"This icarus has positively identified you as the man who attacked her," he snapped, in Demican. "Do you understand me?"
The wounded man took a labored breath.
"I understand."
"You were working with two Alzanans."
"They left me to die."
"Of course," Amcathra agreed. "What else would you expect from a Southerner? A warrior should choose honorable companions, not thieves."
"I am shamed." The man fought for breath again, lips pale. "Please do not tell my family."
"Who were your partners?"
"Delfo," the man husked. "And Miceli. Delfo had the net. Leader."
"Where did you meet them?"
"A bar in Slagside. Red door."
"Name?"
"I do not know."
Amcathra nodded.
"Very well. I will return with an artist for a better description later. Rest and heal, warrior. You may live to regain your honor, if you are lucky."
The man nodded once and closed his eyes. Taya slipped next to Amcathra and touched the man's hand.
"You fought well," she said, also in Demican.
The man pried his eyes open once more, looking at her.
"And you," he replied, formally. "But the gun. That is not a warrior's weapon."
"It will be," Amcathra predicted, and then drew her away. "Come," he said, switching back to Ondinium. "Let him rest. I do not believe he will trouble you again."
Taya waited until they were outside. "Will he go free, if you catch the Alzanans?"
"That will depend upon the judge. Maybe he will die of his wounds."
Taya made a face at the Demican's cold pragmatism. "I hope not."
"You will not be found at fault, if he does. Your testimony and that of Exalted Forlore makes it clear that you acted in self defense."
"Forlore — you mean, Alister? The decatur?"
"No."
"Cristof?"
"Yes. I will ask him to identify the man tomorrow, also, but it is only to be thorough."
She made a face. "Icarii get called away from their dinners, but exalteds get to wait until morning?"
"Victims are called without delay, and secondary witnesses are allowed to wait until the next day," Amcathra corrected her. "Exalted Forlore's testimony is of less importance than yours."
"I'm sorry," Taya said at once. "That makes sense."
"You will tell your friend that we did not beat or brainwash you or your attacker."
Taya laughed. "I said I was sorry! But yes, I'll tell him."
"You were kind to compliment the prisoner's fighting, though he does not deserve such honor."
"Well, he probably would have killed me, if… if Exalted Forlore hadn't come along and shot him."
"Someday guns will come to Demicus," Amcathra said, with a touch of regret in his voice. "Every Demican will kill with the twitch of a finger, and a warrior's bravery will mean nothing."
"Ondinium doesn't sell arms."
"Not all countries are so cautious. If our elders are wise, they will seek guidance from the Council of Ondinium before Demicus embraces foreign weapons."
"They wouldn't do that, would they? I thought Demicans believed Ondinium is hell." Demican legends of hell included stories of black skies and flying spirits.
"Ondinium may be hell, but it is an orderly hell. Demicus will not be so orderly, once guns arrive."
Chapter Six
The day before the party passed quickly, with a note from Alister apologizing for not being able to see her but assuring her that he was looking forward to a dance. On the day of the ball, Taya and Cassi took a half-day off so Taya could return to Jayce's shop for last-minute tailoring and grooming.
"Good, good," Jayce murmured, seeing them come in shortly after noon, accompanied by a famulate hairdresser. "We're still finishing the sewing, but I'm glad you're here early."
"Do you have plans for Taya's hair?" Cassi demanded, pushing Taya down into a chair.
"Nothing that requires a particular style."
"Good."
"Bad," the hairdresser objected. "Look at how short this is! What am I supposed to do with it, then?"
"Make it gorgeous." Cassi turned to her nephew and began grilling him about the dress. The hairdresser rolled her eyes and combed her fingers through Taya's loose curls.
"Well," she said, "at least the color is interesting. I don't work with auburn very often. Mareaux, are you?"
"On my father's side. He was born a citizen," she added. To some Ondiniums, that mattered.
"Good you inherited his fair skin, then, ain't it?" the hairdresser commented, holding her coppery hand against Taya's hair. "Could be worse."
"I'm glad I'm not a complete disaster," Taya said.
"But it could be better," Jayce shot over his shoulder. "You could have green eyes. Or blue. I could work with blue. But red hair and jet-black eyes? Lady save us from mixed blood. And your figure!"
Taya slumped in her chair. All right. So she was a complete disaster.
By the time evening arrived, Taya understood why vigilante heroes in plays wore masks. She'd been poked, pinched, pinned, primped and put down to within an inch of her life. The next time she rescued someone, she was going to sneak off without telling anyone her name. That way she wouldn't have to dress up for a thank-you party.
"I can't do this," she said with despair, setting down the bowl of soup that Cassi had handed her. "I'm going to say something stupid and embarrass myself."
"Oh, don't be silly. You're the guest of honor." Cassi leaned over and patted her knee. "Exalted Octavus owes you her life, so short of throwing up all over the banquet table, there's nothing you can do that's going to offend her."
"Great." Taya looked at her bowl. "Is that why you're making me eat now? So I won't throw up?"
"No. I'm doing it because you're not going to be able to eat a thing once we strap you into that corset. Besides, it's more ladylike if all you do is nibble."
"Ladylike." Taya groaned. "I don't think I can do ladylike."
"You will do ladylike," Cassi's nephew commanded, in a voice like steel. He walked up, the dress draped over one arm. "You don't have a choice. Cassi, I'm going to sew her into this. You'll have to cut her out of it tonight. Use the back seam."
"So much for seducing that handsome decatur," Cassi said with mock sorrow.
Taya's cheeks burned.
"Once you're out of this dress, you're not getting back into it." Jayce pondered a moment. "However… it would be good for business if you seduced a decatur while you were wearing it. Very well. I give you my permission. But you'll have to wear something of his to get back home. And for the Lady's sake, bring me back whatever scraps you can salvage."
"I'm not going to seduce anyone!" Taya protested, her blush deepening.
"Well, I'm sleeping on your bed tonight," Cassi warned her, "so if you don't come home, I expect to hear all the details."
"What kind of person do you think I am, anyway?"
"A sexually deprived one," Cassi said, archly. "You and Pyke never got anywhere."
Taya drew in a sharp breath. "Did he tell you that? I'll kill him!"
"Ah-hah! It's true!"
"Cassi!"
"I was just checking," her friend said, sounding complacent. "I don't want to sleep with someone you've already slept with. It'd be tacky."
"Ladies," Jayce snarled, "we have two hours until the party. Divvy up your men while I sew."
One hour before the party, Taya stood in front of a mirror feeling more frightened than she had at any point during the aerial rescue.
"I don't dare move," she said, staring at herself.
Jayce and his assistants had decided to dress her in white and gold because "exalts always wear jewel tones. I want you to stand out." The top half of the dress was a slender, low-necked sheath that hugged her chest and waist like a second skin, growing looser on her hips to become a slit skirt that gave her room to walk. A tight corset beneath the dress kept her back straight and pulled her waist in another inch. Taya blinked at the unaccustomed sight of her cleavage being pushed up and out. Maybe she wasn't as flat-chested as Jayce had led her to believe. Of course, she couldn't breathe, but she thought the trade-off might be worth it.