Chapter Six We Meet Again
Chapter Six
We Meet Again
Where Saeldian and Jubilee Have to Mingle
Kell hated to admit that Saeldian had been right about not needing a carriage.
The four of them strolled along with many happy people dressed with shiny coins hanging from their sleeves or shivering on their hems, and music spilled from the open doors and windows of parties all along the short walk to their destination.
The Tarm villa couldn’t have been more different from Righthoof Manor.
Its stone was smooth-faced and a little bit green, as were the carved grapes, goblets, and cheerful maidens crowned in wheat.
A few carriages waited to be admitted, but most people walked through the gates after being greeted by the guards.
Saeldian fell in behind one such group, twirled a lock of hair, and gave the gate guard a flirtatious smile.
Kell saw exactly when the enchantment clouded his thoughts.
The four of them stepped into the warmth of a party in full swing, laughter and talk rising in concert with musicians playing dancing music. Eight players?
Three steps more, and Kell nodded at being right. Two steps later, the lights in the ballroom dimmed, then flared brightly in the sconces next to the entrance.
People glanced in their direction as Saeldian walked into view as if flowers bloomed in response to their step. Tall and proud, with a stride that carried them across a room faster than the eye would assume, as if they were dancing already.
Kell had taught them to do that, but not the way Saeldian captured every eye as they regarded the crowded room, comfortable with the staring until someone pushed their way through and called, “Saer Brightleaf!”
Saeldian covered their surprise and headed toward the man who’d called out. Jubilee’s sigh ended on a curse. “Hells, it’s Venthar.”
“Friend of yours?”
“Long story. We’ve got to give him the brush-off.”
That was a mark, then. Kell knew it in his bones. “What’s our move?”
“I’ve got it handled. Scatter.”
Jubilee followed after Saeldian, ready to intervene.
“Scatter where?” Lorzok asked.
“Let’s go see the dancing master for partners,” Kell said. “Keep an eye out, though.”
Lorzok followed him to the dancing master, a dwarf who never stopped smiling. She nodded to them. “Lead, follow, or both?”
“We can do either.”
“Thank Tymora,” she said. “We’re short on leads. We’ve two who’ve been waiting a quarter hour. Everyone’s still dancing with their sweethearts, the night’s so young. You’re staying, right?”
But she was already leading Kell and Lorzok to partners, and soon Kell bowed to a white-haired woman whose brocade gown was decorated with a gentle sprinkling of real gold dragons, instead of the brass copies Kell and his party wore.
She bowed in return, and he escorted her to the floor to dance with Lorzok and his partner.
If only they were honestly here just to dance. The musicians knew their tunes, and they probably played together for hire all the time. His partner didn’t chat with him, but she never stopped smiling as she danced with a light grace, squeezing his hand when the song was done.
Saeldian was by the buffet. Jubilee had joined them. Venthar did his best to smile at being joined by a third wheel. The dancing master led him straight to a young man who smiled and said, “Will you teach me how to follow? I watched you with Franth, and I think you’re really good.”
“The key is to not let yourself anticipate, even when you know what you’re supposed to do next. First, I’ll be clumsy, because that’s when follows have to do the most work.”
The young man’s name was Candar, and Kell kept him laughing while teaching him to trust his partner, even through a mistake.
Lorzok was performing a dance with a small girl and boy, each looped in one of his arms, spinning and teetering so they squealed with delight.
He set them both down and bowed with perfect courtesy when the music stopped.
This was fun. This should be a pleasant way to spend time in the city. Instead—
Instead, someone was going to feel their stomach drop to the floor at the sight of an empty display case.
Lady Elezia would wonder who had presumed on her hospitality, who invaded her safety to steal from her.
Briona said the gem had been stolen and they were returning it, but it didn’t feel like a good deed.
Kell would have shrugged that off ten years ago. Stealing a stolen gem to return it to the owner was more justice than he would have needed or even noticed. And it was justice now.
He’d be home when this was done. Perhaps, when he was back in the Feywild, he could find a way to make it up to Lady Elezia.
But first, he would find out what happened to Essanderon’s Rest and its people.
He would find anyone who escaped. He would remember those who fell.
He would be home, but not without sadness at learning who passed.
The musicians stopped playing their dance tune for a breath before the horns blew a clarion, welcoming Lady Elezia Tarm.
Everyone stopped and applauded like a gentle spring rain.
Lady Elezia was tall as a ladder, and her every gesture demonstrated a great deal of strength to carry a full-skirted gown that glittered with golden coins, the music of their clinking telling everyone that they were real.
Coins dangled at the ends of beaded fringe made from citrines, shimmying as she clasped offered hands and returned friendly waves.
Her tower of meticulously dyed chestnut hair braced itself against a crown of coins, and she didn’t stop smiling as she swept along, wearing a fortune with studied elegance.
The music stopped as she reached the dais planted between the stairs. Flanked by replicas of the Honorable Knight and the Swordmaiden, Lady Elezia smiled graciously to all.
“Thank you all for coming. I hope the viewing exceeds your expectations, especially my newest acquisition, the Kiss of Enduring Love. Admire as you will, but take care not to step within reach of the art. Music, please!”
The musicians played again—a kind of soft layer cake of sounds that felt like a fond and aching memory. Golden dragons scraped against the waxed floor, the train of Lady Elezia’s gown trailing along as she climbed the right-hand stairwell.
Across the ballroom, Saeldian, Jubilee, and their unwanted third linked arms and joined the line to view the gallery. Saeldian didn’t look his way, and they didn’t signal needing help. Daring of them to go case the site with a stranger, but Saeldian had always had nerve.
The dancing master looked hopefully at Kell, and he smiled as he walked up to be matched with another stranger. “Thank you so much for this.”
“I’m glad I can help.”
“You’re amazing with beginners. Can I toss you to another one?”
“Couldn’t be happier.”
He smiled at the tall shy woman he’d been led to and coached her through the steps while she held tight to his hands. The four of them would ruin this party later. For now, the only thing he needed to do was dance.
Saeldian kept smiling at Venthar Dornan—damn Mephistopheles for bringing him to this party! He wouldn’t stop talking and wouldn’t go away. They waited on the stairs to the gallery where Elezia Tarm’s hoard rested, and Jubilee was doing most of the work of chattering.
“Have you ever attended one of Lady Tarm’s fêtes before?”
“Those are my secrets you’re poking at,” Saeldian teased. “I confess that I have never had the honor before, but a client—I can’t say who!—arranged invitations for Accurate and me.”
“What do you think of it?”
“It’s been modernized, but you can see the old bones beneath,” Jubilee said. “Do you see how all the old hearth fires have been covered over? You can see the chimneys when you come in, but all the walls are paneled over.”
“What an astute observation, Miss Accurate,” Venthar said. “Saer Helarel, what do you think?”
A bit overdone, but Saeldian wouldn’t say so. “It must be quite satisfying to live in such a beautiful place.”
“And with your very own collection of art! When you were last here, what was your favorite work of the collection?” Jubilee asked, cheerful and fizzy.
“The fairy ball,” Venthar answered. “It’s so vivid that you expect to puzzle over the brushwork as you come near, but it’s actually embroidered. I’m sure you’ll both like it.”
“That does sound lovely,” Saeldian said, though their eyes were glued to the dance floor. Kell had a new dancing partner. All around him, people watched and wanted to be next.
Kell would have probably been the best dancer in the room regardless, but in ten years, he’d gone from excellent to exquisite.
Kell moved like he could climb a glass wall without tools, like he could cross a wire strung between buildings as if it were a promenade not worth noticing.
Did anyone else see what Saeldian saw? Did they know mastery when it twirled among them?
Lorzok had been surprised at the idea of Kell singing, when Kell could entrance a listener by drawing them into the emotions of the lyrics.
Kell could sing fractious babies to sleep, move a room to tears, inspire them to bravery, set a listener’s skin to thrilling as if their lover serenaded them.
Kell never stopped being music; he even sang while he mended socks and had songs that he used to time the cooking of an egg.
But Lorzok didn’t know.
Saeldian took in the whole ballroom and tried to get Kell out of their thoughts.
This was a good party. Everyone’s happy smiles were natural, entertained—and entertained people didn’t notice unusual details.
The conversation didn’t drown out the music, which was lively enough to fill the dance floor.
And if everyone kept watching Kell dance, they couldn’t help it.
He was probably saying perfectly charming things to his partners, picking up exactly the right thread of conversation to pursue as the dance made him change to his second partner.