The Sword-Edged blonde (33 page)

She turned my face toward her. “No. Not what you did. And what you’re still doing. I know you could tell me who I really am. Or I should say, who I used to be. No, don’t bother to deny it. But you won’t. Because it would do too much damage, wouldn’t it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Really.”

She gazed into my eyes for a long moment, then released my chin and looked away. “I suppose you’ll be leaving soon,” she said sadly.

“Yeah.”

“You don’t have to, you know. Your castle and lands are still there. Philip rents them out occasionally, but he’s never officially confiscated them to the crown. Even if he had, all you’d have to do is ask.”

“Arentia ain’t my home anymore.
Isn’t
my home anymore. See? I can’t even speak good no more. I’d just embarrass all of us.”

She laughed. “Just so you know the drawbridge is always down for you.” She leaned close and gave me a quick kiss, on the lips, which lingered just an instant too long to be fully chaste. She smelled of clover and sunlit meadows. Then she drifted back toward the great hall, leaving me alone once again.

S
o I went back to Neceda, not much richer but a fair bit wiser. The mud had disappeared during my absence, and the town was back to its mean, rapacious little self. I’d found a small bag of gold, each piece embossed with Phil’s stern profile, hidden in my saddlebags. It wasn’t enough to be considered a reward, because he knew I’d never accept it, but it did cover my expenses, which was fair enough.

The first thing I did was arrange a meeting with King Felix’s elderly emissary. On a bright morning two months after my return, the old man again sat across from me and regarded me with his tired, defeated eyes. He was dusty, and sagged in his chair as if he’d ridden all night. “Dead?” he repeated flatly. “You’re absolutely certain?”

I nodded. “I’m sorry. Pass on my condolences to the king.” I nodded at the bag of gold on my desk between us. “And make sure he gets my refund.”

He looked at the money as if it were snot that needed wiping away. “And where,” he asked coldly, “is her body?”

“Cremated,” I said sadly. Oh, was I sad. “I arrived
just as the ceremony started. I verified it was her, but I couldn’t convince them to let me retrieve the body. You know how they are.”

“Convenient,” the old man said.

I shrugged. “Unfortunate.”

“No, I think it’s pretty fortunate. That you arrive just as the moon priestesses are setting the funeral pyre for the poor indigent girl they’d found murdered. And only you knew it was Princess Lila.”

“Still, what’s done is done. I don’t feel right taking King Felix’s money under the circumstances.”

The old man took the bag, hefted it in his hand and then tucked it into his belt. “You were gone a long time. If your friend Commander Teller hadn’t insisted you were honest, I’d have thought you’d simply taken our money and vanished.”

“Something came up while I was gone, and took a little while to resolve.”

“More successfully than this, I hope.”

I nodded. “It all worked out for the best.”

His eyes narrowed as he looked me over. “Perhaps that’s it.”

“What’s it?”

“There’s something different about you. In your eyes. Something’s not there any longer.”

I said nothing.

I followed him downstairs into the tavern. Two uniformed soldiers from the army of Balaton awaited him, and they all rode out of town together. I closed the door, took a seat and nodded to Callie behind the bar.

She put a tankard in front of me. “Did you make a lot of money off that guy, Mr. LaCrosse? He looked rich.”

“He was.” I took a drink and smiled wryly. “And unfortunately, he still is.”

Callie looked at me, her brow wrinkled in thought. “You know, Mr. LaCrosse, I like you and everything, but sometimes I wonder . . . are you any good at your job?”

I was glad I didn’t have a mouthful of ale when she asked me that. “I’ll let you know as soon as I figure it out myself.”

Angelina stuck out her bottom lip, blew a stray black curl from her face and looked at me with disapproval. “So do you ever plan to really work again?”

“My tab’s paid up,” I replied.

“Sure. But you’re starting to settle and spread, if you know what I mean. You need exercise.”

“My kind of job isn’t on a schedule like yours. I just worked for six weeks straight, I deserve some time off.”

“Hmph,” she snorted. “You say you’ll only be gone for a couple of days, then you travel all over the place and come back with a sack of gold, a fancy horse and no new scars. Nice work if you can get it, I suppose.”

The front door creaked open; the hinges were purposefully left ungreased so no one could slip in unannounced. A tall figure stood backlit by the morning sun. She wore boots and trousers, but her shape was definitely feminine. In her right hand she carried a large, vaguely round cloth-covered object.

Angelina put her hands on her hips. “Come on in, you’re letting all the flies out.”

She stepped into the room and the door slammed shut behind her. The sleeping man made a slurred, startled sound but didn’t awaken. The woman reached
into her pocket, pulled out a piece of vellum and, after consulting it, said, “Uh . . . I was told I’d find Edward LaCrosse’s office here.”

Since I sat right in front of her, she clearly didn’t know me, and Angelina knew how to handle this sort of thing. “His office, yeah,” she told the newcomer. “It’s upstairs. But he ain’t in it.”

“Great,” the woman said wearily. She was about thirty-five, with short red hair and freckles. Her crow’s feet and tan told of a lifetime spent outdoors, and she had a healthy, lively glow about her. She put the covered object on the far end of the bar and took a seat. “Guess I’ll be doing some waiting, then. Give me something strong enough to pass the time but not so strong I fall in love.”

Callie put a tankard in front of her. The redhead took a long drink and sighed. “That’ll do it, all right. That’ll do it. So do you expect this LaCrosse guy back anytime soon?”

I was sure I didn’t know this woman, yet there
was
something familiar about her. I tried to look her over without being obvious, but the longer I did, the more I was sure I’d never seen her before. Finally, I signaled Angelina with a little nod.

“I didn’t say he left,” she told the redhead. “I just said he wasn’t in his office.” She jerked her head at me. “Eddie LaCrosse, this is . . . ?”

I stood and walked down the bar. She put down her drink, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, then extended the same hand to me. “Liz Dumont,” she said, “Dumont Confidential Courier Service. Man, you folks are a little paranoid, aren’t you?”

Her last name hit me like a brick dropped from a
siege tower, and suddenly I knew why she seemed familiar. If Cathy had lived,
this
is how she would have looked, and the coincidence was too astounding. It was also too astounding to keep off my face, because Liz stared at me like I’d suddenly sprouted horns.

“Whoa, there,” she said warningly, and pulled her hand away. “Maybe you ain’t seen a redhead in a while, but I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t stare.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, and sat on the stool beside her. “You just . . . you remind me of someone. Do you have a sister somewhere?”

“Ha!” she snorted. “Yeah, I had a sister. A twin. The original Dumont in Dumont CCS. Do you know her?”

I shook my head.

“Figures. She ran off a long time ago. Haven’t heard from her since I took over the business.”

Even acknowledging all the strange things I’d experienced lately, this was by far the eeriest. “So, what can I do for you?” I managed with a reasonable facsimile of nonchalance.

She reached into her pocket. “First, I’m supposed to give you this.”

She handed me a small, expensive envelope, sealed with wax embossed with a stylized letter “R.” My first thought was of another message from a man with the initial “R,” delivered by another red-haired woman named Dumont. The hair on my neck stood up.

I turned the envelope over. My name was written in an elegant, feminine hand on the front.

“Wow,” Angelina said, “I didn’t think any of your girlfriends knew how to write.”

“You have no idea,” Liz said. “I was in Arentia City, and I got summoned by this good-looking kid to meet
this lady right there in the castle. I think she must’ve been somebody important, because she had that air about her, you know? When she told me where I’d find
this
guy, I almost didn’t believe she could know someone here.” She shrugged. “No offense.”

Callie leaned across the bar, oblivious to the view it gave of her cleavage. “Well, open it, Mr. LaCrosse,” she said impatiently. “Maybe you’re being courted.”

I broke the seal and withdrew the note. On scented paper, I read:

I hope this note, and gift, find you well and happy. I can’t explain this, but I feel very strongly that the woman delivering this to you is someone you should meet. It’s almost like she’s somehow meant to right something that was once done wrong. I know this doesn’t make any sense, but I trust that, after all we’ve been through, you can handle one more bit of strangeness. My love always.

It was signed,
Ree
.

I folded the note, put it back in its envelope and placed it on the counter. Liz scooted the big covered object down the bar toward me. “And then I have to give you this,” she said.

I removed the cloth to reveal a birdcage. Inside was one of the tiny shimmering birds I’d seen around Epona, and Rhiannon, and in my dreams. It looked plump and healthy, and flitted among the perches as, no longer covered, it began to sing.

“A bird,” Angelina said, surprised and a little disappointed. “Somebody sent you a
bird
.”

“Oh, he’s adorable,” Callie said, and began whistling to it.

“I’m kind of fond of him, too,” Liz said as she
watched the bird’s antics. “So take good care of him. I’ve had lots worse company.”

“Aw,” Angelina teased, “is’m got a wittle fwiend now?”

“Apparently,” I agreed, and bent to look more closely. Even inside the cage, it moved so quickly I couldn’t see any real details, except that whenever it moved, the air seemed to momentarily sparkle in the space it left behind.

“So what’re you going to do with him?” Angelina asked. “Because if you expect me to clean up bird shit while you’re gone on one of your ‘jobs,’ you’re lickin’ up the wrong thigh.”

“I’d never lick up your thigh, Angel, you know that. I’d just taste all that other spit.”

She clutched her chest as if stabbed, but her eyes twinkled.

I picked up the cage and walked to the door. I propped it open, unlatched the cage and waited. The bird fluttered inside for a moment, then shot through the opening and vanished into the sky. A moment later I saw it hovering near one of the apple trees beside the road.

I shut the door and went back to the bar. The three women looked at me. I shrugged. “If he wants to stay around, he can stay around.”

Angelina sighed and shook her head. She asked Liz, “Are all your jobs this strange?”

Liz laughed. “Some are even weirder.” She cut her eyes at me, and I felt a jolt deep in my chest. Liz’s bangs fell onto her face, and she tucked them behind her ear with a cocky, adorable little grin. Then, just as she turned away, I swear I saw her cheeks flush red.

I smiled.

Liz finished her drink and produced another sheet of vellum from her pocket. She didn’t meet my eyes when she handed it to me and said, “So if you’ll just sign this receipt, I’ll be on my way.”

I took it, Angelina produced a quill and ink bottle from behind the bar, and I was about to sign it when I stopped. “Wait. You can’t get paid the rest of your money unless I sign this, can you?”

She sighed; I wasn’t the first recipient to point this out. “No, but you’re
gonna
sign it because it’s the right thing to do.” She looked at me, her eyes tired and pleading. “Okay?”

“Yeah, of course I’ll sign it,” I agreed as I folded it. “But not until we’ve have some lunch.”

“Ohhh, no,” Liz said instantly; I wasn’t the first recipient to try this, either. “If you’re gonna give me a hard time, I’ll take my chances convincing my client. Besides, if she truly knows you, I bet she won’t be surprised.”

“Ah, Eddie ain’t so bad,” Angelina said. “A little lazy, but otherwise, he’s a decent guy.”

“And he always says nice things to me,” Callie added.

I winked and flipped Callie a coin, then returned my attention to Liz. “Come on. Could a guy who gets sent little birds really be dangerous?”

She tilted her head thoughtfully, and looked so much like her late sister it was spooky. I knew she wasn’t Cathy, of course; one woman couldn’t replace another. But something Epona had said about Cathy came back to me:
She’s close to what you need, closer than you can imagine. But she’s not the right one
. Who was I to argue with a goddess?

“All right, you’ve got a point,” Liz said. “But
just lunch
. I’m a busy gal, and I can’t spend all day in Neceda.” Then she laughed. “Damn, I can’t believe I’m doing this.”