Emma Bull by Falcon

Author:Falcon [Falcon]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

They’d broken the overhead lamps in the corridor before they left. So when he opened the one eye that would, and found a wash of dim light over his face, he knew someone else must be there.

“Don’t move yet,” he was told, by a voice like smoke and silver. He almost recognized it—twice over, though he wasn’t sure what he meant by that. He was no longer hanging; he felt the floor under him. Couldn’t feel his hands, though, and he wondered where they were. He disobeyed the wonderful voice and turned his head a little.

The gilded cat’s face hung at an odd angle before him, and an arm seemed to be protruding from one of its ears. No, the mask was unfastened and hanging on its owner’s chest. His gaze traveled upward to the real face.

The lighting was bizarre, cast by a pocket lamp lying on the floor. But by it he could see that the face was just within the parameters of human beauty. It seemed as if it must have been carved; it was too cleanly made, too perfect, to have happened by chance. The lips were thin, and yet not harsh. The brows, which were slightly darker than the honey-colored hair, arched over one-of-a-kind golden eyes. They reflected the light a little, like a cat’s.

Niki began to laugh, weakly and with some pain.

“I told you not to move. I think you’ve broken a rib.”

“I didn’t break it. Someone else did. Are you really who you look like?”

Chrysander Harris frowned down at him. “I suppose it would be cruel to let you think you were delirious.”

“Probably am anyway.”

Harris moved out of his line of sight, but his voice went on. “I’m very sorry. I could have prevented this, I think, if I’d only paid attention. They obviously weren’t done with you when they left the bar. But by the time I remembered that, and followed you…”

Niki wished he’d stop saying things that made him laugh. “How old are you?”

There was a pause. “I beg your pardon?”

“I used to take credit for everything that happened. I was nineteen, though.”

“I’m twenty-eight,” Harris said irritably. Niki couldn’t honestly blame him.

He now knew where his hands were; Harris was pounding the circulation back into them. “This is—ow—your fault. Ow. Sort of.” He dragged air into his aching lungs. “They were hired to warn me away from you. From taking your commission. Isn’t that funny?”

At that, Harris let his hands alone. He said something, obscenity or invocation, in a language Niki didn’t know. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t know she wouldùI didn’t know.”

” ‘S all right. They did your work for you.”

“What? I don’t want—”

“Your proof. Someone’s scared to death you’ll get to Lamia.” His muscles were threatening him with something. In another minute, he’d figure out what it was. “So you may be as important as you think you are.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m accepting your commission. Besides, they made me mad.” He laughed, and the sudden spasm in his back strangled it.

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