"Nah, Izzy asked at his brother's house. They haven't seen him."
"And the only person Kyle likes is you, Lars," Emelie said, standing. Isobel glared at her, but Lars just stared at his drink. "This is too depressing. I'm leaving."
"Are you sure?" Taya asked. "Cris — Exalted Forlore said he'd stop by tonight, if he can, to tell us how the investigation is going."
Emelie vacillated for a few seconds, then shrugged.
"Maybe I'll stop by later. But I can't stand sitting around here doing nothing."
"We'll send a message to your flat if anything changes," Isobel said. Emelie nodded and walked off, buttoning her coat. The tall blonde turned and patted Lars on the shoulder. "Cheer up. It'll be all right. A lot of people are looking for him."
"Let's order that anise drink," Cassi suggested. "Sounds like we could all use something stronger than beer, and if it tastes bad, it'll take our minds off our worries."
They sat around drinking and talking for another hour. Taya excused herself for a few minutes and went into a back room to change into her flight suit. She felt better wearing it, even if one leg flapped. By the time the city clocks struck six, Victor and Pyke had returned, looking satisfied and paying for Gregor's delayed meal. The coachman sat at a table by the door, keeping an eye on his hack, while the two men rejoined them.
"Where's Em?" Victor asked, dropping into a chair. Isobel slid the squat bottle of greenish-black liquor over to him. He helped himself to Lars’ small glass and poured.
"She went home," Isobel said. "She said she might be back later."
"Sure." The bearded man made a face and drank, then shuddered and refilled the glass, handing it to Pyke.
"Did you find out anything about the red door?" Taya asked.
"Nothing useful," the programmer said. Next to him, Pyke took a shot of the Tizier liquor and made a strangling noise, slamming the glass on the table.
"Lady and spirits above, that's the most disgusting thing I've ever tasted," he gasped.
"Isobel collects bad drinks," Cassi said, laughing. "She says this isn't even close to the worst."
"Well, so far nothing's been worse than the fermented goat's milk," Victor agreed, catching his team-mate's eye. Isobel smiled at him, sharing a private joke.
Disappointed that they hadn't learned anything about the red door, Taya slumped in her chair. "Your friend wasn't any help, then?"
"Scuro gave us some advice about entering Slagside." Victor waved a hand. "We can go down and find it ourselves."
"You aren't worried about getting into trouble?"
"Three icarii, three programmers, and a hack driver walk into Slagside — it sounds like the beginning to a bad joke, doesn't it?" The bearded man chuckled and Pyke laughed out loud. Taya wondered if they'd been drinking at Scuro's. They seemed flushed with excitement. She shook her head, then glanced up as the conversation around them died.
"We are not here to arrest anybody," Lt. Amcathra announced, walking in. The bar's patrons muttered, looking askance as Cristof followed the lictor. A few of the programmers made awkward bows. Others just stared with shock at the castemarks on his bare face.
The two men brushed past the tables and joined them. The team and Cassi bowed. Pyke waved a hand vaguely in front of his face. Cristof ignored them all.
"You have your wings again." He sounded disapproving as he dropped his hands on the back of Taya's chair. "I thought the doctor said you were grounded."
"Oooh, the exalted's bossy, as well as a prude," Cassi said, her voice carrying as she stared Cristof in the eye.
Cristof's lips tightened, and Taya realized that everyone around the table was staring at him with various degrees of interest. A number of programmers at the other tables were gaping, too.
For a moment the outcaste and the icarus locked gazes. At last Cristof gave the same low, irritable noise that Taya recognized from their arguments past.
"I'm also a slagging pain in the tailset and very rarely sweet. Do you have a problem with that, icarus?"
"'Rarely’ sweet," Taya corrected. "You've worked your way up to ‘rarely,’ remember?"
The tension broke, and Cassi rolled her eyes while the others chuckled.
"'Sweet’ is a side of you I have not seen, exalted," Lt. Amcathra remarked, deadpan. "I have, however, noticed the other three traits."
"Then he is a prude," Cassi said, triumphantly.
Cristof leaned over the chair and gave Taya a faint, crooked smile.
"How are you feeling?" he asked in a low voice as Isobel offered the lieutenant some of the Tizier liquor. The Demican shook his head.
"All right. We've got some news and maybe even a lead or two."
"So do we. Why does your friend think I'm a prude?"
"Because you were asking about my former boyfriends."
"Oh." He glanced across the table at Cassi. "I should have known she'd talk."
"Not all the stereotypes about icarii are true, you know."
"I just wanted to know how many jealous exes I'll have to deal with."
Taya flushed, not sure whether to be annoyed or flattered. "The only person you need to worry about is Cassi. She'll make your life hell if she decides she doesn't like you."
"Lady help me." He brushed a finger down her cheek, then straightened as Lars hoisted two chairs over the table for the newcomers. The rest of the patrons in the bar were being incrementally shoved back to the walls.
"We cannot stay long," Amcathra objected, looking around. His eyes settled on Taya. "We have come here to pick you up."
"The Council approved Alister's reduced sentence," Cristof said, his voice tense with excitement. "I think it's the fastest I've ever seen them move."
"Cris." Taya felt her heart leap, and she gave him a smile of pure relief. Viera would be furious, and Alister probably didn't deserve to live, but Taya couldn't help but be happy for Cristof's sake. "That's great."
"Reduced to what?" Isobel asked.
"Blinding and exile," Lt. Amcathra replied. "Some people would call the sentence worse than death."
"Not Alister." Taya touched Cristof's arm, and he nodded.
"So." Lars sighed. "I guess that's good, then."
"It's good," Victor agreed. "But a lot of citizens are going to call it favoritism."
"Damn right it's favoritism," Pyke growled. "Doesn't sound to me like they even paused to discuss it. I hope the Council's ready for the backlash."
"Did you get the information you needed from him?" Taya asked, to forestall Cristof's irritation.
"We're on our way to see him now," he said, giving Pyke a hard look before glancing back at her. "I thought you'd want to be there."
"Us, too," Lars said, standing. "We're his friends."
"We are visiting the exalted to discuss a criminal investigation, not to celebrate his successful blackmail of the city Council," Amcathra said, chillingly.
"Sure, but it's a criminal investigation in which we're the primary suspects," the big man objected.
"Do you have any good reason to exclude us?" Victor challenged the lictor.
"You, of all people, should not annoy me, Mister Kiernan."
Victor and Pyke traded quick looks, and Taya felt a moment's alarm. What were they involved in, anyway?
"I might be more help than you think," Victor countered.
"We all know what's going on," Cassi pointed out. "And we all want to get the you-know-what back. You might as well make us useful, or we'll just hang around outside the station and follow you everywhere you go."
"I cannot stop you from doing that," Amcathra admitted. "But perhaps when it grows late and cold you will lose your enthusiasm."
"Keep hoping," Isobel said, smiling. Amcathra glanced at her, then inclined his head in acknowledgement of their shared northern heritage. Still, his next words were directed to Taya.