“Please call me Girard,” he said, getting to his feet. Hallie rose with him. “Won’t you join us?”
“Can’t, unfortunately,” Gin said, with what Hallie could tell was genuine regret. “I’ve got a handful of teams out and need to be around the office. I just came here for some fresh air and to get some of Rosalia’s soup before everyone else gets here.”
“It is very good soup,” Hallie agreed. “It sounds like you’re busy.”
Gin smiled, more than a little mischief in her face. “Well, I’ve had to hire two people to replace you, and even then they aren’t half as good. If you even get tired of your new life, you let me know and there will always be a job for you here.”
Hallie laughed, and shook her head. “I’m glad you’re being kept busy, but I don’t think I’ll be getting bored anytime soon.”
“I imagine not.” Gin paused, and Hallie tensed slightly, wondering what she might say next. As the older sister, Gin had been in line to take over the family vine, but hadn’t stood in the way or opposed Wilona, and had remained a loyal member of the vine for as long as Hallie could remember. “Wilona might not be happy that you’ve got out of the vine, but I am. I hope you getto see the world and show those stuck-uphochlenjust what uskarlenare made of.”
“I will do my best,” Hallie said, an unexpected sting in her eyes. With another person, she’d have been tempted to step forward and share a hug, but this was Gin, and she would not welcome such a gesture. “Thank you.”
“You take care of our girl, now,” Gin said to Girard, face and voice stern. “She’s one of a kind.”
“She is, indeed. And I will do my best,” Girard said gravely.
Rosalia came around the counter as if on cue, carrying a tray with bowls of soup and bread, setting it down on the table. She smiled at Gin. “I’ve got your order set up for you, Gin, when you’re ready.”
“Ready now,” Gin said, and headed across to the counter with Rosalia, accepting a large paper bag. She headed out of the bakery, pausing to send a brisk nod in Hallie’s direction before she left.
Rosalia called her assistant out from the back of the bakery to deal with any customers while she took a break, then sat down with Hallie and Girard to have her own lunch. Hallie felt her heart lighten at her friend’s obvious joy in her new life, and couldn’t help laughing as Rosalia started asking questions.
The rest of the city, and the world, might not know exactly what had happened in the Conclave building, but even the restricted news in low city had reported that some monumental changes had taken place, and Rosalia wanted to know as much as Hallie and Girard could tell her, and all about the Conclave building, what Cotovatre had served at her party, and a thousand other things.
Settled with excellent food and company, knowing that her freedom was secure and that the Conclave was as safe as it could be, the lively conversation was the perfect way to chase away the last lingering effects of her meeting with Wilona.
After lunch, Hallie and Girard had filled the car with boxes from Rosalia, the interior of the car scented with vanilla and fresh bread and a dozen other scents that Hallie couldn’t identify as Girard drove them back to high city.
There hadn’t been a lot of time between getting back to the apartment buildings and needing to get ready for the evening, but Hallie was glad she’d taken the time to shower and change, putting on one of the tunic top and trouser sets that Cotovatre had given her, along with a knee-length soft coat to ward off the likely chill of the night air.
She’d then helped Girard unload the car and add Rosalia’s baking to the vast array of food that was being gathered. Everyone was bringing something.
Before the party truly got underway, and while there was still a bit of daylight, Girard invited Hallie to take a walk with him through the gardens that wove around the apartment building they now lived in. The gardens actually laced around several apartment buildings, providing the illusion of privacy as well as delightfully scented fresh air. Hallie was somehow both shocked and not surprised to find that the gardens stretched farther than she had imagined possible, including a small lake and several copses of fully mature trees.
By the time their exploration was done, night had fallen.
If the gardens had been lovely in the daylight, they were enchanting at night. Tiny lights had been strung in some of the trees and along the edges of the flower borders, providing just enough light forhochleneyes to walk without falling over. Trestle tables had been set up by the forensic team and, over the course of the hour or so as the party got underway, the tableshad filled to overflowing with drinks and food. Someone - Hallie suspected the forensic technician Brennus Bowen - had brought a speaker which was playing soft music as a backdrop to the laughter and chatter that was scattered all around.
Hallie stood next to Girard, part of a group that included Isoud and Leodegan, her arm linked through Girard’s, the slight breeze stirring her hair so that it brushed his shoulder. He didn’t seem to mind.
“We finally identified that drug,” Isoud said, into a lull in conversation.
“The one that the insurgents had all been given,” Leodegan added, perhaps reading the confusion on Hallie’s face. The medical examiner shook his head. “Very rare. And nasty stuff. It would have killed them in the end.”
“Finding out that Hoel was behind it gave us our best lead,” Isoud said. “The drug was made from a rare sea creature that is only found off one of the islands in Hoel’s homeland.”
“Can you treat the people?” Hallie asked. Last she had heard, all the humans that Hoel had recruited to his cause were under medical care and some were unable to move at all.
“Now that we know where it came from, yes,” Leodegan said. “We should have them all fully treated and ready for questioning in a few days.”
“Sounds like we’ll have some interrogations to do,” Hallie said, looking at Girard.
“Seems likely,” he agreed easily. “At least they won’t be shooting at us this time.”
“Did I hear that you got a market stall dropped on you?” Leodegan asked, mischief in his face and voice. “And id didn’t even crack that hard head of yours?”
They all laughed as Girard shook his head, a hint of colour in his face at the good-natured teasing.
