"It's never going to happen," Emriana said firmly.
"Or, what if the Pharaboldis are somehow responsible for Jithelle's and Hoytir's deaths? Even if Denrick isn't in on it, once he finds out and mentions that you know about it, don't you think they'll consider you a threat to them? Whoever was responsible for these murders, they won't be afraid to kill again to keep their secrets intact. They tried it once already, today."
Her brother was looking at her with a dangerous glint in his eyes.
"You really think assassins would come after me?" Emriana asked, trying to sound off-handed, but more than a bit nervous. "They'd have a hard time getting in here, with all of Uncle Dregaul's security in place to keep me from getting out."
Vambran stopped pacing and turned to face his sister directly.
"Em," he said, "I know you're all grown up now, turning sixteen in a couple of days, but please listen to me on this." He reached forward and took his sister by the shoulders, forcing her to see his face. "You're not invincible; neither am I. Look what happened to me today, and I'm trained to expect it. There are people out there who are capable of a lot of unpleasant things, and you haven't been around them like I have. Even though Uncle Dregaul would probably prefer it, you can't hide in here your whole life. I'm just asking you to be careful. There's still so much we don't know."
Emriana smiled and leaned forward to hug her brother warmly.
"I know" she said, and held him tightly for a good long time, trying to let some of her worry for him melt away. Then she released him finally and sat back again. "I appreciate it. And I will. But you have to admit, it was a stroke of good fortune, my conversation with Patimi."
"Yes. That's true," Vambran said, pacing once more. "Though I had already heard about the plague story as of this morning, at least we now know who the victims are. I'm not sure where that gets us, though. Maybe we could find out more from the rest of the staff at the Pharaboldis', or from Jithelle's or Hoytir's families."
"Now who's talking about taking risks? How are you going to do that without being noticed by the Pharaboldis themselves?" Emriana sat straighter and reached out to grab Vambran by the hand to force him to stop pacing. "More important, why are we trying to figure all this out ourselves? What good is it doing us to stick our noses in this mess?"
Vambran gave his sister a look that she couldn't read. "Because it's the right thing to do, Em," he said softly. "Because no one else in Arrabar seems at all interested in seeking justice. 'They're just a couple of working class servants,' " he intoned. "Maybe they're even guilty, and everyone has been reading them wrong. But no one has been able to prove it, yet. I can't let that go. Not again."
There it was again, Emriana realized. Those strange comments her brother was making. What was he talking about? She started to open her mouth to ask him, when suddenly, it hit her. The accident! Aunt Xaphira's disappearance! It all made sense, and the realization made her gasp.
"What is it?" Vambran asked, concern in his eyes.
"N-Nothing," Emriana stammered, remembering her vow to keep quiet about the whole affair until the time was right. "Just remembering something Grandmother Hetta told me this morning at breakfast." And, on impulse she added, "About Aunt Xaphira, and an accident."
Vambran stood very still, staring hard at Emriana, his face losing its color.
"She told you about that?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Only that something happened," the girl replied, taking her brother's hand. "None of the details. She said the person involved would have to tell me in his own good time," she added pointedly.
Vambran spent so long just staring off into nothingness that Emriana began to worry that she had made a terrible mistake, mentioning her knowledge at all. The realization that it was her brother who had been involved had stunned her too, and she was still sifting through the emotional explosions in her head from that when he finally began to recount the story.
"I was twelve," Vambran began, "and it was the Night of Ghosts festival at the Generon. Adyan, Horial, and I were bored, so we decided to go take some target practice with a brand new crossbow Uncle Kovrim had given to me. We found a spot where we didn't think we'd bother anyone, but it was a stupid, stupid thing we did, because I shot someone."
He stopped there, taking several deep breaths and swallowing. Emriana squeezed her brother's hand reassuringly and nodded, urging him to continue.
"It was Lord Wianar's cousin Rodolpho. It was an accident, but everyone knew that Eles Wianar would bend it to his advantage any way he could. So Aunt Xaphira fixed it. She dressed up like an assassin, hid her face, and managed to get over the walls and out of the city with half the guardsmen in Arrabar chasing her. No one ever figured out the truth."
"Oh, Vambran, I'm sorry," Emriana said, her voice thick. "That must have been horrible for you! And Uncle Dregaul has held it against you ever since," she said, realizing then the origin of the animosity between Vambran and his uncle. "He blames you."
That thought made Emriana feel sick to her stomach. She realized for the first time that she truly hated her uncle.
"He has a right to. Every day since it happened, I've wondered how it must have felt for Rodolpho's family to wonder why someone would want to kill him. I've imagined the pain and hurt that not knowing the truth has caused them." Vambran blinked then and looked at his sister with determination. "I won't be a party to another covered-up killing. That's why I have to do this. I would hope that you would do it just because it's the right thing to do, but if you don't want to…"
He shrugged and began to pace once more. It was Emriana's turn to feel hurt.
"I never meant that," she said. "I want to do what's right, too, especially now that I know. I just want to make sure we're doing it for the right reasons, and in the right way. Uncle Dregaul isn't going to like us defying him, especially because of… because of what happened."
"I don't care what Uncle Dregaul thinks. I'm through cowering at his feet for my past crimes. I'm making amends, and this is my redemption."
"As long as you realize that he could be right. If by continuing to dig around, we hurt the family business, are we doing more damage than good?"
"Are you saying that preserving the 'business as usual' attitude of Uncle Dregaul is more important than bringing murderers to justice?"
Emriana stared steadily at Vambran.
"No," she said quietly. "I am saying that we should be subtle, in case we're completely wrong, so that we don't unduly hurt House Matrell. Grandmother Hetta is a proud woman, and she deserves that much from us."
Vambran stood quietly, considering for a moment, then he nodded and said, "That's reasonable and fair. All right, I'll make you a bargain."
"Name it," Emriana said, smiling again.
"I'll keep a low profile while I sniff out what's going on, if you'll promise to be careful and not take any unnecessary risks."
"Deal."
"Good. Now, I have something for you."
"You do?" Emriana said, getting excited.
"Yes. This was supposed to be your birthday present, and I guess it still is, but you're getting it a day early, after all."
Emriana couldn't help but smile in glee as Vambran reached into one of his traveling trunks, which had been brought to the estate from Lady's Favor by wagon earlier in the day, and pulled out a small pouch made of fine satin. He handed the thing to his sister.
"What is it?" the girl asked breathlessly, pulling open the drawstrings and dumping the item inside into the palm of her hand.
It was a pendant, she saw, a large opal, mostly gray with swirls of mauve, orange, and green, in a teardrop shape. The narrow end had a fine gold chain threaded through it. It took Emriana's breath away.
"Oh, it's beautiful!" she breathed, holding it up to let it shine in the light. She lunged at her brother and wrapped him in a big hug. "Thank you so much!" she gushed.