Clockwork Heart (9 page)

“Certainly you wouldn't in public, but you can't believe that exalteds never touch lower castes in private.”

“Well…” She blushed. Of course she knew that exalteds had personal lower-caste servants who saw them unmasked and helped them dress and do their hair, and she was sure that occasional cross-caste friendships and romances occurred. But those were special, necessary exceptions. “I've never touched an exalted before.”

“Liar.” His smile made the accusation playful. “My cousin told me she clung to you like a baby while you were falling.”

“That's not the same thing.” For that matter, she realized, Cristof had touched her to tend her wound. “I wasn't thinking about caste then,” she protested, and it was true of both occasions.

“But you are now. That's understandable, but won't you try to set your qualms aside for a few hours? I could have waited to talk to you at Viera's party, but I wanted to get to know you before then. It will be more comfortable to have a friend at the ball, don't you agree?”

Taya gave him a shy smile. “I think you could make anyone feel like a friend, Exalted.”

“Alister. Call me Alister, but feel free to flatter me all you want, because I adore it.” His green eyes twinkled. “Were you also taught that diplomats should flatter exalteds?”

“No! And I'm not a diplomat yet. I just took my exams a few weeks ago. I might not be accepted.”

“So, you're still waiting for the board to make up its mind. I detested waiting for my examination scores at the University. I detest ambiguity of any sort. That was another reason I wanted to have dinner with you tonight. Let the rest of Primus wonder what kind of person you are— I'll know first.” He sounded like a mischievous child, and Taya couldn't help but grin.

“Will that matter, Exa — Alister?”

“Only to me, but I'll take great satisfaction in it.” He cocked his head. “Why do you want to become a diplomat? It can be dangerous work, and you might be sent away from the city to work in a foreign embassy, if you're especially unfortunate.”

“No, that would be perfect! I'd love to see another country. Wouldn't it be wonderful to see Mareaux's vineyards, or a Demican bear hunt, or a Cabisi jungle?”

“I see. You're a true-born icarus, full of soaring dreams and aspirations.”

“Have you ever been out of Ondinium?”

“I'm not permitted. Programmers are required by law to spend their life in Ondinium, in order to keep the city's technological secrets intact.”

“Then you'll never leave?”

“I don't want to leave. I can enjoy wine, bearskins, and jungle fruit here. ‘All roads lead to Ondinium,' after all.” Humor lines crinkled around his eyes. “Now you'll think I'm boring and lose all interest in me.”

“No. I love Ondinium, too. But I'd like to see more of the world than wires and smog. I'd like to fly over an ice field or an ocean before I die.”

“You must have been a merchant or a soldier in your last life.”

“Or a bird. A lot of icarii think they used to be birds.” She took a sip of the wine, then set it back down. It tasted all right, but she'd feel more comfortable with plain ale — something she was used to drinking.

“If you were a bird in a past life, you would have been one of those little hunting hawks I see carried by Mareaux ambassadors,” Alister speculated. “Red-headed and neatly trimmed, agile and fierce.”

“Now who's being flattering?”

“Not at all, Taya Hawk.”

“I'm a hawk without my wings right now.”

“Just for tonight. I look forward to seeing you in your wings again the next time you come to Oporphyr Tower.”

Taya looked down, reminded of her flight suit. “I'm sorry about the suit… I don't have anything formal to wear to dinner.”

“Don't apologize. Remember, I belong to a caste in which everyone hides their bodies under layers of heavy robes.” Alister gestured to the glittering lapels stacked three-deep on his chest. “I'm enjoying the privilege of being able to ogle your legs without giving offense.”

Taya laughed again. Cassi would enjoy hearing that. “Traveling to the lower sectors must be a real thrill for you, then.”

“It would be if all the castes decided to adopt such form-hugging fashions. Perhaps the Council should make it a law.”

“Do you… do exalteds always dress like that, even in their own homes?” Taya looked with open curiosity at his clothes, deciding that after his jokes he could hardly protest if she stared. Not that he seemed like the kind of man who'd object to being admired. “Isn't it hard to get any work done?”

“We wear lighter, shorter robes at home. Just one or two, made out of softer fabrics with less decoration.” He tapped a flower spray embroidered across his top robe; small garnets picked out the shape of a bouquet of roses. “These are just for public, and we must be very careful when we choose them. One only purchases a public robe that has gemstones sewn across its rear once.”

“Sitting down in wings isn't much easier.”

“I see we both suffer for our caste.”

“What about your hair? Do you dress it when you're at home, too?”

He looked amused. “Not as elaborately. If I intend to spend all day inside, I simply pull it back.”

Taya nodded, imagining him in a light, open robe that would show off his well-built frame and dark copper skin, a curtain of black hair hanging loose over his shoulders. She felt a pleasant tingle. He was handsome in his exalted's jewels, but…

A smile played on his lips as he watched her, and she dragged her thoughts away, afraid he might see them in her eyes. She'd never been able to shake off all her famulate ideas about respectability.

“And what do
you
wear in private, Taya?” he asked, with a teasing smile on his lips.

“Nothing very exciting. Trousers and a tunic, most of the time,” she admitted, thinking for the first time that maybe Cassi was right and she dressed too plainly. “I was born on Tertius, so I'm used to wearing clothes for efficiency, not looks. But I'm having a dress made for the party,” she added, hastily.

“Good. You look charming in that suit, but I'll see more of you in a dress.”

“What will you wear?” she asked. “Your robes hide just as much as this suit.”

His green eyes gleamed.

“As much as I would enjoy showing off for you, I'd scandalize Caster if I arrived in anything other than formal attire. I'm afraid that if you want to see me in casual clothes, you'll have to accept a dinner invitation to my house.”

“I don't think I'd dare.” She felt a thrill, knowing that she was on dangerous ground.

“I could invite a friend to chaperone, if you insisted,” he said at once, pretending disappointment.

Taya was saved from answering by a knock on the door. At Alister's summons, the servant came in, bearing a platter of food. The dedicate had to make three trips from the antechamber before all the food was on the table. Taya wanted to leap up to help, but she forced herself to sit still, like someone accustomed to being served.

“Would you want anything else, Exalted?” the servant asked, bowing. The woman didn't take any special pains to avoid looking at Alister's bare face, although for the most part she kept her eyes downcast. Another concession to everyday practicality, Taya thought, like the abbreviated bows and salutes in Oporphyr Tower.

“No, that's all, thank you.”

She withdrew, closing the door again. Taya and Alister began to investigate the dishes, Alister recommending his favorites. Taya took a little of each. The food was fancier than anything she'd ever eaten on her own.

“Do you know who's going to be at the party?” she asked, between helpings.

“The decaturs will all be present, and their families. Some of Viera's and Caster's friends, of course, and the usual political allies who are invited to every Octavus party as a matter of form.” Alister listed a few people whose names she recognized from her diplomatic studies and the city papers.

“You said that Viera's your cousin… will any of the rest of your family be there?”

“Viera and my brother are all the family I have, and Cristof never comes to parties.”

“Because he's outcaste?”

“He's not, you know. Outcaste. He's chosen to live outside of his caste, but he's never been legally turned away.”

“Then he could come to the party.”

“He could, if he wanted. But he hated parties even before he left Primus. Cris never mastered the social graces, and now he's something of a scandal. Viera and I invite him up regularly — he's family, after all — but he almost always declines.”

“Maybe he's trying not to embarrass you,” Taya said, remembering what Cristof had said earlier that day.

“He doesn't embarrass me. I love him. I wish he would realize that.”

“Does he get along with Exalted Octavus?”

“With Viera, yes. Our parents… our parents died when we were young, and Viera's family took us in. We're more like brothers and sister than cousins. But Caster's a traditionalist. He doesn't approve of Cristof breaking the rules of his caste, and even Vee's a little worried that he'll give Ariq strange ideas. It won't be long before Ariq's seven, and then he'll have to start wearing a mask, himself. It wouldn't do for him to think that Cristof's behavior is normal.”

“You don't think your brother's normal?”

“My brother is anything but normal.” Alister laughed. “Don't get me wrong, little hawk. He's not insane. But it isn't normal for an exalted to cut his hair and take off his mask and move down to Tertius to live with the plebs.” He sobered. “Cris has a bad temper. It's better for all of us that he went to live someplace where he can surround himself with machines instead of people.

“Why — why did he leave?”

Alister shook his head.

“I wish I knew. I think every exalted has daydreamed about throwing away the mask at one time or another. Caste restrictions can become tiresome. I'd love to go flying on a pair of metal wings without worrying that my bare skin might be seen by a stranger. Maybe you'll take me, someday? But Cristof's the only exalted I know who has ever acted upon the dream. Lady, the uproar he caused! I couldn't believe it, the day he cut off his hair— he hacked it short with a pair of scissors, all by himself. It was horrible.”

Taya tried to put herself in Alister's place, to feel his shock, but there wasn't anything comparable in icarus life. Icarii were free to wear whatever they wanted, to style their hair any way they wanted, to do whatever they wanted— as long as they carried out their duties.

“My brother set up a small shop in Tertius, buried in a basement where nobody can find it. I don't know why he hides down there— maybe he's ashamed of himself, after all. He could have made himself a celebrity. I would have, if I had been in his place. I would have traded on my castemark and the scandal and made myself the darling of the gossip columns and fashionable salons. But Cristof keeps to himself, and most of the city doesn't even know that one of our caste has defected.”

“I think I feel sorry for him,” Taya said, at last. “It's awful, never fitting in.”

“You have a kind heart.” Alister's voice gentled. “Especially considering how he scolded you. He wasn't very polite to a weary icarus who had just saved his cousin's life.”

“He wasn't so bad, later. I mean, he's not nice,” Taya elaborated, “but I think he's well-mannered, behind that sharp tongue of his.”

“I should hope he is. When did you meet him again?”

Taya related the story of the attack the night before, but she didn't tell him that she'd returned to the clockwright's shop that afternoon to accuse Cristof of being a bomber. Alister's brother had enough problems without her casting any suspicion on him.

“I'm surprised he helped you,” Alister said, when she was through. He sounded puzzled. “Cris is such a gearhead… it's hard to imagine that he'd have the stomach to shoot a mugger. And where did he ever get an air pistol? But I suppose he's had to grow bolder, living on Tertius.”

“It can be a dangerous place,” Taya agreed.

“And you should be more careful when you go down there, too.” Alister leaned forward to touch the back of her hand, looking at the scabs across her knuckles. “I'll add my voice to his in insisting the lictate investigate the mugging. Lately, they've been more concerned with hunting down terrorists like the Torn Cards, but attacking an icarus is a serious crime, too. And who knows; the two crimes could be linked. The king of Alzana has a number of spies funneling money to Ondinium's radical elements, hoping to unbalance the Council. He'd love to possess one of our armatures.”

“Your brother doesn't trust Alzana, either.” Taya realized Alister's fingers were still resting on the back of her hand.
Lady, he really is flirting with me
, she thought, torn between pleasure and panic.

“We both lost a dear friend to Alzana's conflict with Ondinium.” Alister sighed. “But let's not talk about unpleasant matters. Tell me about your family.”

Taya allowed him to change the subject, and their conversation wove back and forth as they ate, touching on families and friends, favorite foods and books. A loud knock on the door startled them both.

“The coach is here, Exalted,” the servant announced, without opening the door.

Alister slipped a watch from a hidden pocket inside his sleeve and opened it.

“Forgefire, I should have told him to come back in three hours,” he muttered. He raised his voice. “Buy him a drink and tell him Taya will be out in a few minutes.”

“Yes, Exalted.”

“I'm sorry,” Alister apologized. “We haven't even had an after-dinner drink yet.”