Royal Airs (26 page)

“I don’t pay Samson that much, to tell you the truth,” Rafe answered. “You’d need a better incentive than that.”

She laughed. “Oh,
would
I? What kinds of inducements are you looking for?”

He laughed back. “Opportunities to meet all your rich and powerful friends, of course. I can’t think of anything else that would draw me back here on a regular basis.”

She felt a little breathless. She half wanted him to say
A chance to see
you
every day
, and half feared how she might feel if he spoke the syllables aloud. Even unsaid, the words glittered in the air between them. “Kayle told me that you came to see him.”

“Did he? Should I be flattered that you and the elay prime were talking about me?”

“Well, we were at an
excrutiatingly
boring dinner when we were having the conversation, so we were desperate for any topic that would get us through another five minutes.”

He grinned. “He took me out to his aeromotive factory. I can’t tell if he’s brilliant or absolutely insane.”

“No, that’s the problem with Kayle. With most of the Dochenzas, in fact. But I do like him. When I can understand what he’s talking about.”

Rafe leaned his elbows on the table and looked like he was debating whether or not to tell her something. “He didn’t actually offer me a job,” he said finally, “but I think he’d give me one if I wanted it.”

Josetta felt her eyebrows lift. “Doing what?”

“Piloting his prototype aeromotives.”

The breath went right out of her at that. “Piloting—flying them? Up in the air?” When he nodded, she said, “But isn’t that dangerous? I mean,
really
dangerous?”

He nodded again. “They’ve lost seven fliers. One of his assistants thinks they’ll stop at eight—because, you know, it’s a
propitious
number.”

She could hardly believe it. “Are you that much in love with danger?” she demanded. “I mean, the life you lead now isn’t exactly safe and calm. People seem to want to beat you up on a regular basis. But it’s like living inside a banker’s vault compared to flying one of Kayle’s experimental machines.”

“No, in fact, I think I have a pretty healthy desire to live,” he responded. “But I need to—I don’t want to—” He paused a moment, seeming to think over what he wanted to say. “You see them all the time, southside. Old men, skinny as sticks, sitting in the darkest corner of some dark bar. Shuffling their cards. Waiting for the next stupid torz farmboy to come in and gamble away the profit on whatever crop he just sold at market. They look like ghosts. No, they look like those slimy little bugs you see if you turn over a rock in a garden. Small and squirmy and afraid of daylight.”

Still leaning on his elbows, he lifted his gaze and trained it on her. “I don’t want to be one of those men. But I only have two choices. Die in some bar brawl when someone accuses me of cheating—or find a way out. What other kind of work can I find? I’m not trained for anything. But I learn fast. I don’t mind danger. And I
like
Kayle Dochenza’s crazy machines. I keep thinking this might be just the kind of job I need to move me out of here.”

Josetta held her breath through most of his speech, which was delivered in a quiet and sober voice. Not much posturing with Rafe Adova, not much ornamentation. Although she was petrified by the thought of Rafe risking his life in one of Kayle’s experimental deathtraps, she wholly understood now why he would want to do it. She also, for the first time, understood how Darien felt when
she
had taken up residence in the slums. Shocked and terrified and, maybe, a little proud.

She could hardly tell him not to do it. Not when she understood why he wanted to.

“I think it’s a splendid idea,” she said, “though I’m scared to death for you.”

“Really?” He looked inordinately pleased. “I thought you might try to talk me out of it.”

“Well, I won’t agree to go flying
with
you, so don’t even think about inviting me.”

He laughed. “Only room for one person in the driver’s box.”

“When will you go flying for the first time?”

“I haven’t even asked for the job yet! And I imagine I’d need some training. And that’s assuming Kayle Dochenza is willing to hire me. Maybe I misread him. He’s not an easy man to understand.”

“No, I think he’d hire you tomorrow. He likes you.”

Rafe looked pleased again. “I
am
moving up in the world,” he said. “A prime likes me. And a princess likes me.” He glanced at her. “I think.”

She smiled back. “I think she does.”

He leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands behind his head, an exaggerated pose of a man sure of himself and his place in the world. “So that’s what
I’ve
been doing in the nineday since I saw you last,” he said. “How have you been occupying yourself? How was your changeday? You said you were at a boring dinner.”

So she told him about Ghyaneth’s visit, and he told her about his trip to see Steff, and they talked a little more about Kayle and his flying machines and what it might be like to live in the port town.

“But even if you do it,” she said in a warning voice. “Even if you take a job with Kayle and move down by the harbor. You have to come back here on firstday for dinner.”

“I will,” he said. “I promise.”

All in all, it was a lovely interlude, made even lovelier when she finally walked Rafe to the door and he kissed her on the cheek before ducking out into the night. Josetta was smiling in a silly girlish way when she closed the door and turned back into the main room. In the shadows she could just make out Foley standing at the base of the stairwell, watching to be sure she made it safely to bed.

“Don’t tell Zoe,” she said.

“I won’t,” he said. He didn’t sound shocked or amused or jealous or even worried. He merely waited until she’d blown out all the candles, then followed her up the stairs.

 • • • 

I
t turned out Foley didn’t have to tell Zoe about late-night flirtations with attractive vagabonds because Josetta accidentally told her sister herself. Even worse, Corene was in the room.

They were at Darien’s for the afternoon, “resting up for the horrors to come tonight,” as Zoe put it—another formal dinner, followed by a theatrical production Seterre had helped put together. It was supposed to feed the visiting prince the whole history of Welce in two dramatic and entertaining hours. As far as Josetta had been able to ascertain, only Seterre was looking forward to the performance.

The three of them were lounging in the room Darien had specially built for Zoe. It featured windows on three sides to let in oceans of sunlight, and it was decorated in the aqueous blues and greens that soothed the coru soul. But its primary attraction was the low circular fountain that ringed the room like a tame indoor river, gurgling over rocks and hissing through simulated rapids. On hot days, Zoe had been known to wade through the fountain or actually plop herself down on one of the larger boulders and get soaking wet. Corene and Josetta were more likely to dangle their feet in the water by sitting on the small metal bridge that connected the room to the rest of the house. They had become less excited about this activity once Zoe introduced fish into the river.

“I can’t believe we have to endure another dinner,” Corene complained. “Isn’t the stupid prince leaving soon?”

“The day after tomorrow—but he’s coming back,” Zoe informed her. She glanced over at her baby, sleeping beside her on a sofa cushion, but making little mewing noises in her dreams. “Don’t you wake up, Celia darling. Not yet.”

“He’s coming back? Why?”

“When he leaves, he’s only going as far as Soeche-Tas. And when he returns, he plans to meet with Kayle and talk about some of his inventions. Elaymotives, mostly. Apparently he’s asked Kayle to come visit him in Berringey, but Kayle refused outright. I think he’s happy to export his ideas to other countries, but not if he has to cross the sea.”

“I don’t think Ghyaneth will enjoy visiting Kayle’s factories,” Josetta remarked. “They’re hot and
loud
and full of these awful smells.”

Corene, who had been lying on her back on a low divan, turned over and propped herself up on her elbows. “You went to visit Kayle’s factory?
Why?
I can’t imagine anything more dull.”

Josetta didn’t have a lie ready and she stumbled through her reply. “I was taking—someone I knew wanted to meet Kayle, so I said I’d introduce . . .”
Him.
“This person,” she ended lamely.

Now Zoe rolled to a more upright position, clearly intrigued. “Some person you know? From the slums? Because I would think everyone else you’ve ever met in your life has been acquainted with Kayle as long as you have.”

Corene’s eyes grew wide with speculation. “Is she right? Truly? Someone you met down at the shelter? Tell us everything about him. It’s a him, right? Who else would care about a stinky old factory?”

“There were plenty of women working there,” Josetta said, hoping to turn the subject. The fish bracelet on her wrist had never seemed so heavy. She held her hands absolutely still so the charms didn’t chime together and draw her sisters’ attention, eliciting another spate of questions. “Not all of them were elay, either. I think there are plenty of sweela folks who are just as entranced as Kayle is with his elaymotives.”

“We don’t care about those people,” Zoe said. “Who did you take to meet Kayle?”

Josetta glanced at Corene and gave up. She’d always been a hopeless liar. “Rafe Adova.”

Zoe looked bewildered, but Corene bounced to a sitting position, positively delighted. “Rafe!” she crowed. “So you’ve seen him since that night?”

“What night? Who’s Rafe?” Zoe demanded.

“The man who rescued me,” Corene said. “He’s
much
more handsome than the Berringey prince.”

“The man who—the gambler? Who lives in a tavern?
That’s
who you’ve been secretly meeting with?”

“I haven’t been ‘
secretly
meeting’ with him,” Josetta said, though the evolving friendship did have a clandestine feel. “He came to the shelter one night when he’d been in a fight and needed someone to patch him up.” All right, that wasn’t strictly the truth, but she plunged on. “And he mentioned that he was trying to decide how to invest the reward money Darien had left him. He’s interested in the elaymotives, so I offered to introduce him to Kayle. That’s all there is to it.”

Corene and Zoe traded glances. “Is that all there is to it?” Zoe asked.

“No,” Corene said positively. “She likes him. I can tell.”

Josetta mustered indignation. “Corene!”

Zoe leaned back against her cushions, amused now, not nearly as alarmed as Darien or Seterre would have been. Well, Zoe had a healthy disregard for class distinctions and societal expectations. She’d spent years camped on the border of poverty, and she had her own criteria for judging a person’s worth. “I always thought it would have been Foley that Josetta ran away with,” she said. “To the outrage of her mother and all the Five Families.”

Corene shook her head. “Foley’s not in love with her. He never was.”

“How would
you
know?” Josetta demanded.

“Well, we spent all that time together when we were traveling with Jaker and Barlow. I saw how Foley treated you.”

“You were, what, twelve years old? You had no idea what might be going on.”

“How did he treat her?” Zoe wanted to know.

Corene waved a hand. “Like a precious object. Like something he had to keep safe. Jaker said—”

“Jaker! You and Jaker talked about Foley and me?”

“Of course we did. Jaker said he acted around you the way Barlow acted around some expensive new cargo they’d just acquired that he wanted to get safely to its destination. So he watched over you and worried over you—but he didn’t plan to keep you for himself.”

Zoe nodded. “That makes sense. Jaker’s always been so insightful.”

Josetta was ruffled at the whole conversation, but she hardly knew which part to protest against. She settled on, “I don’t think I like being gossiped about.”

“So then tell us what we want to know,” Zoe invited. Celia hiccupped in her sleep and Zoe patted her on the back. “Tell us more about Rafe Adova! Have you seen him since you took him to the factory?”

“He dropped by the shelter the other day,” Josetta said unwillingly.

“And what did you talk about?”

“Just—whatever people usually talk about.”

“What have you found out about his background? His people?”

“Well, he’s not secretly connected to one of the Five Families, if that’s what you’re hoping.”

Zoe spread her hands in a gesture of innocence. “I’m hoping he’s
not
. Or he would be a lot less interesting.”

Josetta shrugged. “His parents are dead. He has a stepfather and a half brother who live on a farm in the western provinces. He’s been living on his own in the city since he was seventeen—and it’s just now occurred to him that maybe he should come up with a plan for his life.”

“So he’s going to invest in smoker cars,” Zoe said.

Josetta laughed. She couldn’t prevent herself from adding, “And he’s thinking about signing on to pilot some of Kayle’s aeromotives.”

That really got their attention. “He wants to fly?” Zoe demanded.

“Then he’s as crazy as Kayle,” Corene said.

“Is he elay?”

Now Josetta shared a look with Corene, who was smiling. “No. When we met him, he didn’t have any blessings.”

“He has mine now, though,” Corene said with satisfaction.

“Right. But whenever he pulled his own blessings, they were always ghost coins.”

Zoe looked fascinated. “How unusual. I wonder what that means? Maybe
you
should try picking blessings for him.”

“I did. Time. Triumph. Synthesis.”

For a moment, Zoe and Corene just stared at her, clearly trying to work out what such a set of blessings might mean. “An extraordinary young man, it would appear,” Zoe said at last. “I believe I will have to meet him.”

Josetta couldn’t decide if that would make things better or worse. “Darien met him,” she said with a faint smile. “He wasn’t impressed.”