The Masked City (The Invisible Library #2)(90)
Irene spread her arms wide. ‘Do I look as if I’ve got a dragon hidden anywhere?’
‘No,’ Zayanna said readily. ‘That’d be because he’s now being held further down the Train.’
Irene took a deep breath. ‘Well then,’ she said, and was surprised at how normal her voice sounded. Where was the utter stomach-churning, headache-inducing exasperation - no, fury - at yet one more obstacle in her way, one more damned interference by the damned Guantes? ‘I’ll just have to do something about that.’
Zayanna frowned. ‘Are you absolutely sure you should be telling me that, Clarice?’
‘Look at it this way,’ Irene said. Her hand sought the butt of the gun that was still somehow concealed in her soggy skirts. The gunpowder would be thoroughly soaked by now, but Zayanna didn’t know that. ‘Is it really in your best interests to get into a confrontation with an armed, dangerous, dragon-rescuing type like me? Seriously, Zayanna, I thought you were complaining earlier because you never managed to interact with heroes.’
‘I was complaining that I never got to seduce heroes, darling,’ Zayanna smiled. She twirled her hair again, her teeth gleaming and more than a little pointed. ‘But it’s very sweet that you were actually listening.’
‘Hand me over to the Guantes and you won’t even get that chance,’ Irene said, mentally resigning herself to a potential inconvenient seduction routine. Still, if Zayanna was anything like Silver, she’d probably get just as much out of Irene turning her down - as long as it was melodramatic enough. But first she had an escape to organize. ‘Is anyone in the next carriage?’
‘Atrox Ferox and Athanais,’ Zayanna said. She frowned. ‘Are we talking a serious seduction here? A really truly thing of passion?’
‘A sporting chance at one, if we get out of this alive,’ Irene said. She might be laying it on a bit thick, but Zayanna seemed to be buying it. But how far could she push the other woman? ‘Do you know if Atrox Ferox or Athanais have patrons who are inclined to stability, or to war with the dragons? And what of your own?’
‘The Lord Judge is Atrox Ferox’s patron, and he’s inclined to stability,’ Zayanna offered without hesitation. ‘So Atrox Ferox is here to report on events, rather than because of any alliance with the warmongering Guantes. No question, darling, the Lord Judge is one of those known quantities you can depend upon. But I don’t know about Athanais. Or his patron. If he has one.’
‘And what of yours?’ Irene pushed. She had no idea who the Lord Judge was, but his neutrality sounded encouraging.
Zayanna sighed and the droop of her shoulders looked entirely genuine. ‘Darling, he doesn’t care. That’s why he sent someone like me along, rather than one of the proxies he actually trusts. He’ll just end up going with the majority, as usual. Of course he doesn’t want me compromising his interests, so I don’t want to be caught doing anything I shouldn’t, but otherwise he couldn’t care less.’
Which meant no opportunity for Zayanna to advance … unless Irene offered her a chance to play a role. ‘From what you’re saying, he’s not interested in losers,’ she said casually. ‘If the Guantes should fail, then he wouldn’t want to know them - he’d deny ever even knowing them in the first place.’
‘Well, naturally,’ Zayanna said. Her eyes narrowed again. ‘Wouldn’t anyone?’
‘Right,’ Irene said, conscious of the enormity of the risk. But if it paid off, she’d actually have a chance. She hauled the wet gun out from her dripping skirts and offered it to Zayanna, butt-first. ‘I need your help, Zayanna. As my ally. As my friend. I want you to stand behind me and use my body to hide the gun while I’m talking. And if the talking doesn’t work, then I’m going to need you to threaten people with it.’ Perhaps a slight hint at emotional involvement might be a good idea. ‘Please?‘ she added hopefully, batting her eyelashes in what she hoped was an appealing fashion.
Zayanna’s eyes widened. ‘You want me to stand behind you with a loaded weapon?’
‘Yes,’ Irene said firmly.
‘Oh, darling.’ Zayanna threw herself against Irene, nestling her head against her chest and wrapping her arms around her, ignoring Irene’s wet rags. ‘Nobody’s ever said anything so romantic to me in all my life.’
Irene gently prised her off, somewhat inconvenienced by the gun in her hand. ‘Let’s do this,’ she said, mentally crossing her fingers that Zayanna was right about Atrox Ferox’s neutrality. He was, after all, the other one with a gun.
He and Athanais were standing in the corridor of the next carriage when Irene opened the door, and he immediately raised his gun. It looked futuristic, sleek and unnaturally large - though that might have been due to it being pointed at her.
She raised her hands above her shoulders, conscious of Zayanna right behind her. ‘Good evening, gentlemen,’ she said pleasantly.
‘Clarice.’ Atrox Ferox eyed her levelly, his dark eyes narrowed. ‘Or would some other name be more appropriate?’
Marvellous, I’m being typecast as a master spy in this story. I think I preferred being underestimated. ‘My real name is unimportant,’ she said, aiming for a note of authority. ‘What matters is why I’m here.’