“This way!” Venera gestured for Sarto to precede her, then stalked toward the distant pile of buttresses and roofs that was the Fair.
Garth followed, but as the fog of exhaustion and pain slowly lifted from him he found himself considering their chances. It was folly for Venera to involve herself in this war. Sidelined, she might be safe.
Sacrus had known what to reveal about her to draw her fangs, but they had chosen not to reveal it. The only person on this side of the conflict who knew was Garth himself. If word got out, Venera would naturally assume that it was Sacrus’s doing. It would be so simple…
Troubled but determined to follow this thought to its conclusion, Garth put an extra effort into his footsteps and kept up with Venera as she made for the Fair.
Liris perched on the very lip of the abyss. At sunoff the building’s roof was soaked with light, all golds and purple and rose. The sky that opened beyond the battlement was open to all sides; Venera could almost imagine that she was back in the provinces of Meridian where the town wheels were small and manageable and you could fly through the free air whenever you chose. She leaned out, the better to lose herself in the radiance.
Tents had been set up on the rooftop behind her, and Moss was holding court to a wild variety of Spyre dignitaries. They came in all shapes and sizes, masked and unmasked, lords and ladies and diplomats and generalissimos. United by their fear of Sacrus and its allies, they were hastily assembling a battle plan while their tiny armies traveled here from across Greater Spyre. Venera had looked for those armies earlier—but who could spot a dozen men here or there making their way between the mazelike walls of the estates?
It would be an eerie journey, she knew. Garth had shown her the overgrown gates to estates whose windows were slathered with black paint, whose occupants had not been seen in generations. Smoke drifted from their chimneys; someone was home. The soldiers of her alliance might stop at one or two of those gateways and shout and rattle the iron, hoping to find allies within. But there would be no answer, unless it be a rifle shot from behind a wall.
For the first time in days, Venera found herself idle. She was too tired to look for something to do, and so as she gazed out at the endless skies that familiar deep melancholy stole over her. This time, she let it happen.
She wanted Chaison back. It was time to admit it. There were many moments every day when Venera longed to turn to him and grin and say, “Look what I did!” or “Have you ever seen anything like it?” She’d had such a moment only an hour ago, as the first of the Dali horses were led into their new paddock in the far corner of Liris’s lot. The spindly steeds had been trained to be ridden, and she had mounted up herself and trotted one in a circle. Oh, she’d wanted to catch someone’s eye at that moment! But she was Amandera Thrace-Guiles now. There was no one to appeal to, not even Garth, who was making himself scarce since their arrival.
She heard a footstep behind her. Bryce leaned on the stones and casually reached out to take her hand. She almost snatched it back, but his touch awoke something in her. This was not the man she wanted, but there was some value in him wanting her. She smiled at him.
“All the pawns and knights are in play,” he said. His thumb rubbed the back of her hand. “It’s our opponent’s move. What would you like to do while we wait?”
Venera’s pulse quickened. His strong fingers were kneading her hand now, almost painfully.
“Uh…” she said, then before she could talk herself out of it, “They’ve given me an actual room this time.”
“Well.” He smiled ironically. “That’s an honor. Let’s go try it out.”
He walked toward the stairs. Venera hesitated, turning to look out at the dimming sky. No: the pang was still there, and no amount of time with Bryce was going to make it go away. But what was she to do?
Venera followed him down the stairs, her excitement mounting. Several people hailed her, but she simply waved and hurried past. “This way,” she said, grabbing Bryce’s arm as he made to descend the main stairs. She dragged him through a doorway hidden behind a faded tapestry. This led to a narrow and dusty little corridor with several doors leading off of it. Hers was at the end.
She barely had time to open the door before his arms were around her waist. He kissed her with passionate force and together they staggered back to the bed under its little pebbled-glass window.
“Shut the door!” she gasped, and as he went to comply she undid her blouse. As he knelt on the bed she guided his hand under the silk. They kept their mouths locked together as they undressed one another, then she took his cock in her hands and didn’t let go as they sank back onto the cushions.
Later as they sprawled across the demolished bed, he turned to her and said, “Are we partners?”
Venera blinked at him for a moment. Her mind had been entirely elsewhere—or more exactly, nowhere. “What?”
He shrugged onto his side and his hand casually fell on her hip. “Am I your employee? Or are we pursuing parallel interests?”
“Oh. Well, that’s your decision, isn’t it?”
“Hmm.” He smiled, but she could tell he wasn’t satisfied with that reply. “My people have been acting as your spies for the past few weeks. They’re not happy about it. Truth to tell, Amandera, I’m not happy about it.”
“Aaahhh…” She stretched and leaned back. “So the past hour was your way of softening me up for this conversation?”
“Well, no, but if there’s going to be a good strategic moment to raise the issue, this has got to be it.” She laughed at his audacity. He was no longer smiling, though.
“You’d be mistaken if you thought I was picking sides in this war,” he said. “I don’t give a damn whether it’s Sacrus or your faction that wins. It’s still titled nobles, and it’ll make no difference to the common people.”
Now she sat up. “You want your printing press.”
“I have my printing press. I forged your signature on some orders and it was delivered yesterday. Those of my people who aren’t in the field right now are running it. Turning out bills by the thousands.”
She examined his face in the candlelight. “So… how many of your people really are in the field?”
“A half dozen.”
“You told me they were all out!” She glared at him as a knife of pain shot up her jaw. “A half dozen? Is this why we had no warning that the estate was being attacked? Because you were keeping a handful of people where they’d be visible to me?—So I’d think they were all out?”
“That’s about the size of it, yes.”
She punched him in the chest. “You lost me my estate! My house! What else have you given to Sacrus?”
“Sacrus is not my affair,” he said. Bryce was deadly earnest now. Clearly she had misjudged him. “Restoring emergent democracy in Virga is my only interest,” he said. “But I don’t want you to die in this war, and I’m sorry about your house, if it’s any consolation. But what choice did I have? If everything descends into chaos, when am I going to get my ink? My paper? When were you going to do what I needed you to do? Look me in the eye and tell me it was a priority for you.”
Venera groaned. “Oh, Bryce. This is the worst possible time…”
“—The only time I have!”
“All right, all right, I see your point.” She glowered at the plaster ceiling. “What if… what if I send some of my people in to run the press? We don’t need trained insurgents to do that. All I want is to get your people out in the field! I’ll give you as much ink and paper as you want.”
He flopped onto his back. “I’ll think about that.”
There was a brief silence.