“What I can do, and what I must do, is ensure that when the time comes, they will have a voice of sobriety in such a place that they cannot get rid of it. You and Nazca are old friends, yes? I remember the first time you met, so many years ago…when she used to sit on my knee and pretend to order my men around. In all the years since, you have always stopped to see her, always given her kind words? Always been her good pezon?”
“Ah…I certainly hope so, Your Honor.”
“I know you have.” Barsavi took a deep draught from his wine goblet, then set it back down firmly, a magnanimous smile on his round, wrinkled face. “And so I give you my permission to court my daughter.”
Let’s start wobbling, shall we? said Locke’s knees, but this offer was met by a counterproposal from his better judgment to simply freeze up and do nothing, like a man treading water who sees a tall black fin coming straight at him. “Oh,” he finally said, “I don’t…I didn’t expect…”
“Of course not,” said Barsavi. “But in this our purposes are complementary. I know you and Nazca have feelings for one another. A union between the two of you would bring you into the Barsavi family. You would become Anjais and Pachero’s responsibility…and they yours. Don’t you see? A brother-by-bonding would be much harder for them to ignore than even their most powerful garrista.” Barsavi set his left fist inside his right and smiled broadly once again, like a red-faced god dispensing benevolence from a celestial throne.
Locke took a deep breath. There was nothing else for it; the situation required absolute acquiescence, as surely as if the capa were holding a crossbow to his temple. Men died for refusing Barsavi far less; to refuse the capa’s own daughter would be a particularly messy sort of suicide. If Locke balked at the capa’s plan he wouldn’t live out the night.
“I…I’m honored, Capa Barsavi. So deeply honored. I hope not to disappoint you.”
“Disappoint me? Certainly not. Now, I know that several of my other garristas have had their eyes on Nazca for some time. But if one of them was going to catch her eye, he’d have done it by now, eh? What a surprise, when they hear the news. They’ll never see this coming!”
And for a wedding present, thought Locke, the angry jealousy of an unknown number of jilted suitors!
“How, then…how and when should I begin, Your Honor?”
“Well,” said Barsavi, “why don’t I give you a few days to think it over? I’ll speak to her, in the interim. Of course, for the time being, she’s not to leave the Floating Grave. Once the Gray King is dealt with-well, I would expect you to begin courting her in a more colorful and public fashion.”
“You’re telling me,” Locke said, very carefully, “I should start stealing more, then.”
“Consider it my challenge to you, to go hand in hand with my blessing.” Barsavi smirked. “Let’s see if you can stay prudent while becoming more productive. I suspect you can-and I know that you wouldn’t want to disappoint me or my daughter.”
“Certainly not, Your Honor. I’ll…I’ll do my very best.”
Capa Barsavi beckoned Locke forward and held his left hand out, fingers outstretched, palm down. Locke knelt before Barsavi’s chair, took that hand with both of his own, and kissed the capa’s ring; that familiar black pearl with the bloodred heart. “Capa Barsavi,” he said with his eyes to the ground. The capa pulled him up again, by the shoulders.
“I give you my blessing, Locke Lamora. The blessing of an old man who worries for his children. I set you above many dangerous people by doing this for you. Surely, it has occurred to you that my sons will inherit a dangerous office. And if they’re not careful enough, or hard enough for the task…well, stranger things have happened. Someday this city could be ruled by Capa Lamora. Have you ever dreamed of this?”
“Truthfully,” whispered Locke, “I have never desired a capa’s power, because I would never want a capa’s problems.”
“Well, there’s that prudence again.” The capa smiled and gestured toward the far doors, giving Locke permission to withdraw. “A capa’s problems are very real. But you’ve helped me put one of them to rest.”
Locke walked back toward the entrance hall, thoughts racing. The capa sat on his chair behind him, staring at nothing, saying no more. The only sounds after that were Locke’s own footsteps and the steady drip of blood from the gore-soaked bag around Federico’s head.
8
“WELL, NAZCA, if I were a thousand years old and had already seen everything there is to see six times over, that still would have been about the last damn thing I’d have ever expected!”
She was waiting for him in the little hall beyond the foyer; once the clockwork mechanisms had sealed the door to the main hall behind them, she gave him a wry and apologetic look.
“But don’t you see that it would have been even stranger if I’d explained it beforehand?”
“The whole mess would be hard-pressed to get any gods-damned weirder. Look, please, don’t take any of this the wrong way. I-”
“I don’t take any of it the wrong way, Locke…”
“You’re a good friend, and-”
“I feel the same way, and yet-”
“It’s hard to put this right…”
“No, it isn’t. Look.” She grabbed him by the shoulders and bent down slightly to look right into his eyes. “You are a good friend, Locke. Probably the best I have. My loyal pezon. I am extremely fond of you, but not…as a possible husband. And I know that you-”
“I…ah…”
“Locke,” said Nazca, “I know that the only woman with the key to that peculiar heart of yours is a thousand miles away. And I know you’d rather be miserable over her than happy with anyone else.”
“Really?” Locke balled his fists. “Seems like it’s pretty common fucking knowledge. I bet the duke gets regular reports. Seems as though your father is the only person who doesn’t know.”
“Or doesn’t care.” Nazca raised her eyebrows. “Locke, it’s capa to pezon. It’s not personal. He gives the orders and you carry them out. In most cases.”
“But not this one? I thought you’d be happy. At least he’s making plans for the future again.”
“I said reasonable plans.” Nazca smiled-a real smile this time. “Come on, pezon. Play along for a few days. We can go through the motions and put our heads together to come up with a way out of this. It’s you and me we’re talking about, right? The old man can’t win, and he won’t even know he’s lost.”
“Right. If you say so.”
“Yes, I say so. Come back the day after tomorrow. We’ll scheme. We’ll slip this noose. Now go tend to your boys. And be careful.”
Locke stepped back out into the entrance hall, and Nazca pushed the doors shut behind him; he stared back at her as the space between the black doors narrowed, gradually sealing her off from view until they slammed shut with the click of tumbling locks. He could have sworn she winked just before the heavy black doors closed between them.
“…and this is the card you picked. The six of spires,” said Calo, holding up a card and displaying it for the entrance-hall guards.
“Fuck me,” said one of them, “that’s sorcery.”