22. 21
“Your mother is the Leader of Wisdom?” I asked.
Davian, this mysterious devotee of Pain, was the son of one of the most well-respected and longest-serving Leaders in Dytho. He was marked by two Gods. How rare was that? Was he the only one?
I took one step, and nearly lost my balance. He should have told me, I thought, as his eyes widened and he limped down the step to come to my aid. I recovered, holding my hand up to tell him to stop. I just needed a second. One second.
“Yes,” he said, instead, finally having the gall to look guilty. “She also has terribly good hearing and eyes in the back of her head, so keep your voice down.”
My eyes narrowed at his levity, but I dropped my voice to a whisper. “You’re Ravi.”
He flinched. “I prefer Davian. Ravi is the boy I left behind.”
Davian offered me his hand, reaching down.
I stared at it, and then up at the man I barely knew.
He hadn’t lied to me, he had been clear enough about not wishing to speak of his upbringing.
And yet it felt distinctly unfair that he had learnt about my past behind my back without my permission, but I was not allowed to know his until it was sprung upon me.
It made sense now, the need for the ring. It was customary in Aralaj that after an engagement, the parents of each party must invite the other family in for tea. To turn me away on the doorstep, after Davian had implied I was to be his wife, would have been incredibly rude.
He still could have said something.
“Next time, you tell me before,” I said. He started to speak but I held up a finger. “No. If you want me to help you, you can’t keep me in the dark. You can’t pry into all of my secrets and offer me nothing in return. I could have prepared, if you had told me.”
He waited until I was finished, his palm still waiting. “I was going to say yes. You’re right.” I blinked as he encouraged me forwards with a curl of his fingers. “Please, my mother doesn’t like to be kept waiting. And I need you to get me through this.”
I thought about it for all of a second. This was probably yet another reason why I should have listened to Jusia and never got involved with Davian in the first place.
But then I looked at him, and I could see how much he wanted to run, and how nervous he had been in the carriage.
He hated being here. I couldn’t make him go in alone.
I joined him at the top step, and placed my hand in his.
Our eyes met. He didn’t smile, but he squeezed my hand.
Something changed between us. It was hard to know exactly what, but a stone had fallen into place.
Or rather, a stone had come loose, tumbling from a dam.
What followed from now would be hard to stop, and I struggled to remember a single good reason for staying away from him.
Davian pushed through the curtain, and then we were in.
Theolis stood six feet into the wood-panelled corridor, staring at a portrait across from her with a glassy-eyed stare, as if she wasn’t really looking at it.
As soon as we were inside, she moved, blinking back into action and leading us up the stairs along the left hand side of the corridor.
She had said nothing, and yet both of us knew she wanted us to follow.
The interior of this House was far cosier than that of Pain or Love. This felt less of a place of business and far more of a place for people to live and study.
I could tell it had been swept and mopped for this party, but there was still the mess of life peeking through the cracks.
Plants were unruly, clutter and nicknacks were stacked on the bookshelves, oily marks from fingers stained the walls, and a pile of scarves sat in a poorly woven basket by the door.
This was a home. Davian’s childhood home.
Davian led us after Theolis. The ball must have been further down the corridor, from the chatter and laughter that rumbled around the house, and the butler’s hurried re-entry from that part of the house. As we passed, my gaze caught on the portrait Theolis had been staring at.
It was of an attractive man in his thirties or forties, sitting for the picture with a ferret on one shoulder and military regalia.
He was not Aralaji. He had sideburns, a moustache, and all the hallmarks of Craeteran nobility.
But this was no devotee of Wisdom. Paintings of devotees always presented their mark in some way, either representing how it was in person, or the symbol painted over the clothing. There was no mark displayed here.
“My father,” Davian said quietly, without looking.
We climbed the stairs in silence. Theolis did not make chatter with us, and I had a feeling Davian’s warning about her hearing was to be taken sincerely. This was not the time to ask about his father, or the woman’s late husband.
I tried to find calmer waters. Imagining Davian as a child here was hard to do.
But more interestingly, he had lived here and then he had been chosen.
Marks were far from hereditary gifts. In fact, it was quite uncommon for the Gods to bless the same family twice.
It didn’t slip my memory that it had happened with Seera, too. “When did Wisdom choose you?”
Davian stared at his feet as we climbed. “I was thirteen.”
“How?” I asked in the next breath. “People study for a decade.”
“I was taught by the best.” The bitterness in his voice faded, and then he spoke as if by rote. “Besides, she values more than intellect. Wisdom is often misinterpreted. Understanding is more about perception and restraint, than it is about facts.”
I let that sit in the air, the way he had said that conjuring an image of a younger Davian, studying at a desk. But then, if the Goddess Knessus chose based on some worldly understanding, how had he come by that level of awareness so young?
At the top of the stairs, Theolis pushed open the door right ahead, and waited in its entrance. Davian dropped my hand to take the lead, and I felt the loss of his support immediately.
We followed the unspoken instructions and entered the room.
A woman straightened from positioning some teacups in very exact positions on a table. She was perhaps thirty-five, with frown lines and a shadow of a bruise by her jaw. She noticed Davian, and blinked several times. “Ravi.”
“Greta,” Theolis said, and the name was a warning. “Go fetch our guests from the Sea. Have them wait outside until I call upon them.”
Greta nodded, took off her apron and folded it into her pocket. “Of course, mistress.”
“Nice to see you, Greta,” Davian said, as the maid passed.
Greta flashed him the smallest of smiles when Theolis wasn’t looking, and then disappeared through a door.
The room was modestly sized but well presented, with two areas for seating and entertaining guests.
An archway partially obscured behind a pale, gauzy fabric led to a space stocked with all kinds of wines and other liqueurs.
Every other vertical surface, other than that covered by a large rectangular mirror, was covered with bookshelves.
The mirror—taller than even Davian—sat across from the set table.
The tea was laid for three, and ready now, with steam curling from the spout into the rose-scented room.
We were not invited to be seated. As soon as Greta closed the door with a soft click, Theolis turned to Davian. “I had to invite you and your bride in, and I have done so.”
Davian nodded.
“Why have you come here?” she asked.
“Direct, as always,” Davian replied. He reached into a pocket sewn into the inside of his coat, and took out a pouch. He shook it, and a low clinking noise sounded. “I have your money.”
Theolis reddened. I watched her keenly, and it wasn’t as full as my blushes were, but it was there nonetheless. “You know we cannot return the coin,” she said.
“We ask only the same price as you,” Davian replied. It was a call and response, words that were always said during these kinds of trades. Spoken without inflection.
Theolis glanced at me, as if remembering my presence, then looked back to her estranged son. “What do you want me to ask?”
Davian opened the pouch and took out two gold pieces. “Ask the House of the Sea about the missing girl.”
Theolis’ eyes narrowed. “This is about Seera. You think they are connected.”
I was impressed how quickly she had found the core of the issue. Even for a woman commended for her Wisdom, Davian said he had been gone for years. What did Theolis know of their marriage, their relationship? Her life, let alone her death?
“The girl’s name was Saskia.” Davian breezed on as if she hadn’t spoken. “She is likely dead, but her body hasn’t shown up.”
Theolis nodded. They both seemed more comfortable when they were latched onto a topic. “I’ve heard about the girl. The Sea have been in mourning for her.”
“We want to know what they know.” Davian held his hand out, the two gold waiting in his palm. “We want names of who they believe took her.”
“Fine,” she said. “What else?”
“Do you know where the God of Fire is?”
Surprise caught the edge of her mouth like a hook dragging a fish. “Why?”
Davian only raised his eyebrow. I suspected she wasn’t supposed to enquire about the ‘why’.
Theolis tutted. “I do not know where he is. It is in Knessus’ interest that the God’s name is all but forgotten.”
That tracked well with how little I had uncovered in the library.
Davian nodded. “All the same, I would ask that you see if the House of the Sea knows anything. Then you may ask whatever other questions you want.”
“How generous of you,” Theolis said, taking the coins nonetheless and placing them into her own coin purse secured to her wrist. She flicked her head towards me, not even looking that time. “Will you explain what she’s doing here? I assume she is not actually your intended.”
Davian touched his hand to the small of my back as I tried not to bristle. She was right, but why did she suspect that? Did she not approve? “Annie is helping me investigate.”
Theolis tightened her mouth. “Is she a sunner?”
“Fuck no.”
“So you’re doing this outside the law.”
Davian’s hand splayed against my back, and I saw his shoulders tense. “The law still has me as suspect number one. Despite the Oath.”
“I heard of that.” Theolis looked over her shoulder at the tea. She sniffed and then looked at Davian’s feet. “Are you—They didn’t charge you.”
“No.”
Theolis nodded. She opened her mouth as if she might say something else, and then there was a soft knock at the door.
“The Sea is here,” Theolis spoke, not quite a whisper but low enough to be audible to only us. She pointed towards the mirror. “You may listen in from here to see our bargain is true.”
Davian rolled his eyes, and I figured this was another of the phrases he had heard many times. “I know where to stand.”
His mother’s eyes flashed, and the look was so familiar that the resemblance between the two was striking. But her voice was as low and calm as before. “Some things have changed since you left.”
“Have they?” Davian replied, and his free hand clenched into a fist. “How was Greta’s wedding?”
Theolis recoiled as if slapped.
Davian might have even looked guilty, but then another knock sounded, and she shooed us away.
With his hand still at my back, he steered me towards the mirror.
He paused beside it, deftly flicking a piece of brass, which just looked like part of the framing to me.
But then the mirror was opening towards us like a door, and Davian was encouraging me in.
On the other side was a small room, with two dining chairs and little else. A former closet, I expected. I took a seat and tried to process everything I had just heard, as Davian pulled the mirror firmly closed behind us, and sat next to me.
It wasn’t until he was out of the way that I realised we had a perfect view into the room. Through the mirror, I could see the teapot, still steaming, and the perfectly arranged china on the table.
“Come in.”
We heard the chatter of murmured greetings, and then they were here.
The three of them took a seat; two members of the House of the Sea, obvious from the marks on their arms if not for their seafoam and blue outfits, and Theolis.
Sitting right there, pouring tea, with no idea we were sitting less than ten feet from them, and hearing every word.