Once again she paused in front of Renn’s shrine and wished she had a second candle to burn. “Is this your prodding on some kind of a path?” she asked. “Are you even real?” If someone had asked her to conceptualize Renn just a few days ago she would have laughed at them. Now she wasn’t so sure.
Thessa reached down and pulled the schematics out of her boot. She’d memorized them in that cart north of Grent just a few days ago, and spent the last few hours going over them again. In her head, she’d already begun work on improving Kastora’s design. All she needed now was a place to practice her theories.
She walked out into chilly late-morning air that caused goose bumps across her bare arms. Demir stood in the middle of the street, face raised to the sun. He’d put the glove back on to cover his glassdancer sigil, and he didn’t open his eyes until she was standing next to him.
Demir saw what was in her hands and inhaled sharply. “Are those them?” he asked.
She shook them at him wordlessly, and he took the stack. He looked through the schematics carefully, one page at a time. “Incredible,” he finally said. “I’ve been trying to make sense of the destroyed prototype. Seeing these, it all fits together.”
“One other thing,” Thessa told him, “before I forget. Craftsman Magna kept ledgers of everything illicit going on at the Ivory Forest. Supi Magna was involved. I was forced to burn them, but no one knows I burnt them. That information alone might be valuable.”
“It might,” he agreed. He held the schematics out in front of him like they were a religious artifact, flipping back and forth through the pages. He finally said, “If anyone finds out what we’re up to, we’ll be in for a fight. I’m dangerous. Montego is dangerous. But we’re only two men, and the greater guild-families have whole armies of enforcers at their disposal. If you decide to do this with me, your life will be in danger.”
Thessa found her mouth dry and licked her lips. “Kastora always told me that there was danger in progress. Someone will always try to steal from you, or thwart you, or hurt you. This is no different.” With a start, Thessa realized he was giving her one last chance to back out. She shook her head. This was too important. No siliceer of any good conscience or ambition would step away from this project. She considered herself both. “I’ll take that risk.”
A flicker of a smile crossed Demir’s expression, and she wondered if she’d just passed a test of sorts. He turned his attention back to the schematics. “Then we’ll begin immediately. Or rather, you will. I’m not going to be much help with the actual siliceering.”
“We’ll need supplies.”
“Omniglass and cinderite, right? We’re already working on it.”
Thessa raised her eyebrows in surprise. Both ingredients were difficult to get ahold of, especially a specimen of cinderite as big as specified in the schematics. “I’m impressed.”
“I made a deal with an old friend,” Demir said with a wink. There it was again: something playful, as if he’d just switched masks for a brief second. How very strange. Thessa glanced down at her borrowed clothes, feeling suddenly self-conscious. She had, she realized, nothing in the world. For the second time in her life, she would start over completely.
No, not completely. She had skills, schematics for an impossible dream, and someone who wanted to fund the use of both. Demir handed her back the schematics. She took them and almost instinctively moved to roll them up and stuff them back in her boot before remembering she didn’t have to do that anymore. Instead she clutched them in one hand and, on impulse, thrust out the other. “Partners?”
To her relief, Demir grinned and took her hand again. “Partners.”
27
After two days of trying to get in touch with Demir without luck, Kizzie was finally given the nod from Breenen and sent up to Demir’s second-floor office at the Hyacinth Hotel. The room was sparsely decorated, the shelves empty, looking like he’d just moved in and hadn’t had time to unpack. As she entered she found him staring at one of the hammerglass windows, a scowl on his face. He looked pale, as if he’d just come out the other end of an illness.
There was a young woman in his office with him. Pretty, with dirty-blond hair and light provincial skin, and of medium height. Kizzie might have taken her for Demir’s paramour if her arms weren’t covered with the old burn scars of a siliceer. Definitely not Demir’s type. Or was she? Demir had changed a lot over the years.
“Thessa, could you give us just a moment?” Demir asked the young woman. “Find Breenen at the front desk. He’ll get you set up with your own room.” He waited until she was gone, then said to Kizzie, “Sorry, we just arrived a few minutes ago.”
Kizzie raised an eyebrow at him, with the implicit question, to which Demir just shook his head. “Charming, but no. New business partner. Any progress on those killers?”
“You could say that.” Kizzie sat down on a sofa facing Demir, passing her hand across her face. She’d gotten some rest over the last two days but she still felt plenty unsettled from the events of the last week. “I’ve found two of them.”
This got his attention. Demir perked up, sitting up straight in his chair with an eager look on his face. “Do I know them? Who were they working for? What did…” He paused, seemed to gather his composure, and nodded at her to continue.
Kizzie didn’t mince words. “Churian Dorlani was the first. A vendor identified him because his mask fell off while he fled the scene. I cornered and questioned him with the shackleglass.”
“And?” Demir’s eagerness had gone, as if he’d pulled on a carefully prepared mask.
“And he admitted it. The order came from his grandmother.”
“Aelia Dorlani?”
“Correct. He didn’t know why she wanted your mother dead, but he was able to give me one of the other killers. Glissandi Magna. She also admitted to the killing, but when I tried to force her to tell me why, she killed herself on my stiletto.”
“Glassdamn,” Demir said quietly, covering his mouth with one hand and staring off into the space over Kizzie’s head. “Do you have another lead?”
“Not yet, but I’m working on it.”
“What did you do with Churian?”
“I told him if he didn’t flee the country, I’d tell Montego that he killed Adriana.”
“And did he?”
“Without an ozzo to his name.”
Demir drummed his fingers on his chin. “Perhaps not harsh enough, but there’s a certain poetry in that. What to do about Aelia, though?”
“That,” Kizzie replied pointedly, “is beyond me. She’s a matriarch on the Inner Assembly. If you want to ask her then you have to do it yourself.”
“Noted. For now, she’ll be wondering why her grandson abandoned his home and family. I’ll let that paranoia fester.” A wicked little smile flashed across his face, one that Kizzie returned. She had, she had to admit, become more invested in this thing than she’d expected. There was a deeper mystery going on underneath all of this. Multiple guild-families, Grent, that tall man at the Lampshade Boardwalk. It was a puzzle begging to be solved.
“I think,” Kizzie said, “that Glissandi was being followed.” Demir cocked an eyebrow at her, so she explained, “The moment before she killed herself, she saw someone on the boardwalk. I didn’t get a good look thanks to the dark, but she kept her eyes on him as she died.”