The scrolls.
Daziel was a high shayd. Which he’d kept hidden so he drew less attention. Betrothed to a girl working on scrolls. Scrolls under the authority of a professor who didn’t like shedim. Scrolls no one could guess the content of.
Something that looks different, he’d suggested.Something you could recognize without needing to know the characters themselves. By recognizing a pattern.
A pattern like a palindrome.
I looked back at Leah, who was regarding me with matching horror. “It’s the scrolls, isn’t it?” she asked. “He wanted to know about the scrolls.”
“He knew what was in them.” I felt sick. “He essentially suggested I look for a palindrome in Language X. Which we found; we found the word ‘Ziz.’ How did he know Ziz would be there?Noone knows what the scrolls are about.”
Leah’s face was filled with empathy, her voice soft. “Maybe Daziel does.”
“I have to go.” I scrambled to my feet. “I have to talk to him.”
Leah grabbed my hand, her eyes wide and worried. “Are you sure? I’ll come with you.”
“No, it’s okay. And—” My voice cracked. “I’d like to confront him alone.”
She squeezed my hand. “Do you think it’s safe?”
You trust too easily, I heard him say. Still. “He’s a liar,” I said, my voice trembling. “But I don’t think he’s dangerous.”
Leah gave me a sad smile. “This doesn’t mean he lied about everything.”
“It doesn’t mean he was telling the truth, though,” I said, then excused myself before I burst into tears.
I took the tram to the Society Hill stop, then walked uphill for half an hour past the grand gardens and estates. At least the burn from the climb distracted me from the tightness in my chest. I studied the endless bugs and beetles on my walk. Without the birds, the populations had exploded.
“The councilwoman is gone for the day,” her housekeeper said when I came back, regarding me skeptically. “Shouldn’t you be at school?”
I smiled tightly. “I wasn’t feeling well.”
The woman softened. “Have a cup of tea, then.”
I took the chamomile to the courtyard garden. At home, farther to the north, nothing bloomed at the end of winter, but here, color had started to arrive. Almond trees had small pink-and-white flowers; delicate pink blossoms covered pear and apricot trees; even the cherry tree flowers had begun opening. I breathed in the fragrance, trying to clear my head, and set the white porcelain tea tray on a decorative wrought iron table, my hands shaking.
“Daziel,” I said, his name tasting bitter. Why had I even expected to find him here? Maybe he planned to spend the whole day with Talum’s elite. “Daziel. Daziel.”
“Hello, yonati.”
He stood framed between two cherry trees. His outfit was even more extravagant than usual, as though along with throwing off the deceit of being a wild shayd, he also no longer cared to fit in with the student aesthetic. Green silk pantaloons were tucked into embroidered boots; a brocade jacket framed a ruffled cravat.
“Wow,” I said, brutally aware I wore the same rumpled trousers I usually did, and a boring brown shirt, my hair pulled back in a severe braid. “Fancy.”
He smiled cautiously. “Like it?”
I shrugged, consumed with self-loathing. How had I ever thought he was a wild shayd? Even with his black eyes and talons, he radiated the kind of confidence and presence that only came from growing up with far too much power.
“Apparently, the current fashion is for high-waisted pants with a broad band, as set by Mr.Wasterstein, who is considered the arbiter of men’s grooming.” Daziel slung off the jacket and loosened his cravat. “I am less certain about the cravat, but I’m willing to give it a go.”
I caught the whiff of a delicate lady’s perfume.Is that recommended by the arbiter of men’s grooming too?I almost asked but resisted. “Is that what you were doing today? Learning about fashion during your breakfast with the grand duke?”
“Partially.”
“What was the other part?”
He opened his mouth as though to say more, then paused. Cocked his head. “Why did you call me?”
