“We’ve got a bit of a drive ahead of us,” Hallie said, opening the passenger door. “I can fill you in on the way.” She paused before getting into the car. His mention of Cotovatre had reminded her of something else. “Cotovatre is hosting an event this evening, something about the opening of the Conclave. She’s invited us both, if we’re free.”
“That’s a great honour,” Girard answered, the serious tone and Hallie’s truth sense letting her know he meant it. “We should definitely make time, if we can.”
“Good. She also said she’d invited the director but hadn’t had a reply,” Hallie mentioned.
“I’ll text and remind him, and let him know we’ll be going,” Girard said. He met her eyes across the roof of the car and she saw the hesitation before he spoke. “I imagine it’s going to be very full of a lot of Conclave members and their spouses.”
Hallie grimaced, remembering the onehochlenevent she’d attended in high city before now, at his parents’ house. She hadn’t enjoyed the experience. “I know. But it is for the lady.”
“Indeed. Where to?” he asked, getting into the driver’s seat.
Grateful for the change of subject, Hallie gave him directions while he started the engine.
As he drove through the quiet streets of high city, Hallie found herself distracted again. She’d never seen this particular part of the city before, and as the car made a turn she caught sight of an enormous building, that seemed at least as large as the rail terminus in midtown. It rose several storeys into the air, made of glass and metal and sleek curves. There were mature trees around it, giving Hallie an idea of scale.
“Saints, what’s that?” she asked.
“The metal and glass building? That’s the Conclave,” Girard answered, “or, at least, that’s the Conclave building in Daydawn.The main meeting chamber is in there along with offices and support staff for all the Conclave members.”
“It’s enormous,” Hallie said, turning her head to keep track of it as Girard kept driving.
“It is. Only the one in Haagsfall has a bigger footprint, I think. But the Haagsfall base is really a complex of various buildings built up over time and not one single building like here.”
“You said the meeting chamber. Is that the one with the giant table and marble walls that gets shown on screen?” Hallie asked, brow wrinkling as she tried to reconcile the very grand, very large and almost old-fashioned meeting room she’d seen images of with the sleek and modern structure.
“That’s the one. The main meeting chambers are designed to be similar the world over so there’s no confusion about who sits where and so on,” Girard said, a hint of laughter in his voice. Having met some of the Conclave members, Hallie could easily imagine that the seating arrangements might cause arguments.
“Do they ever let visitors in?” she asked.
“Not casual walk-ins, no, but we do go in from time to time. Conclave members expect people to go and visit them, not the other way round.” The laughter was still there, but faded as Girard went on, after a brief pause. “And I am sure that Lady Cotovatre would sign you in if you wanted to see inside.”
“Of course,” Hallie said, suddenly feeling awkward.
The car passed through the checkpoint and onto the twisting road down to midtown.
“My mother turned up at Rosalia’s house last night,” she said abruptly. “I told you that she’d cut me off the family vine and then decided she wanted me back. She just turned up. Someone must have seen me.” Hallie paused, trying to swallow down her anger and hurt and keep her voice calm. “I’m not quite sure why she’s being so stubborn about this. She won’t listen to me. Luckily, Cotovatre and Emmet were able to come. After that, itseemed best that I not stay in Rosalia’s house.” It was barely enough of a description to let Girard have any kind of impression of what had gone on, but Hallie found she couldn’t speak much more of it. Not right now. It had taken her a while to tell Girard about her severance from the family vine, during one of their evening conversations on the other side of the world. Somehow the distance, and the exotic location, had made it easier. But now she was back in her home city and it was all sharp and real, with jagged edges.
“I’m sorry,” Girard said, warmth in his voice. He reached a hand across and clasped hers where they were knotted together on her lap. “That must have been really difficult. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there.”
“You needed to heal,” Hallie said firmly, turning her hand to return his clasp for a moment before he put his hand back on the steering wheel. “And, honestly, I am not sure even the whole tactical team would have done any good, the mood my mother was in.”
“Are you in danger, going back into low city?” Girard asked, sending her a sharp, sideways glance.
“No more than usual,” Hallie said, attempting to lighten the mood with some dark humour. It didn’t seem to reassure Girard, so she went on. “As long as I stay out of Talbot vine territory, it will be fine. She was embarrassed last night, which won’t have done her temper any good, but even then I can’t see her sending her thugs to snatch me up in the middle of the day. The address we’re going to is far outside the Talbot territory.”
“Would someone in low city turn you over to her?” Girard asked.
“Like a skip tracer, you mean?” Hallie asked, and half-laughed. “That would be more than a little ironic, wouldn’t it? Ah, no. Skip tracers don’t work for cheap, and my mother isn’t about to spend money on me.”
“I’m sorry,” Girard said again.
A dozen flippant replies danced through Hallie’s mind, but she took a careful breath and matched his sincerity. “Thank you.” Then, because she didn’t want to sit with the pain, she brightened her tone. “I was more worried about Rosalia, but it seems that half of low city is looking out for her. Even a couple of the local gangs. Her bakery has made her extremely popular.”
“Her skills as a cook are remarkable,” Girard agreed, matching her lighter tone. “And if anything can bring people together, it’s good food.” He paused for a moment and then changed the subject. “Remind me who were are going to visit now and what we know about her.”
“Zurine Halinburn,” Hallie answered promptly. “Owns and operates a dress shop in the richest part of low city. Has been there for about a decade, from what I can tell. Nothing remarkable about her, from the city records I could access. Nothing to suggest she might be a master forger. But I trust my source.”
“It’s a good front for a criminal business,” Girard commented. “I’m curious as to how she’s managed to stay unnoticed for such a long time.”
