House of Sand and Secrets (Books of Oreyn #2)(64)

I am moved to tell the truth. “The Lammers fear the vampires; they fear what their freedom would mean.”

Yew steps closer to me, and I can smell poisonink on his clothes, and the bittersweet of wood fires and windle silk. “I see no reason why we would ever fear them.”

“You fear their city. You fear them in numbers.” I know I should stop talking. The vampire city of Ur lies many hundreds of leagues in the distance, in the Wyvernsback mountains. No one I know has ever seen it. The city of the vampires is as shrouded in mystery and exaggeration as any myth.

Jannik coughs. This is where his family came from, and even he does not speak of it. My heart is beating too fast. I do not know the game Yew is playing, what he wants to hear from me.

“I am not scared of a city that may or may not exist,” Yew says. “But I wonder if there isn’t something to it. Fear, after all, is what drives our little MallenIve cogs. Fear and money and scriv.”

“I will pass your papers on to Garret,” Carien says, though Yew ignores her pointed signal for him to leave.

“Tell me,” Yew says as he steps back from me, broadening the distance between us, “do you not think the city will be safer if the bats are removed from the Lammer areas? And do you not think they will be happier if they were given the freedom of a reservation – a place where they can hunt and kill as their forefathers did? Surely you can see the benefits to Garret’s scheme – for all of us?”

I curl and uncurl my fingers, hidden behind the folds of my wide skirts. “I see nothing.”

“And here I thought that you were supposed to be that rare creature; a woman of vision.” He grins again, making a joke of his words. “And now, I really must leave you ladies to the things that fascinate you so. What is it today – gossip or culture?”

“Both.” Carien’s smile is brittle and annoyed.

“I’ve outstayed my welcome, from the looks of things.” He doesn’t seem the least perturbed by his own ill manners. He laughs at us, at how easily upset we are by his intrusion. “Tell Garret if there’s anything else he needs–”

“Yes,” says Carien. She is herding Yew toward the door.

He smiles at her manoeuvres, and lets himself be guided out. “It was a pleasure to have finally met you,” he says to me. “And you.” He gives Jannik a wide grin that is lazy and predatory, like a sphynx biding its time before it begins a hunt.

“Dreadful man,” Carien says, after the servants have taken him from her and led him out, and the clatter of the coach wheels against the gravel has faded. She, like Yew before her, is not looking at me.

Jannik stays very still, his head raised, and stares back. I can just see the faint white edges of his third eyelids, threatening to sweep across and blank all expression from his face, but he does not let it happen. He watches her undisguised, his night-sky eyes challenging her forest-green ones.

“I’m so glad you chose to come,” she says.

Jannik and I both smile – small secret smiles that are gone as soon as thought. “It was my pleasure,” he says.

I am about to take my leave of them both, when Carien stops me, resting one hand lightly against my wrist. “I received an invitation,” she says.

I raise one brow, waiting. My stomach is churning, I had not expected a meeting with Yew, and that on top of my plan to abandon Jannik to this house is making me ill. I press on hand lightly against my stomach, as if I could knead the bubble of anxiety away.

“I wondered if you knew anything about it.”

“What kind of invitation?” I pretend confusion so easily. Even were Carien higher than a Hob-kite, I do not think she would be able to unspin the truth. My lies have become part of me.

“From House Guyin, requesting that Garret and I join them at dinner.”

“How odd.” I frown. “I had heard nothing of this.”

“But you speak with them?” She presses on, her fingers clutching now, the little daggers of her nails tearing at me through her silk gloves. She talks of Harun and Isidro as if they were still together; perhaps she truly does not know anything of what has happened. I feel some of my confidence in this scheme falter. “You are the only ones who have.”

“Perhaps it is to do with Garret’s proposal,” I say.

Carien drops her hand, releasing me. “Ah. Guyin should know that there is nothing he can say that will bend my husband on this. He is adamant.”

I press my lips together, and breathe in once, sharply. “Guyin has more to lose. Desperate men can be persuasive.”

“Desperate men can be dangerous.”

“That too.” I step out of her reach. “Will you go, then?” I ask it lightly, as if it barely matters. “After all, they’re hardly acceptable table mates.”

Carien keeps her head still, looking through me, past my layers of lies. “It’s not up to me,” she says. “You know that.”

“Of course.” I dip my head. “Let me know when you’re done with him.” It is with a great strength of will I do not look to Jannik, wish him well, wish him goodbye.

On the way back to Harun, I stop at one of the few legal scriv merchants, and in that dusty place, sharp with the smell of magic, I buy myself a tiny pouch of scriven and pretend that little skip of my heart was fear and not want.