"Of course I will," he said, sounding preoccupied.
Taya rolled her eyes and sat down at the desk. "What am I looking for?"
"Anything useful."
They spent two hours going through Caster Octavus's papers and files, searching for anything that might have led to his death. Taya confirmed from his correspondence that he'd intended to vote against the Clockwork Heart.
"Alister really did lie to me," she sighed, leaning back in Caster's oversized leather chair and pulling her legs up.
Cristof set down the file he was perusing.
"He's dead. Making yourself sick over him won't do you any good."
"I'm supposed to be a good judge of character. I have to be, if I'm going to be a diplomatic envoy." She rested her arms on her knees, staring out the window. The autumn sun was already low, although it was only afternoon. "I hate to think a man could just smile at me, and I'd forget everything I've learned about human nature."
"You care what people think, too."
"Not really." She glanced at him, saw his skeptical look, and gave him a rueful smile. "All right. Maybe a little. I don't want people to think I'm an idiot, anyway. And I'm feeling pretty idiotic right now."
"You're not an idiot." He picked up the file again. "I'll tell you when you're an idiot."
"Thanks."
"Just returning the favor."
Well, how about that,
she thought.
He has a sense of humor, after all.
"You sound better."
"Work's therapeutic." He turned a page in the file. Taya nodded, looking out the window again. It was too high up for her to see the Octavus's gardens. All she could see was sky and clouds. A bird flew by.
"Icarus."
"Hmm?"
"I don't have a hidden agenda. Nor do I intend to use you or mislead you with my charm."
Despite herself, she smiled, glancing at him. His face was studiously neutral.
"The day you act charming, I'll know something is wrong."
"Good."
Taya watched him as he looked back down at his work. He still reminded her of a crow, his unruly black hair sticking on end and his black greatcoat wrapped around him. Just like a crow. Loud and mocking, but not without a sardonic sense of humor.
"It's nice to know that you care what I think about you," she added. "And it hasn't even made you do anything stupid yet."
He looked up and blinked at her once, puzzled. Then he realized what she was saying. He frowned.
"Wanting to avoid yet another unfounded accusation isn't the same thing as worrying—"
"Be careful, exalted. You're about to talk yourself into a corner."
"Have you finished looking through all those papers?" he asked peevishly, sticking his beak back into the file he was holding.
They abandoned the office as the sun began to hang low between the mountains. Back in the Octavus foyer, Taya strapped on her icarus armature.
"Did you find anything useful?" Viera asked, holding a sleepy Ariq as they took their leave. Subdued voices from the parlor indicated that she had more visitors.
"A list of his intended votes on upcoming issues, and a better understanding of what kind of man he was," Cristof said. He took her hand and held it a moment. "Caster thought things through very carefully and did his research. I'm impressed."
"I wish you had known each other better." Viera sighed, then leaned forward and kissed his thin cheek. "Good luck, Cris. I'm still annoyed at you, but be careful. Don't let them take anyone else away from me."
"I won't." He returned the kiss and stepped back as Viera hugged Taya, Ariq squirming between them.
"You be careful, too."
"I will." Taya looked down at Ariq. He stared at her, his cheek against his mother's shoulder. "Bye-bye, Ariq. I'll see you later."
They walked down the estate path to the gate. A cold wind blew past them as they stepped out into the street, and long shadows stretched across the cobblestones.
"I told Dispatch I was working with you, so I don't need to report back," Taya said, glancing up at the red-streaked sky. "What time is it?"
"A little past four," Cristof replied, glancing at his gold watch.
"I think the bomber was after Alister." A gust of wind tugged her wings, carrying the faint smell of smoke from the factories far below on Tertius. "There doesn't seem to be any reason to target Exalted Octavus, but Alister was working on all those important programs. Plus, he knew something was going on, even if he thought you were the one involved. He must have said something to tip off the real spy."
"Unfortunately, any proof of that would be up there." Cristof pointed to the isolated Oporphyr Tower. "Do you know how long it will take to fix the wireferry?"
"A week or two, if they can beat the first snow," Taya said. "If it snows, it'll take longer."
"Damn." Cristof stared up at the mountaintop. "That's the next place we need to go to search for clues."
"I could fly up."
Cristof paused, then looked thoughtful as he contemplated her metal wings.
"Would you know what to look for?"
"Anything useful," she said, deadpan. He made a disgusted sound and looked back up at the mountaintop.
"It's too dangerous. We don't know where the killer's hiding."
"I could take you with me." She glanced at the low sun. "But not until dawn."
Cristof's expression grew guarded.
"What do you mean, take me with you?"
"Flying. You know, Alister kept joking about going flying. He wanted me to bring him some wings and take him aloft. I never did, though." If Cristof hadn't been suspended from the investigation, it would be easy to get him to the Tower. But doing it secretly posed some problems. She thought through the problem out loud. "We could leave tomorrow morning, as soon as it gets light. Paulo's on midnight-to-dawn shift. If we're lucky, he'll be dozing and won't notice that we're using the dock. First shift starts when the sun crests the mountain, so we could be long gone before anyone else gets there. If we use guest wings, someone might notice, but check-in and check-out are a little chaotic right now. And it'd be safer than taking somebody's personal wings."
"I'd have to wear wings?"
"Well, it's the only way up. I can counterweight you and keep a safety line between us. You wouldn't be in any danger." She nodded, satisfied. "I think it would work."
"If we're caught—"
"If we're caught, you're going to use every ounce of influence you can muster make sure I'm not grounded for the rest of my life," Taya stated. "I'm willing to help you, but not at the price of my freedom."
For a moment Cristof seemed to debate with himself, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. Then he sighed, pushing the frames back into place again.
"I'm certain that between Viera and I, we can keep you safe from prosecution. And I can't think of any other way we'll be able to search Alister's offices in a timely fashion." He shoved his hands into his pockets, looking down at the street. "Tomorrow morning?"
"We'll kick off the moment you can see your hand in front of your face," she affirmed.
"All right."
"By the way, what did you do with those punch cards?" Taya asked. "Are we going to take them with us?"
"No. I returned them to Lt. Amcathra this morning. I'd prefer to have kept them, but they're safer under lock and key. I've also put in a recommendation that the Labyrinth Code be rewritten as soon as possible."
"Maybe Kyle's team could do it."
"I suggested them."
"That was nice of you."
"I owed it to Alister."
Taya was pleased. Underneath Cristof's prickly exterior and lack of interpersonal skills, he had a sense of fairness she was starting to appreciate.
They fell silent as they walked.
"How did your work go this morning?" Cristof asked, at last. "Did the search teams find anything new?"