The Smoke-Scented Girl (13 page)

It was full dark when they reached the city,
worn out and soaked through, and even Piercy was happy to stop at
the first inn they passed. Evon took one look at Miss Haylter’s
face when he helped her down from the horse and all thoughts of
research fled. “A room with a bath for my sister,” he told the man
at the desk, “and another room for my friend and me.” He removed
his hat and a thin trickle of water poured over the brim and onto
the black and white diamonds tiling the entry hall, mingling with
the brown sludgy water he’d tracked in from the yard. The desk
clerk’s expression was clearly visible in the light from hundreds
of walnut-sized orbs decorating the wrought-iron lamp that hung
from the ceiling, two stories tall. Evon stiffened his spine and
glared coldly back. As if the kind of patrons this man was
accustomed to never were caught in the snow or had to trudge
through the yard muck...all right, they probably had minions to do
their trudging for them, but they were as human as anyone else, and
Evon’s money was just as good. Well. Miss Elltis’s money was just
as good.

Finally, the man extended a hand holding two
keys, Evon brushed aside the offer of help with their bags—that
probably did look strange, two canvas sacks and a small bag between
the three of them—and they trudged up two flights of stairs to what
turned out to be a suite of two bedrooms and a conjoined bath. It
took Evon only a little persuading to get Miss Haylter to make use
of the facilities; her lips were outlined in purple and the circles
under her eyes were darker than before. While she bathed, Evon and
Piercy changed into drier clothes and consulted. “I’ll need to tell
my superiors all about this, dear fellow,” Piercy said.

“Why do you sound so apologetic?”

“Because—” Piercy dropped his voice to a
whisper, though their door to the bathroom was closed—“this changes
everything. My people were operating on the assumption that we were
looking for a magician casting a spell. Now the magician is nowhere
to be seen and the spell itself may be aware, which I don’t mind
telling you is going to be hard for the old boys at the home office
to believe. They are certainly not going to be happy with the idea
that Miss Haylter is not at all to blame.”

“She isn’t.”

“That’s a subtlety that may be lost on
them.”

“Then you’ll have to convince them
otherwise.”

“I’ll do my best, dear fellow, but you should
be prepared for them to arrive here and attempt to take over your
investigative efforts.”

“They can’t take her back to Matra. It’s far
too dangerous.”

“Another subtlety that may etc., etc. I
intend to present my findings in the most salubrious fashion I can
muster, and I intend to do it tomorrow. Do you suppose she’s used
all the hot water? I did rather fancy a soak myself.”

“I don’t know. I’m going to go cast a few
forbiddances on her windows and the door, just in case Odelia is an
exceptional tracker. I’m not looking forward to tackling Miss
Elltis tomorrow, either.”

He knocked loudly at Miss Haylter’s hall
door, then slipped inside and shut it behind him. The bathroom door
on this side was half-open. “Miss Haylter?” he said, keeping his
eyes averted. “I’m just putting some protective spells on the
windows and door.” There were two windows, neither of them tall
enough to admit anyone larger than a child, but he took out his
chalk, slightly damp from the journey, and began tracing copper
runes on the sill and the glass panes. The dim light from a single
lamp near the bed cast up his reflection in the dark window.

Water sloshed. “Are they to keep intruders
out,” Miss Haylter asked, “or me in?”

“You’re not a prisoner, Miss Haylter,” Evon
said. He breathed out a command word, and the runes turned black
and then vanished. He went to the next window and began to repeat
the process.

“I was joking,” she said. “I realize it’s
hard to tell.”

“If I were in your position, I’m not sure I’d
have much of a sense of humor left.” One rune failed to blacken,
and Evon scrubbed everything out and started over again.

“It surprised me, too.” More water sloshed,
the sound of someone stepping out of the tub. He fumbled the chalk
and rubbed at the flawed rune irritably. “I really do appreciate
what you’re doing, Mr. Lorantis.”

“I haven’t exactly done anything warranting
your appreciation, Miss Haylter.”

Water began gurgling down the drain. “You
didn’t burn,” she said. “You didn’t see me as a monster. Who are
you, that you weren’t even a little afraid of me?”

“I didn’t think to be afraid.” The runes
blackened and vanished, and Evon crossed to the door. Miss Haylter
emerged from the bathroom and closed its door behind her. She was
fully dressed in her spare gown, a dark striped woolen thing that
was too loose in the bosom and too long at the hem, and her dark
gold hair hung nearly to her waist. Her poreless skin made her look
unreal, like a woman wearing her own skin as a mask, but in the dim
light the effect was lessened, and Evon thought she might be the
most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He closed his fingers tight on
the chalk, its damp grittiness anchoring him to the here and
now.

“I realize it’s informal,” he said, “but if
you’re meant to be my sister, we should really call one another by
our given names. If you don’t mind.”

She tilted her head just a little. “It makes
sense,” she said. “I mean, it’s not as though you haven’t seen me
naked.”

Evon blushed so hard he thought his head
might pop open, and she smiled, her eyes merry at how she’d
discomfited him. “I didn’t look,” he stammered, and felt like more
of a fool for saying anything.

“I wouldn’t have mentioned it if you had.
Thanks for being a gentleman...brother Evon.”

“Thank you for still having a sense of humor,
sister Kerensa. Even if it
is
at my expense. I’m going to
seal this door now. If you need to exit, you’ll have to come
through our room.”

He took his time scrawling runes across the
door, the frame, and the threshold. No one would pass through this
door without his knowing about it.
Especially Odelia
, he
thought, putting a few extra flourishes around the knob. Probably
Odelia was still scrambling to catch up, but if she came anywhere
near Kerensa, she’d have more than a simple paralysis to deal with.
He muttered a handful of command words, then pulled out his
quizzing glass and used
epiria
to check his work. Tight and
tightly bound, and he felt no small measure of pride at his
accomplishment.

They ate supper together in the inn’s large
dining room, speaking rarely, even the normally talkative Piercy
worn out from the day’s travels, then retired to their beds. Evon
watched the bathroom door close on Kerensa and, around a
jaw-cracking yawn, said, “I really wonder what she makes of all
this.”

“She’s certainly not what I expected to find
at the end of our chase,” Piercy said, unbuttoning his waistcoat.
“Astonishingly attractive, for one, though I don’t think she
appreciates being told as much.”

“Maybe you’ve finally found the one woman
immune to the Faranter charm,” Evon said. The idea made him
cheerful. It would do Piercy good not to have
every
woman in
the world fall at his feet.

“Unlikely. I simply haven’t found the way to
this one’s heart yet.”

“Don’t toy with her, Piercy.”

Piercy looked surprised. “I never toy with
women, Evon, you know that. And this one...she’s pretty enough, but
there’s something about her I don’t dare touch. I’ll leave her to
you.”

Evon turned away to remove his shirt so his
friend wouldn’t see how his face had reddened. “I’m afraid there’s
a conflict of interest there, what with me more or less using her
as a research subject. Unfortunate for both you and me, then.” He
had a sudden image of Kerensa standing inside the bathroom, her ear
pressed to the door, and wondered if he could cast a spell to make
the floor open up beneath him. Dropping him into someone else’s
bed. What a solution.

“When we get home, you should ask Vansie
Aldenter to attend the theater with you,” Piercy said, flopping
down onto his pillow. “She’s been asking after you for weeks.”

“I should do that,” Evon agreed, pulling the
covers over his chest, but as he tried to remember which of
Piercy’s many lady friends Miss Aldenter was, the only image that
came to mind was the too-smooth oval of Kerensa Haylter’s face.

“You’ll want to make yourself scarce while I
talk to the authorities back home, dear fellow,” Piercy said over
breakfast the next morning. “I don’t dare use the public
communication network for a thing like this.”

“I thought Miss— I might take
my
sister
shopping for a new dress,” Evon said. He laid his napkin
down and squared his knife and fork across his plate. “What with
our luggage mishap and all.”

“Oh,” Piercy said. “Of course.
Miss...Lorantis shouldn’t have to wear that old thing forever.”

“You shouldn’t worry about my clothes,
brother
,” Kerensa said, glaring at Evon. “I don’t want to be
a burden on your pocketbook. This dress is just fine.”

“No one will believe I let my
sister
go out in public in a dress that clearly wasn’t made for her.”

“I didn’t think I’d be going out in public
much, since I’ll be assisting you with your studies.”

“That won’t last forever, will it?” He stood
and offered her his hand. “Shall we go?”

“I may not be here when you return,” Piercy
said, pushing his chair back from the table. “I intend to make a
tour of this fair city and ascertain that our dear friends won’t
come upon us unawares. Good luck in your studies, Evon.
Miss...Lorantis.” He bowed to Kerensa and left the dining room.

“I was serious about you not spending money
on me,” Kerensa said under her breath as she wrapped her cloak
around herself. “I don’t want a new dress.”

“And I was serious about you not looking much
like my sister in that thing,” Evon retorted in the same tone. “I
would think you’d be happy to be rid of it. It doesn’t look
comfortable, what with it dragging at the hem like that.”

They exited the inn, Kerensa holding her
skirts high to keep them clear of the mud of the inn yard. The air
was clear and cold and smelled of new snow and salt brine and, to
Evon, of Kerensa’s smoky scent. Across the street from the inn,
half-timbered shops did a busy trade in housewares, tobacco, books,
and spices, and the jingling three-toned sound of an apothecary’s
bell rang out constantly. The inn stood at the top of a gentle
slope, and to the west Evon could just barely see the ocean,
gray-green in the winter sunlight. He offered Kerensa his arm, and
after a moment’s fumbling with her heavy skirts, she accepted it
and they crossed the street, dodging carriages and a horsewoman who
sneered down at them.

They walked down the street in silence for a
while, Evon looking at the shops, Kerensa looking at the ground,
until Kerensa said, “I’d rather not spend money on something
that’ll probably just be destroyed.”

Evon glanced at her. The curve of her cheek
was all that was visible of her face. She had left her kerchief
behind, saying that it made her look too much the country girl to
be seen walking around with Evon in his frock coat and top hat, and
her dark blonde hair was pinned neatly at the base of her neck.
She’d need a bonnet, too, he reflected, though it seemed a shame to
cover up that hair. Her voice was back to being toneless and dull.
Without thinking, he said, “You could always take it off before you
go.”

Her head snapped up. “What?”

“It would save on having to buy new clothing
all the time. And it’s not as if you’d have to worry about what the
person thinks of you.” His mouth was operating independently of his
brain, which was screaming at him to
shut up, what are you
thinking, you’re insulting her and you need her to trust you
.
Kerensa’s eyes were wide and her mouth hung slightly open. Evon
smiled at her; he was sure his smile looked insane.

Then she laughed. It was such an unexpected
sound, warm and rich and deeply amused, that Evon stopped in the
middle of the street and gaped at her, releasing her arm. “Take it
off,” she said. “I can’t believe you just said that to me.”

“I apologize—I don’t know what I was
thinking—”

“I’m not used to this, having someone else
share this secret. You don’t see it the way I do.”

“I assure you, I didn’t mean—”

“That wasn’t a criticism. You genuinely
believe this...curse isn’t a part of me. That it’s something I can
be rid of. All I’ve known since this started is despair and
self-loathing because I thought it was something I was doing. I’m
tired of that feeling. I wish I could see things through your
eyes.”

“Even if I suggest that you engage in public
nudity?” A passerby gave them both an astonished, embarrassed
glare.

“You made me laugh. I can’t remember the last
time I laughed at something funny.” She took his arm again and
squeezed it in a companionable way. “All right. But I’m paying for
my own dress.”

“No, Miss Elltis’s expense account is paying
for your dress.” They proceeded arm in arm up the street, Kerensa’s
hem dragging in the mud once again.

“Who is Miss Elltis? You talk about her as if
she’s something between a dread maiden aunt and a dragon.”

“That is fairly accurate, though I do have a
dread maiden aunt who is not nearly so terrifying as Miss Elltis.
She is my employer, though technically she’s just the senior member
of my cooperative. I had to have her approval to take on this quest
to find you.”

“You make it sound like you’re Alvor looking
for the Dirn-Hound. I’m not sure that’s very flattering to me.”

“I don’t know that story.”