Taziri raised her hands. “It doesn’t have to be right this second.”
“Of course it does.” Detective Massi groaned. She rocked about stiffly under the sheets trying to get comfortable, and Taziri could see the bulges of the bandages around her arms and chest. Her voice rasped and whispered like someone desperate to fall asleep. “There are things the marshals need to know, things you all need to know. But first I need to know something. Did you find another person at the fire?”
Silence.
“No?” Massi frowned at them. “A woman in a white coat? Missing an eye?”
Heads shook.
“Damn.” The detective gingerly prodded the gauze packed around her shoulder. “All right, pilot, ask your questions.”
“Engineer, actually. Lieutenant Taziri Ohana. It’s nice to meet you, detective.” She cleared her throat. “The marshals are looking to arrest Ambassador Barika Chaou. She was responsible for the attack on the train station and airfield in Tingis two days ago. We know she has some connection to an Espani doctor named Medina here in Arafez. That name brought us to the scene of the fire this morning, which brought us to you. Were you investigating Medina? Do you know anything about her connections to the ambassador?”
Massi chewed at the inside of her cheek for a moment. “All right, here’s the short version. A woman named Jedira Amadi came to me yesterday with a story. Amadi said her boss, Doctor Medina, was torturing animals in the basement of the shop. Thing is, Lady Sade had already told me about that research, so I sent Amadi home. But I did a little digging anyway and an hour later, a Persian tried to kill me for sticking my nose where it didn’t belong. His friend in the white coat killed Usem and Amadi.”
Jedira? The girl from last night? Taziri stiffened. She looked down at the brace on her left arm. Was that my fault too, somehow?
Massi coughed. “I made it to the basement and saw the animals, tons of them, all dead, all carved up and jammed full of strange machines. Like something out of an Espani ghost story, but with machines instead of demons. Some of you need to get down to that shop and start digging through the wreckage. Dig right down into the basement.”
“Dig for what?”
“Those bodies I saw. They’re evidence. Evidence of what, I don’t know, but they’re evidence. And when we figure out what was really going on there…” A silent snarl curled Massi’s broken lips.
There was a suddenly rumble of discussion and three officers dashed from the room. Taziri watched them go, and then looked down at the detective. Her face was mostly overlapping bruises, her lips alternately thin and puffy, and both eyes bloodshot. “Thank you, detective. Is there anything else you can tell me about Medina or Chaou?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
Taziri nodded and touched the young officer’s arm. “I’m going to need that address now.”
He stood up and straightened his jacket. “Absolutely.”
Chapter 32. Lorenzo
As he stepped out the servant’s door beside the kitchen of Lady Sade’s manor house, the midday sun glared in Lorenzo’s eyes and he quickly set his wide-brimmed hat on his head. He couldn’t be certain whether the air would be warm or cool to a local, but to him it was rapidly becoming uncomfortably sultry. With a glance at his surroundings so he could be sure to find his way back, the hidalgo set out down the quiet back street that ran behind several large estates.
“Enzo!”
He stopped short and turned. Qhora stood in the doorway he had just left. She was wearing the purple dress he had given her, the light cotton one with the high collar. And for once, her feathered cloak looked almost fitting over her Espani clothing.
“My lady?”
She walked up to him with a stern squint, but he could not tell whether her look indicated her mood or merely that the sun was in her eyes. “Where are you going?”
Lorenzo said, “The cook told me about a butcher shop a few blocks away. This butcher has a meat locker that I’d like to see.”
“You’re running errands for Lady Sade’s cook?” Qhora moved around him to stand in his shadow and once in the shade her expression softened considerably. “Or is this how you intend to explore the culture and hospitality of our hosts? By touring their butcher shops?”
“It’s just a curiosity. The meat locker is walled with ice, which they keep cold with some sort of machine.”
A look of understanding passed over her eyes and Lorenzo’s chest tightened as he prepared for the inevitable lecture. But instead she said, “You want to be somewhere cold. Can I come with you?”
“You’d be bored. I’m just going to pray. I’ll be back soon.”
“Praying in meat lockers.” She stared into his eyes for a moment. “Can anyone see these ghosts of yours, or only the Espani?”
“Anyone, I suppose. But only in the cold and in the dark. Ghosts are fragile things. Too much light and heat makes the aether fade apart into the air.”
“And if I come with you now, will I see her? Will I see Ariel?”
It struck him then for the first time that in all the long months together in Espana and the several times he had spent long evenings with Ariel, Qhora had never seen the lingering revenant. Indeed, she had never seen any ghosts. Probably because she never strays from the fire, never goes walking at night. “If she comes, you will see her. Do you want to see her?”
“Yes. I want to understand why she has this hold over you.”
She doesn’t believe me at all. She thinks I’m delusional. She wants to bring this to a head, to have a final fight, to force me back into being the person I was when we first met. Lorenzo glanced around the quiet alleyway for some sign, some inspiration, some help. There was none, and he stammered, “I’ve tried to tell you. She has no hold on me, not in the way that you mean. She’s just showed me the story of her life, images and feelings, her memories. And it’s made me see my own life in a very different way, a way I’m not proud of.”
Qhora started to object but he plowed on, the words tumbling out almost faster than he could think of them. “Ariel lived a pure life, the life of a nun devoted to charity and compassion. She fed the hungry, clothed the poor, tended the sick, and ministered to thieves and killers. She lived without fear, without sin, without doubt. She walked the righteous path. She did all the things the priests tell us to do but no one actually does. Ariel has shown me that holiness and purity aren’t just words. They’re real. And I am so far from them, so far below them. And it wasn’t just her charitable works. She wrote sermons and letters and hymns. She taught children to read. She studied the heavens themselves with some sort of telescope given to her by the king himself. One night she saw a falling star and she mapped where it was and led an expedition to find it. The skyfire stone, she called it. She never found it, but the point is that she tried. She did all these things for other people, all these selfless and noble things, all in the name of God, and what have I done with my life? What? Killed men? Taught other men to kill men?”
There was pain in Qhora’s eyes, but there was iron there too as she said, “Take me with you. Let me meet her.”
If Ariel had been a living woman, Lorenzo would have feared for her safety as he heard the hard resolve in the princess’s voice. He swallowed and asked, “Why?”
Qhora took his hand. Her skin was rough and dry, but warm. She said, “You are the finest man I have ever met. Brave and noble, dedicated and loyal, skilled and strong. But if that isn’t enough for you anymore, if this ghost has given you a reason to turn your back on everything you once cared about, then I want to meet her. If Ariel is so important to you, then she is important to me as well, my love. It is past time that I met her.”
“Here? Now?”
“Here. Now.”
He thought there was probably more to say at that moment before they went any farther, but he didn’t want to fight and a part of him really did want Qhora to see Ariel, to put the two of them together face to face, especially if it meant he would no longer be standing directly between their competing needs, if only for a moment or two. So he nodded and led the way down the street.