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“Why are we here?” She straightened in her seat and looked at the Count. “I don’t understand any of this, and especially the alleged involvement of a woman who practically raised me.” She turned to her uncle. “You understand, Uncle Phineas. Tell him he’s wrong?”
“I wish I could, my dear. I very much wish I could.” He rested his hand on her arm. “But it’s the truth. I played a part in all this, so I know.”
“What part?”
“More than a few years ago, before you went to Tidehold, and when I was still in residence, I kept many of my old books and manuscripts in a small room off the servant’s quarters.”
“I remember,” answered Maelin. “It was dusty, smelled funny, and had a very small window at the top of one wall.”
He nodded. “That’s it. Yes. Those old books were quite valuable, and I thought they were safe where they were. But when I decided to...er...relocate to my club, I thought it would be best to remove all those books and store them in a place more suited to their age and importance.”
“So while I was gone you moved them?”
“I did. But as I began the process, I discovered that several were missing.” He sighed. “And that troubled me a great deal, because one of them contained a treatise on a technology that involved using human body parts with...with...”
“Machines,” breathed Maelin.
“Yes, my dear. Machines. It went into detail about not only body parts, but blood...different strengths, how they could be combined...it was all very technical, but given the age of the papers and the content? There was never a doubt in my mind that it was connected to the Rhovan.”
“But...”
Her Uncle held up his hand. “I know. I should have either destroyed it or given it to someone who could protect it better. But...” He paused for a ragged breath. “Content aside, I had to face the fact that there was a thief in my house. And so I began a sort of surveillance on the little room, with the help of one or two people I trusted implicitly.”
Maelin swallowed, harshly, and Cyrus realised she was coming to accept her Uncle’s story.
“You saw Darady,” she stated, her voice expressionless.
“Well, not personally, no, but three people, independently of one another, saw her enter that room and emerge carrying something beneath her apron. And before you suggest otherwise... yes, it was part of one of my books. Sometime after this particular observation, she returned upstairs one afternoon carrying another bundle, but was forced to put it down when a made was scalded nearby. A footman helping at the scene noticed the crest on the uppermost page. It was our crest.” He shrugged. “The lad came to me, and I’m glad he did, since I then verified her actions.”
Maelin was silent for a moment or two. Then frowned. “And yet you never said anything to her? Stopped her?”
“He couldn’t, Mae. Think about it. It was unlikely Darady was taking these papers for herself. So that left a very big question, didn’t it?” Cyrus kept his voice steady.
She bit her lip, then nodded. “Who was she giving them to?”
“And why,” added her Uncle.
“And what did she say? You must have questioned her...” Maelin turned to the Count. “You wouldn’t have made this announcement if you didn’t have some answers?”
“That’s a logical assumption, my Lady, but in this case...Miss Darady has refused to speak or answer questions. We’ve found that frustrating, as you can imagine. But the other facets of this case—the killings—we had to make a decision. Our people needed to know we had found the person delivering those victims to their deaths.”
“The larger Rhovan connection is another matter. Revealing that before we understand it might cause panic, and possibly alert whoever stands behind her. It would be reviving a time that brought nothing but violence and death with it. Besides, we all feel that Darady has to be a link to something or someone also involved, but we cannot yet make any connections that would help us unless she is more forthcoming.”
“And that’s where you come in, my Lady.” The Count managed a weak smile.
“You want me to talk to her. Get information from her,” said Maelin.
Cyrus moved even closer. “You may be the only one she’ll talk to, Mae. And the more she says, the easier it will go with her.”
For a brief moment she leaned against him, then straightened. “It’s hard to believe the reality of all this, so yes, I’ll talk to her. I need to hear her side, since at the moment I’ve only listened to you all indict her.” She nodded. “I want to hear her side.”
The Count rose. “All right. With one provision. You cannot be alone with her.”
“I’ll stay,” said Cyrus immediately.
She turned to him. “There’s nobody I’d rather have at my side right now, Cyrus, and you know that.” She gently touched his cheek. “But this...this madness...it concerns the Theryns. So, if you’ll forgive me, I’d rather Uncle Phineas be here, in case she says something he understands...and we wouldn’t.”
Cyrus stared at her, and then nodded. He couldn’t have loved her more than he did at that moment. He understood. It would have been very easy to rely on his presence, but not his Mae. She had pushed aside her emotions, looked at the situation through those clear and practical silver-blue eyes, and made the right decision.
