"I see you've added abduction to your resume," he said, the corners of his mouth crooking upward. "As if murder wasn't enough?"
"Portia didn't murder anyone," Sarah said, coming forward to give me a hand with Carol as she continued to fight her bonds, her eyes wild. "If you knew her, you'd realize that she's incapable of something so immoral."
Carol flung herself backward, her head knocking into mine as she tried to kick my legs out from under me. I sidestepped the back kick, yanking her bound arms up and hissing in her ear in as mean a voice as possible, "You try that again, and I'll break both your arms."
Gabriel's eyebrows rose.
"There are, naturally, different interpretations on the word 'immoral'," Sarah said, looking as if she was about to explain the whole circumstance to Gabriel.
"Don't bother trying to make him understand," I interrupted. "Gabriel has his mind already made up about me."
"Gabriel?" Sarah's face took on an awe-struck cast. "Gabriel?"
"Not that Gabriel," he said, looking annoyed. "What is it with you mortals? Is there only one Gabriel you know?"
Sarah nodded, disappointment rife in her eyes.
"This Gabriel is a cherub," I said, catching sight of a familiar form skulking along the edge of a building, staying well into the shadows. "And not a particularly nice one. Come on, Carol, we have a little business with some friends of yours."
"I could make a comment about your niceness as well, virtue," Gabriel called after us as we left him. "But I am too much a cherub to do so!"
"What's his problem?" Sarah asked in a whisper, glancing over her shoulder at him.
"He's a bit pissed that I refused to let him seduce me. Or so I gather—honestly, it could be just about anything. I may have breached some sort of Court etiquette or something, and offended him. I've never felt so out of my depths in my life."
"I wouldn't worry about it." Sarah gave me a reassuring pat on the arm. "Gabriel may be a handsome devil, but he's no Theo."
"Indeed he isn't."
Theo's eyes were shaded by the brim of his hat, but I could see the light color of his irises even before I got up close to him.
Not a good sign.
"I don't suppose you'd care to explain just why you felt it necessary to kidnap someone when we're attempting to clear your name of a murder charge?" Theo asked.
"I told her it wasn't a good idea," Sarah piped in. "But you know how Portia is—once she has a goal in mind, she moves heaven and earth to achieve it. It must be all that science stuff—she's so linear in the way she thinks."
"She can be," Theo said, his gaze darkening into something expressing less displeasure and more thoughtfulness. "Which leads me to believe that I might owe her an apology after all. It's been my experience that Portia doesn't look before leaping, so to speak."
"Thank you, I will graciously accept your apology. Is there a mare or two around we can speak with? I think they're going to find Carol very interesting."
Theo gave the bound woman a long look. Who is this?
Milo's wife, Carol Lee.
Theo waited for more. I smiled into his head. Don't you recognize her? She's an old friend of yours.
His eyes narrowed as he looked her over more closely. She jerked convulsively, trying to break my hold on her bound arms, her eyes all but spitting hatred at us.
I knew the instant Theo recognized her. His eyes widened as he took a step toward her.
"I think we should let that wait for the mare," I told him. "Are they in the library, do you know?"
"I have no idea where they are, but we will find out," he said, stepping past us, careful not to leave the shade of the building as he hailed a young girl passing on a brightly colored bike. He had a few minutes' discussion with her, then gestured to us to follow him. "The messenger says that two of the mare are in the sanctuary."
Carol flung herself on the ground, shrieking behind her gag. Theo simply hoisted her onto his shoulders and carried her to the area of the Court containing the offices and grand apartments.
"We have an audience," Sarah said as we marched along. I glanced back to where she was looking. Just about everyone who had been in the town square was following behind us, with others streaming in to swell their ranks as we proceeded to the other section of the city.
This should prove to be interesting, Theo said as we waited for the same dapifer who had taken care of us a few days before to determine if the mare would see us. Added to what I found out while you were so industriously occupied, I believe we may have a solution.
Oh, I can't believe I didn't ask you about that! Did you talk to Terrin? What did you find out?
"Their graces the mare Irina and mare Disin have granted you an audience," the dapifer said, his lips moving soundlessly as he eyeballed the gathered crowd behind us. "I believe the ballroom will be best. This way, please."
What did Terrin tell you?
Have you ever heard of renascence?
Renaissance? Sure.
No, renascence. He spelled it for me. The concept is similar to renaissance in that both essentially mean rebirth, but in this instance its usage applies solely to the Court of Divine Blood.
In what way? I asked as we were led to an entirely different area of the keep from where we'd been before.
It is the method by which the entire Court hierarchy is remade. The sovereign allows one renascence per millennium.
What happens to the people who are remade? I asked, my skin crawling as thoughts of concentration camps and ethnic purging danced through my head.
They take new positions under the reformed hierarchy. It is not a mass extermination, sweetling…although the results can be nearly as devastating.
"Do we get to see the sovereign?" Sarah asked in an awe-hushed voice, drawing my attention from the dark path my thoughts had taken.
I looked around us as we made our way into the depths of the castle, noticing the surroundings with growing amazement. The word "grand" was an understatement when applied to the reception rooms. Rich ebony-edged lapis lazuli furniture jostled for room with crimson and gold chairs, settees, and opulent drapery. The walls looked like something out of an art museum, with objects adorning almost every free space: everything from chunks of rocky walls bearing faded cave paintings, to wooden triptychs depicting the medieval idea of religion scenes, to icons, both old and new.
The dapifer leading the way stopped before a pair of rococo double doors. He turned back to us, giving Sarah a frown. "The sovereign is never seen."
"What do you mean, never seen?" Sarah looked confused. "Not seen without an appointment?"
"No, I mean that the sovereign is never seen. That is, the sovereign does not appear in the Court of Divine Blood. Their graces are waiting for you," he continued, giving Theo and me a nod.
"Wait a second," I said, stopping him as he was about to open the door. "Are you saying that the person running the Court doesn't bother to put in an appearance once in a while?"
The dapifer's face reflected mild annoyance. "The sovereign does not choose to make its physical form known."
"How incredibly convenient," I said, shaking my head. "Why?"
"Why?" The dapifer's eyebrows went up. "Why what?"
"Why does the sovereign choose to not make its appearance known in the Court, its own home, if I understand the premise correctly. Is it afraid of something?"
The murmur of conversation that had accompanied the crowd following us hushed into a pregnant silence.