Nathaniel caught her hand on the way out, giving it a squeeze. “I’m sure Fulcrum will have a plan.”
Caris swallowed, tongue dry against the roof of her mouth. “One hopes.”
Once outside, they climbed into the motor carriage, a sleek black one whose motor hummed under the hood once the ignition was turned. At any other time, Caris would have asked questions about the make, but she was too keyed up. She sat in the back seat with her mother, while Nathaniel took the front passenger seat.
They were blocks away, Blaine white-knuckling the steering wheel, when Caris finally asked the question tumbling through her thoughts. “What is therionetkayou mentioned?
In the rearview mirror, she could see Blaine’s mouth twist. “Siv was a diplomatic officer who worked at the E’ridian embassy for years. She was clan, and she was loyal. She still shot Honovi and nearly killed him. I shot her, and she ultimately died from the wounds, but not before a magician examined her memories. A medical examiner performed an autopsy in secret under diplomatic immunity afterward.”
“How would you receive diplomatic immunity?” Portia asked.
Blaine glanced back at her in the rearview mirror before his gaze cut to Caris briefly. “Because I’ve been a member of Clan Storm for longer than I was ever Ashionen. Honovi is my husband.”
Caris blinked in surprise. “You don’t have a marriage torc.”
“I couldn’t wear it here.” Blaine flicked the indicator and turned left at the intersection that would take them onto the boulevard leading to the civic heart of the city. They needed to cut through that area before reaching the Auclair estate. “We needed diplomatic immunity to keep quiet what we found, and I acted in Honovi’s stead.”
“Therionetka, I assume?” Nathaniel asked.
Blaine nodded. “Siv had vivisection scars on her chest, though she lived and breathed like any one of us for who knows how long. When the doctor cut her open, he found a metal clockwork heart inside her. The magician who examined her memories found blank spots in her mind. We don’t know how this process came about, but we know she knew herself as arionetkaand could not disobey the magic that animated her.”
“Was she even alive?” Portia asked tightly.
“Living under duress isn’t living. I sent the magician back to E’ridia this morning via airship. TheComhairle nan Cinnidheanmust be told, and so does Fulcrum. I have an airship on standby in case we need it.”
“This is high-level information. Should you even be telling us this?”
Blaine’s gaze caught Caris’ in the rearview mirror once again. “Probably not, but I’m telling you anyway.”
Portia went quiet, her hand finding Caris’ without her even needing to look. The drive down the boulevard was made in fraught silence. As they drew closer to the civic heart of the city, traffic slowed to a crawl. More people were on the street than usual for that time of day. Caris looked out the window, seeing more than one passing group of people holding signs nailed to sticks.
“It’s a protest,” she said.
“Must be about the latest banking law. Part of why Eimarille came here was to push that through the summer session,” Nathaniel said.
“Emmitt is going to be at the Bureau of Patents. The peacekeepers aren’t fond of protests,” Portia fretted.
“Probably not the best place for him to be if he doesn’t want to get caught in the crowd.”
“Can you go any faster?”
Blaine lifted one hand off the steering wheel and pointed at the stalled traffic in front of them. “We aren’t moving anywhere, and this is the only way to get to the Auclair estate.”
“At this rate, we won’t get there until supper,” Caris said.
Portia made an aggravated sound. “Stop the motor carriage.”
“Not a good idea,” Blaine warned.
“We’ll move faster on foot in this crowd. Find a place to park.” Portia spoke with the demanding tone of a woman who had spent years presiding over a company. Some might say it was noble arrogance, but running a company took far more work than presiding over a landless title.
“Do as she says,” Nathaniel said.
Blaine swore, but he still turned off the boulevard once they made it to the next intersection. The cross street was less crowded, but only just. Other people seemed to have the same idea, peeling out of the traffic to bypass the large group of people marching to the protest near the palace. Two more turns and Blaine managed to find a parking spot on the street.
“It’s probably a good thing I don’t own this motor carriage,” Blaine said after he turned the engine off.
“You don’t?” Caris asked.
