Royal Airs (33 page)

“He’s not here,” Kayle said. “He’s at another facility.”

“Take me to him.”

Kayle’s blue eyes blinked rapidly behind his lenses. He wasn’t sensitive to nuance, but even he couldn’t miss the autocratic tone. “Is something wrong?”

“I need to speak with him. You can listen if you like.” He glanced fleetingly at Josetta. “I suppose all the primes will need to be informed, no matter how closely we try to contain the information.”

“I am hardly a gossip, Darien,” Kayle said with dignity.

“Good. Because a life is at stake.”

They couldn’t all fit in Darien’s elaymotive, so Kayle called for another car, and soon enough they were on their way through the dirty, noisy, smelly city. Kayle was a terrible driver, though he did slow down when Josetta cried out as he almost ran over a pedestrian. When they arrived at a large building on the edge of town, Josetta thought she’d never been so relieved to step out of an elaymotive.

“We will need privacy,” Darien said as they stepped into a cavernous space cluttered with ropes and pulleys and cylindrical containers. “Is there a place we can talk without being overheard?”

“I have a room in the back,” Kayle said. A young man had hurried up to see how he might assist the prime, and Kayle told him, “Bring Rafe Adova to my office, then make sure no one disturbs us.”

“I’ll wait here,” Foley said and stepped just outside the door.

Kayle showed them to a room that was just as cluttered as his office at the factory, though it was smaller, windowless, and had fewer chairs. Kayle, as always, seemed too restless to sit, and Darien too intent, but Josetta found a stool, dropped onto it, and simply waited.

When Rafe stepped inside five minutes later, his face instantly assumed what Josetta considered his gambler’s expression—perfectly friendly and perfectly unreadable. He gave each of them a respectful bow, briefly met Josetta’s eyes, then turned to face Darien.

“I suppose your wife has told you her discovery,” he said. “Have you come to look for more proof?”

“Zoe’s word is proof enough,” Darien said. “Though I suppose Kayle could corroborate her theory.”

“I could if I knew what it was,” Kayle said.

Darien nodded at Rafe. “Your new pilot turns out to be related to Prince Ghyaneth of Berringey. From what we are able to piece together, a cousin, and directly in line for the throne.”

Kayle looked regretful. “Well, that’s bad news. He was a very promising pilot. I suppose now I’ll need to find a replacement.”

Josetta hid a smile as Darien said in an acid voice, “Indeed, replacements are in order. But that’s not the urgent part of this story. The Berringese customarily kill off their close heirs, so there’s no untidy scrambling for the throne. If Ghyaneth discovers Rafe’s existence, Rafe’s life will be forfeit.”

Kayle brightened. “So then he might choose to stay on as a pilot after all.”

Darien stopped trying to hide his exasperation. “Kayle. At the moment, I’m not concerned with your employment issues. First, I would like to know if you can validate Zoe’s claim. And second, I thought we might discuss what we can do to keep Rafe Adova safe.”

Kayle looked surprised. “I told him already. He’s not from Welce, and neither were his parents. But there’s not much else I can tell you.”

“Still, that’s useful to know,” Darien replied.

Rafe spoke up for the first time. “I like the notion of staying safe, but I’m not sure there’s much you can do for me as long as Welce has trading agreements with Berringey. Any Berringese merchant might see me on the streets and recognize me at any time.”

Kayle looked at him doubtfully. “Really? Now that I study you, I notice something of a resemblance to Ghyaneth, but it’s not so pronounced that strangers will gasp out in wonder.”

Grinning, Rafe pushed back his hair to display his marked ear. “I believe this is what gave me away the last time someone tried to kill me.”

Kayle stepped close enough to study the precise cuts. “Very artistic,” he pronounced. “Though a little odd.”

Josetta stirred on her stool. “But if no one at the Berringese court knows what Rafe looks like, can’t we just disguise him? Perhaps a dollmaker can create a false ear.”

“Perfect,” Kayle said.

Darien shook his head. “Unfortunately, not perfect. I think once Ghyaneth knows you are alive and living in Welce, he will mount an intense campaign to have you found and brought to him, whether alive or dead. Simple disguises will not deter him for long. And if we as a nation do not aid him in the hunt, he will declare us his enemies and act accordingly.”

“Declare war on us?” Kayle scoffed. “Surely you exaggerate.”

Darien gave him a cool look. “We essentially are harboring a threat to his crown,” he said. “Politically, we are in a tricky position. I do not want to anger the Berringese—but I cannot condone outright murder. We must think through our options and prepare for Berringey’s hostility.”

Josetta saw Rafe square his shoulders. “I suppose it would be easier for you if I left Welce.”

Darien glanced at him. “Probably not. Unless we could prove you had gone somewhere else, Ghyaneth would suspect you were still here, merely in hiding.”

“Then I’m not sure what you think I should do next.”

Darien nodded. “I confess I haven’t arrived at an ideal solution, though I do believe we need to surround you with soldiers, which means placing you in more defensible living quarters. But where? The palace is too obvious a choice, as is my house. We need a more out-of-the-way location.”

“You could go to your stepfather’s farm,” Josetta said.

Rafe shook his head. “And bring trouble down on the heads of everyone who lives there? I don’t think so.”

“I was thinking a homestead of one of the primes,” Darien said. “Zoe’s house by the river, or Mirti’s place in the woods. Not only are there plenty of guards on hand, but there is also some value in being under a prime’s protection.”

Josetta grinned. “Zoe could call up floodwaters to wash away anyone trying to kill Rafe.”

“Exactly,” Darien said. “And Mirti could topple trees onto an assassin’s head.”

“But—how long would you expect me to stay someplace like that?” Rafe asked. “Because I’ll go mad if I’m buried away in the countryside.”

“You might have to stay for some considerable length of time,” Darien admitted.

“I have a better idea,” Kayle said, his blue eyes sparkling. “Hide him here in an areomotive facility! No one would expect a royal heir to be training to fly. And
I
am a prime! He would be under my protection.”

Rafe and Josetta laughed, though Darien did not appear amused. “I would value your advice, Kayle, if it didn’t appear to be so drenched in self-interest.”

“He might be right, though,” Josetta said. “Ghyaneth seems the type who would think it was
much
more likely for royalty to seek shelter in the homes of the primes and the Five Families.”

Darien frowned. “But surely we all agree that we cannot leave Rafe undefended. And if he is trailed by five or six guards wherever he goes, even if it’s just to an aeromotive factory, someone will eventually notice.”

“Then don’t put me under guard,” Rafe said. “I’ve survived up till now on my own.”

Darien gave him a long, considering look. “Perhaps you have,” he said. “But since you have now become my responsibility, it is unthinkable that I allow you to take such risks.”

“I didn’t ask to become your responsibility,” Rafe replied quietly. “You can take me off your list.”

Darien’s voice was equally soft. “It is not for anyone but me to determine where my duties lie. You have become one of them, and I do not shirk my duty.”

“Don’t argue with him,” Josetta advised Rafe. “You won’t win.”

Rafe threw his hands in the air. “Well, it seems like an impossible situation! I see no easy solution.”

“If you would consider—” Darien began, but he stopped abruptly when the door flew open after the most perfunctory knock.

“This
is
where you’re hiding,” Nelson Ardelay said as he stepped inside and looked around disparagingly. “What an ugly room! I hope you don’t spend much time here.”

It was typical of Kayle to be immediately distracted from the issue at hand. “No, I’m rarely in my office at all,” he replied. “Usually only when there’s some kind of math I need to puzzle out.”

“I’d be so full of despair I wouldn’t be able to do sums.”

“Arithmetic usually fills me with despair,” Kayle agreed. He cocked his head. “Was I expecting you?”

“You were expecting me at the
factory
,” Nelson said with exaggerated patience. “Where I was told you’d come
here
for the day. So, since I drove all the way from Chialto, I thought I’d track you down.” The big, burly redhead put his hands on his hips, glanced around at the assembled company, and drew the obvious conclusion. “I suppose I’m interrupting something. My apologies.”

Josetta stood up so she could kiss him on the cheek, a salute he returned with enthusiasm. There was always something bracing about Nelson’s mere presence; it instantly made her feel more cheerful. “Hello, Uncle.”

Darien, speaking more to the point, said, “You are, but your insights might be useful, so you may as well stay.”

Nelson nodded in Rafe’s direction. “I don’t think I’m acquainted with this fellow.”

“No, and despite his unassuming appearance, he’s causing us all kinds of trouble,” Darien said with a trace of humor. “Rafe, Nelson Ardelay. The sweela prime. Nelson, this is Rafe Adova. Who is—” Darien’s voice trailed off as he assessed the look on Nelson’s face. The sweela prime was focused, frowning, and just a bit bewildered. “Ah. Perhaps you already know.”

Nelson shook his head. “Usually I can get a sense of a person, if I’m standing close enough. I can pick up strong emotions and recognize thought patterns. But he’s a blank to me.”

“See? That’s what I said,” Kayle interjected. “Well, I said I couldn’t hear him breathing, but it’s practically the same thing.”

Nelson sent an inquiring look in Darien’s direction. “I didn’t have much luck reading the Berringese delegation, either, though it was easy enough to tell what Ghyaneth was thinking most of the time.” He nodded at Rafe again. “There’s something about him that reeks of Berringey. Is that what you want me to notice?”

“Exactly,” Darien said. “Zoe says he’s close kin to Ghyaneth—most likely a cousin.”

Nelson looked impressed. “Really! But didn’t—” Now he frowned. “Didn’t Ghyaneth say that he’d killed off all his cousins except one?” He pointed at Rafe. “So why is this one still alive? Did he run away?”

“As always, I appreciate your quick wits, Nelson,” Darien said. “But it appears to be slightly more complicated. We believe his mother stole away with him when
she
realized his eventual fate. She died before telling Rafe his true story—which Rafe might never have learned if Zoe hadn’t happened to meet him.”

“Exciting,” Nelson commented. “But something of a dilemma for you. Ghyaneth seems like the type to make a big fuss over Welce giving sanctuary to his enemies. Though I don’t think you should hand him over to be executed.”

By Darien’s faint smile, Josetta guessed he was again pleased at how quickly Nelson had put the pieces together. “Right on all counts. We were just debating the best way to keep him safe without drawing attention to him.”

Nelson ran a hand through his graying red hair. “You could send him to my place. It’s remote enough.”

“It’s kind of you to offer,” Rafe spoke up. “If the danger was immediate and short-term, I’d take you up on it. But for the rest of my life? I don’t think I could bear it.”

Nelson had cocked his head again, listening to the cadence of Rafe’s words. “Now there. When you speak. I can hear Ghyaneth in your voice.”

“They don’t sound anything alike,” Josetta protested. “Ghyaneth’s voice is so much lighter, and he only spoke to us in Coziquela. Rafe talks Welchin like a native.”

Nelson shook his head. “It’s not the words. Not the timbre of their voices. It’s the way their words reveal their thoughts. I can’t explain it.”

“We stray from the point,” Darien said. “Which is: How do we keep Rafe Adova secure?”

“You don’t want to assign a few guards to him? It seems the obvious solution,” Nelson said.

Kayle waved a hand. “Darien thinks they’ll only draw attention to him. Though no one ever notices guards, do they?
I
don’t.”

“Disguise the guards as pilots or workers in Kayle’s factories,” Josetta suggested.

Nelson glanced between them. “There’s a reason Rafe Adova is spending his time in Kayle’s factory?”

“He’s training to be a pilot,” Darien said dryly. When Nelson looked incredulous, he added, “Exactly.”

“I don’t want a bunch of royal guards pretending to be mechanics,” Kayle said. “They’ll only get in the way.”

“I have a better solution,” Nelson said. His eyes were sparkling as he pointed at Josetta, and she had a sudden foreboding.
I can pick up strong emotions,
he had just said. What had he picked up from her?

“Say there’s been some threat against the princess,” Nelson went on. “Assign a detail of guards to follow her everywhere. Then make sure Rafe Adova is always near Josetta. The guards will be watching
him
, though they seem to be watching
her
.”

“I like that,” Kayle approved. “It’s elegant.”

Nelson, Darien, and Rafe were all gazing at Josetta with varying degrees of speculation. “It might do for the short-term,” Darien said. “But it would require Josetta and Rafe to become practically inseparable.”

“Oh, I don’t imagine either one of them would object to that,” Nelson said affably. “I mean, if it saves his
life
.”

Josetta was fiercely telling herself not to blush, but nonetheless she could feel the heat rising to her cheeks. “It might require us to change our schedules a little,” she said, trying to speak coolly. “Rafe’s been helping at the shelter now and then, usually on firstday, but he’s in training most of the time.”

“So he helps more and trains less,” Nelson said. “Not a major obstacle.”