He stood in the midst of a circle of nobles, each vying for his attention. Their voices were raised, but the Pontiff did not speak. He did not need to. His presence spread around him like the ripples from a pebble dropped into water; ponderous and grave. I forced myself to step forward, to tilt my chin just enough to be noticed.
“Your Eminence,” I said, with as much assurance as I could muster.
He turned, surprised.
“Young lady,” he said. “I do not believe I’ve had the pleasure. You are Foley’s … friend, are you not?”
No.
“Yes, Your Holiness,” I said, dropping as deep a curtsey as I could manage. He inclined his head very slightly in acknowledgement. “Forgive me for interrupting.”
He looked around at the obsequious young men surrounding him and waved his hand, dismissing them. “No need to apologize, my dear. The interruption is quite welcome.” He retreated to a nearby sofa and patted the seat beside him. “Please, sit.”
“Thank you, Your Holiness.” I smoothed my skirts over my lap and put a hand up to my Hair, hoping it would stay in place. “I was hoping to speak to you.”
“So I see. I must confess I was looking for a reason to sit down and have some peace and quiet, and so I suppose I owe you a debt of gratitude.” He gave a smile of disarming sweetness. He could have been someone’s kindly grandfather but for the hint of steel behind his eyes.
I knew Patrick would have advised me to be subtle, to dance around the subject and gather information discreetly—but I didn’t want anything to do with Patrick or his methods right then. I tried to smile just as sweetly as the Pontiff as I said, “I am Persinette Edevane, daughter of Margotte Edevane, and I want you to tell me where my mother is.”
The high Pontiff of all the Temple turned the full blaze of his attention on me, all grandfatherliness gone.
“I beg your pardon?” he said in a tone of mild interest, but his eyes skewered me to my seat.
“I know that my mother’s spellbook is in your possession,” I said. “And I think you know where she is. I want to negotiate her release.”
He glanced around the room sharply, taking in the curious eyes that watched us. No one could overhear, but there was no doubt we were noticed.
“How bold,” he murmured. “What makes you think I have any idea where your mother is, little mage?”
“I have seen her letters,” I said. “I know you have herspellbook—the one she has been working on since I was a child. I don’t care about the book. But I do care about my mother.”
“This is hardly the time or place,” he said.
“Then name the time and place.”
The Pontiff’s gaze did not waver. “You have been spending too much time with Ban Foley,” he said. “Speaking of whom.”
“Netta,” came a familiar, silken voice, close to my ear.
I turned my head to find Patrick standing beside me, his expression carefully neutral, though his eyes were anything but. They swept over me, taking in my flushed cheeks, the empty goblet dangling precariously from my fingers.
“I see I must bid you goodnight, my lady,” said the Pontiff. “I am about to depart. I’m afraid that, at my advanced age, a comfortable chair and a good book hold more charm than glittering soirées like these. Good evening, Foley.” He nodded a farewell and started for the door, followed by his personal guard. Patrick gripped me by the arm.
“Allow me to escort you to your rooms,my lady. You must be tired.”
My pride bristled at his tone: at the implication that I was anything less than in control. I pulled my arm away, wobbling only slightly. “I’m perfectly fine,my lord. You needn’t trouble yourself.”
Patrick’s lips curved into an unpleasant, knowing smile that only irritated me further. “I insist,” he said smoothly, his grip light but unescapable as he guided me inexorably out of the ballroom. “Let’s get you to bed before the high lords start wagering as to who will carry you there.”
I had little choice. With an exasperated huff, I allowed him to lead me out. Baldbeak flapped behind us, pausing to snap up one last canapé before alighting on my shoulder again.
“Were you displeased with how I conducted myself with the Pontiff,my lord?” I said under my breath.
“Wait until we are out of the room at least,” he hissed.
“I thought you would be proud. You are such an expert in deception.”
We were out of sight of the ballroom now. I shook him off and took the stairs two at a time to get ahead of him. He followed me all the way to my room.
