosion. Where had she been?
Travis smiled at Vani, a look that was weary but warm. “It's good to see you,” he said, and at the same time Beltan said, “Did you find anything?”
Vani gazed at Travis, and for a moment her face softened. Grace often forgot how beautiful the
T'gol
was. Intertwining tattoos accentuated the graceful line of her neck, and thirteen gold earrings glittered on her left ear. Then Vani looked at Beltan, and her features sharpened. “Yes, we did find something.”
“We?” Durge said, stroking his mustaches; they were gray with dust. “Who else was with you?”
Vani glanced at the wall. Grace saw only blank gray stones. Then the stones rippled, and a man stepped away from the wall. He was slightly built, with a pointed blond beard, and flicked back a shimmering gray cloak that had blended seamlessly with the wall.
“There you are, Aldeth,” Aryn said, setting down her wine goblet. “I was wondering if you would show yourself.”
“Actually, I wasn't really planning on it, Your Highness. However, it seems someone had other ideas.” He cast a sidelong glance at Vani.
The
T'gol
shrugged. “I cannot be blamed because you did a poor job of hiding.”
“I let you find me in the north tower,” the Spider said hotly.
“You mean in the same way a sheep graciously allows a wolf to catch it?”
The Spider glared at the assassin but seemed unable to formulate a rejoinder. Grace shot Aryn a questioning look. How had the baroness known Aldeth was here in Calavere? The last time they had seen him had been many months ago in Castle Spardis. He was a Spider, one of Queen Inara's personal spies; surely he was a long way from home. It seemed Aryn had not told Grace everything in their conversations over the Weirding.
“I'd like to know what you uncovered,” Falken said. “That is, if you two can stop hissing and spitting long enough to tell us.” The bard held his lute but had yet to play a note. As usual, a black glove covered his right hand. Melia sat next to him, amber eyes thoughtful, Tira on her lap. The girl hugged a black kitten with eyes the same color as Melia's.
“We found this,” Vani said, setting the sack on the table.
Aldeth rubbed his neck. “Actually, I found it, and you shook it off of me like a common cutpurse.”
Despite all that had happened, Grace found herself smiling. Something told her two shadowy types were one more than a single castle could comfortably contain.
“What is it?” Tarus said.
Vani untied the sack and turned it over. Fine black dust poured out in a steady stream.
Durge shoved back his chair and leaped to his feet. “Get the candles away!”
Lirith and Sareth hastily snatched a pair of candles from the table and snuffed them out. Most of the others looked at Durge in confusion, but Grace understood. She had smelled the sharp, acrid odor on countless gunshot victims in the ED.
“It's gunpowder,” she said.
Durge
It would have been, if people hadn't run into the middle of the bailey after the first explosion to try to see what had happened. But what exactly
had
happened? In the aftermath of the explosions, all of their energy had gone into plucking people from the debris and treating their wounds. Only what had caused the explosions in the first place?
Just as she opened her mouth to ask the others what they thought, a tapestry fluttered, and Vani was there. She stalked toward the high table, silent in her form-fitting black leathers. She carried a small cloth sack. Grace hadn't seen her since just after the last explosion. Where had she been?
Travis smiled at Vani, a look that was weary but warm. “It's good to see you,” he said, and at the same time Beltan said, “Did you find anything?”
Vani gazed at Travis, and for a moment her face softened. Grace often forgot how beautiful the
T'gol
was. Intertwining tattoos accentuated the graceful line of her neck, and thirteen gold earrings glittered on her left ear. Then Vani looked at Beltan, and her features sharpened. “Yes, we did find something.”
“We?” Durge said, stroking his mustaches; they were gray with dust. “Who else was with you?”
Vani glanced at the wall. Grace saw only blank gray stones. Then the stones rippled, and a man stepped away from the wall. He was slightly built, with a pointed blond beard, and flicked back a shimmering gray cloak that had blended seamlessly with the wall.
“There you are, Aldeth,” Aryn said, setting down her wine goblet. “I was wondering if you would show yourself.”
“Actually, I wasn't really planning on it, Your Highness. However, it seems someone had other ideas.” He cast a sidelong glance at Vani.
The
T'gol
shrugged. “I cannot be blamed because you did a poor job of hiding.”
“I let you find me in the north tower,” the Spider said hotly.
“You mean in the same way a sheep graciously allows a wolf to catch it?”
The Spider glared at the assassin but seemed unable to formulate a rejoinder. Grace shot Aryn a questioning look. How had the baroness known Aldeth was here in Calavere? The last time they had seen him had been many months ago in Castle Spardis. He was a Spider, one of Queen Inara's personal spies; surely he was a long way from home. It seemed Aryn had not told Grace everything in their conversations over the Weirding.
“I'd like to know what you uncovered,” Falken said. “That is, if you two can stop hissing and spitting long enough to tell us.” The bard held his lute but had yet to play a note. As usual, a black glove covered his right hand. Melia sat next to him, amber eyes thoughtful, Tira on her lap. The girl hugged a black kitten with eyes the same color as Melia's.
“We found this,” Vani said, setting the sack on the table.
Aldeth rubbed his neck. “Actually, I found it, and you shook it off of me like a common cutpurse.”
Despite all that had happened, Grace found herself smiling. Something told her two shadowy types were one more than a single castle could comfortably contain.
“What is it?” Tarus said.
Vani untied the sack and turned it over. Fine black dust poured out in a steady stream.
Durge shoved back his chair and leaped to his feet. “Get the candles away!”
Lirith and Sareth hastily snatched a pair of candles from the table and snuffed them out. Most of the others looked at Durge in confusion, but Grace understood. She had smelled the sharp, acrid odor on countless gunshot victims in the ED.
“It's gunpowder,” she said.
Durge
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