But when he turned to me, I saw the mark and stared, because it was complete. All the scripts I remembered: the contract binding the Enefadeh to the protection and service of Shahar’s direct descendants, the compulsion that forced Arameri to remain loyal to their family head… all of it. But why did only this man, out of all the Central Family, wear the mark in its original form?
“Well, well,” he said, his eyes raking me with the same quick analysis.
“Sorry,” I said uneasily. “Didn’t know anyone was up here. I’ll try someplace else.”
“You’re the godling,” he said, and I stopped in surprise. He smiled thinly. “I think you must remember how difficult it is to keep a secret in this place.”
“I managed, in my day.”
“Indeed you did. And a good thing that was, or you would never have gotten free of us.”
I lifted my chin, feeling annoyed and belligerent. “Is that really a good thing in the eyes of a fullblood?”
“Yes.” He shifted then, setting aside the large, handsomely bound book that had been in his lap. “I’ve just been reading about you and your fellow Enefadeh, actually, in honor of your arrival. My ancestors really had a monster by the tail, didn’t they? I feel exceedingly fortunate that you were released before I had to deal with you.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to understand my own wariness. “Why don’t I like you?”
The man blinked in surprise, then smiled again with a hint of irony. “Maybe because, if you were still a slave and I your master, you’re the one I would put the shortest leash on.”
I wasn’t sure if that was it, but it didn’t help. I had never trusted mortals who guessed at how dangerous I was. That usually meant they were just as dangerous. “Who are you?”
“My name is Ramina Arameri.”
I nodded, reading the lines of his face and the frame of his bones. “Remath’s brother?” No, that wasn’t quite right.
“Half brother. Her father was the last family head. Mine wasn’t.” He shrugged dismissively. “How could you tell?”
“You look Central Family. You smell like her. And you feel”—I glanced at his forehead—“like power that has been leashed.”
“Ah.” He touched his forehead with a self-deprecating little smile. “This does make it obvious, doesn’t it? True sigils were the norm in your day, I understand.”
“True sigils?” I frowned. “What do they call those trimmed-down ones, then?”
“Theirs are called semisigils. Aside from Remath, I am the only member of the family who currently wears a true sigil.” Ramina looked away, his gaze falling on a flock of birds swirling around a Tree branch in the distance. They took off, gliding away, and he followed their slow, steady flight. “It was given to me when my sister took her place as head of the family.”
I understood then. The true sigil enforced loyalty to the family head at the cost of the wearer’s will. Ramina could no more act against his sister’s interests than he could command the sun to set.
“Demons,” I said, feeling an unexpected pity for him. “Why didn’t she just kill you?”
“Because she hates me, I suppose.” Ramina was still watching the birds; I couldn’t read his expression. “Or loves me. Same effect either way.”
Before I could reply, I heard footsteps on the spiral staircase. We both fell silent as two servants came up, bowing quickly toward Ramina and throwing me uncomfortable looks as they set up a wooden tray and put a large platter of finger foods on it. They left quickly, whereupon I went over to the tray and crammed several items into my mouth. Ramina lifted an eyebrow; I bared my teeth at him. He sniffed a bit and looked away. Good. Bastard.
I was full after only that mouthful, which made me happy because it proved I wasn’t fully mortal yet. So I belched and began licking my fingers, which I hoped would disgust Ramina. Alas, he did not look at me. But a moment later, he glanced toward the steps again as Shahar emerged from the floor entrance. She nodded to me, then spotted Ramina and brightened. “Uncle! What are you doing up here?”
“Plotting to take over the world, obviously,” he said, smiling broadly at her. She went over and hugged him with real affection, which he returned with equal sincerity. “And having a lovely conversation with my new young friend here. Did you come to meet him?”
Shahar sat down beside him, glancing from him to me and back. “Yes, though it’s just as well you’re here. Do you know what’s happened?”
“Happened?”
She sobered. “Nevra and Criscina. They—Soldiers brought the bodies this morning.”
Ramina grimaced, closing his eyes. “How?”
She shook her head. “The masks, again. This time it…” She made a face. “I didn’t see the result, but I smelled it.”
I sat down on a bench opposite them, in the cupola’s shadows, and watched them. The light making an aura of their curls. Their identical looks of sorrow. Yes, it was so obvious I wondered why Remath bothered to try and keep it secret.
Ramina got to his feet and began pacing, his expression ferocious. “Demons and darkness! All the highbloods will be livid, and rightly so. They’ll blame Remath for not finding these bastards.” He stopped abruptly and turned to Shahar, his eyes narrowing. “And you will be in greater danger than ever, Niece, if these attackers have grown that bold. I wouldn’t advise travel for some time.”
She frowned a little at this, but not in a surprised way. No doubt she had been thinking the same thing since the forecourt. “I’m scheduled to go to the Gray this evening, to meet with Lady Hynno.”
The Gray? I wondered.
“Reschedule it.”
“I can’t! I asked for the meeting. If I reschedule, she’ll know something’s wrong, and Mother has decreed that any news of these murders is to remain secret.”
Ramina stopped and looked pointedly at me. I flashed him a winning smile.
Shahar made a sound of exasperation. “She also decreed that I’m to give him whatever he wants.” She glowered at me. “He saw the bodies, anyway.”
“Yes,” I said, “but I would appreciate an explanation to go with those bodies. I take it this sort of thing has happened before?”
Ramina frowned at my forwardness, but Shahar only slumped, not bothering to hide her despair. “Never a fullblood before. But others, yes.”
“Other Arameri?”
“And those who support our interests, sometimes, yes. Always with the masks and always deadly. We’re not even sure how the culprit gets the victims to put the mask on. The effects are different every time, and the masks burn up afterward, as you saw.”
Amazing. In the old days, no one would have dared to kill an Arameri, for fear of the Enefadeh being sent to find and punish the killers. Had the world overcome its fear of the Arameri to that degree in just a few generations? The resilience—and vindictiveness—of mortals would never cease to astound me.
“Who do you think is doing it, then?” I asked. They both threw me irritated looks, and I raised my eyebrows. “Obviously you don’t know, or you would have killed them. But you must suspect someone.”
“No,” said Ramina. He sat down, crossing his legs and tossing his long mane of hair over the back of the seat. He regarded me with active contempt. “If we suspected someone, we would kill them, too.”