Diamond stopped under the big doorway, trying to read the banner.
“That word is ‘Slayer,’ ” Seldom explained. “And the word below is ‘Agency.’”
“Boys, hurry,” Nissim said.
Heavy curtains had been pulled away, revealing a bright room built for giants. One giant stood in the middle of the space, dressed in the slayer’s uniform, heavy goggles dangling around his neck. One carved hand held a long rifle, some kind of spear fitted inside the rifle barrel, and the spear’s tip was triangular and sharp to the eye, even though it was cut from blackwood. Diamond gazed at the wide strong face of the statue, and Seldom asked, “Is that your father?”
He shook his head.
Nissim stopped walking, reaching under his shirt to adjust the butcher’s knife. Then he knelt and looked at Diamond’s face. “Before we go on, I want to ask you again. Do you know who would want to grab you up?”
“Did those men really want him?” Seldom asked.
Nissim’s eyes didn’t leave Diamond. “They were following orders, I think. Somebody else is in charge.”
Diamond looked down. “There was a man.”
“A man.”
“When I was coming here, he was sitting on a bench.”
“Tell me.”
Diamond rubbed his eyes. “He knew my name. He said he was waiting for me.”
“You’re certain?”
“He said my father was his friend. He said that Merit was waiting for me at the Ivory Station.”
“And I suppose this gentleman wanted to take you to your father.”
“But I didn’t believe him.”
Nissim nodded. “Those two who left the blimp at Rail . . . I bet they called their employer with the sorry news that they’d lost track of you. Other people were dispatched, and one of them happened to spot you.”
“List,” said Diamond.
“What?” asked Nissim.
“That was his name.”
“A lot of people are named List,” said Seldom.
“And there was a woman who walked by,” Diamond said. “She knew the man, but she called him ‘Archon.’ ”
The Master took a moment, the dry tongue licking dry lips.
Elata said, “Shit.”
Nissim waved a finger, begging her to stay quiet. Then he got low and said, “Every District has its leader, Diamond. There is a boss, an elected civilian authority. Each one of them is known as the Archon.”
“Ours is a woman,” Elata said.
“She’s nice,” Seldom said, with great confidence.
“But what we’re talking about here . . . this is very, very unlikely.” And with that the Master leaned close, asking, “What did this man look like?”
With words, the boy drew what he saw perfectly—the thin face and its cold odd smile.
“Was his voice low and deep?”
“No.” Diamond shook his head. “It was high, like a bird’s voice.”
Nissim said nothing, and for a little while he did nothing.
“What’s wrong?” asked Elata.
“What Archon looks like that?” Seldom asked.
“How would I know?” she said.
The Master didn’t answer. But he had to take some serious breaths, one after another. Then he stood tall again and wiped his mouth and stared at his feet, shaking his head slowly as he told the floor, “Let’s not talk about Archons again. And we have to find your father. As soon as we can.”
A woman sat behind a high table. She was smiling and laughing with the other people in the office, and then civilians came through the door and she turned into a different woman. She wasn’t old and she wasn’t young. A hard stare greeted the newcomers, and she glanced at the children before noticing the man walking with them. One boy earned a long gaze. She spoke to the tall man while eyeing Diamond, asking, “How can we help, sir?”
“We’re looking for this boy’s father,” Nissim began.
“Which boy?” she asked.
Nissim put his hands on Diamond’s shoulders. “The man works for your agency. From what I’ve heard, he’s one of your best.”
“I know everybody on our staff,” she boasted.
“Merit,” he said.
The name startled. Everyone in the room turned, people whispering while the woman behind the desk continued her examination of the unusual-looking boy.
“Do you know Merit?” Nissim asked.
“Oh, I do.” The woman blinked and sighed, collecting her wits. “I’m just a little surprised. We’ve heard about his son . . . but . . . but . . . ”
Diamond fidgeted.
She walked around her desk, wanting to touch him. But after lifting her hands, she stopped herself. “You’re too sick to travel,” she said.
“Is his father here?” Nissim pressed.
“No.”
“We were told he killed a corona.”
“I can’t believe anybody knows that. Rain soaked our wires. We’ve been out of communication with the far stations since last night.” But that didn’t seem like enough of an answer, so she admitted, “Merit’s late coming home, and that usually means success.”
A couple co-workers gave preliminary cheers.
The woman couldn’t resist any longer. She touched Diamond’s warm forehead and ran the back of her other hand across his cheek and down his neck, admitting quietly, “You’re not what I expected.”
“I want to see my father,” said Diamond.
“And I wouldn’t be surprised if Merit stepped through this door by the middle of the afternoon.”
From the back of the office, one man shouted, “He was hunting near Bright River.”
“Unless he’s gone somewhere else,” the woman countered. “Coronas go where they want, and our people have to follow. The only certainty is that every day brings change.”
Diamond backed away, escaping the caring hands.
The woman was offended. “And where’s your mother today?”
“I don’t know.”
She blinked and sighed. Then she said, “Well,” and looked at the other civilians.
“You can appreciate our dilemma,” Nissim pointed out. “His mother disappeared last night or this morning. Nobody knows where she is, and that’s why we’re searching for Merit.”
“Bright River Station,” the man repeated.
The woman lifted a hand, demanding silence. Then from some secret reservoir came pity, more pity than anyone would have guessed she was capable of. Her old face softened and the eyes became bright and sad. After a painful sigh, she said, “I’ll tell you what, my boy. I’ll dispatch a fletch to find your father and bring him here. Would that be good enough?”
Diamond said, “No.”
“Excuse me?”
“My mother’s gone, and I need to see my father,” he insisted.
“Well, we might . . . ” She concentrated, piecing together the bureaucratic excuses necessary for this indulgence. Then another thought occurred to her. Turning to Nissim, she asked, “And who are you, sir?”
“The boy’s bodyguard,” he said.
Eyes narrowed, her mind wrestled with the unexpected.
“And we’re his friends,” Elata added.
The woman looked at Diamond again. “I suppose you want them going with you?”
Diamond said, “Yes.”
And she shook her head in resignation. “I want you to understand. If your father were anybody else, I wouldn’t do this. I wouldn’t even wrestle with the thought of doing this. And I would probably laugh at all of you before I sent you on your way.”
Official papers were yanked from an iron box, and the woman wrote important words on them and stamped them decisively, leaving evidence that each document carried the weight and authority of a very important office. Then she handed the stack to Nissim, giving directions to the hanger before adding, “If somebody wants to doubt you, come back here immediately.”
“And we’ll try something else?”
“Oh, no,” she said, disgusted by the suggestion. “I’ll burn the evidence and throw you out.”