“Gods, how could this happen?”
Jerusha PalaThion glanced up from where she sat at Gundhalinu’s bedside, as Vhanu murmured the question for the third or fourth time since he had entered the hospital room. He turned away restlessly from the bed where Gundhalinu lay, still unconscious.
“He is going to be all right—?” He asked that for the second time, of the medtech who stood studying the displays on the monitor above the bed.
The technician nodded. “He’ll be all right, Commander. He lost a lot of blood, but we put it back. The knife didn’t hit anything critical. In fact, he’s showing signs of increasing brain activity. He should wake up any time now.”
“Thank the gods,” Vhanu said. “How could he have let that woman into his home, armed with knives?” He faced Jerusha at last, finally speaking the doubts she had read in his eyes. “Why didn’t his security system warn him she was armed?”
“He’d just had another caller,” Jerusha said, glancing at BZ’s face, seeing a random muscle twitch in his cheek. “He must have forgotten to reset it.”
Vhanu grunted. “Was it Kitaro?”
“Yes, sir,” she said. “Looks like it.”
He shook his head again, and muttered a curse. “Gods, what a pointless tragedy.” He swung around, staring at the closed door as if he could see through walls. “What in the name of a thousand ancestors made that woman suddenly go berserk and try to assassinate the Chief Justice?”
Jerusha shrugged. “It probably had something to do with the mer hunts,” she said, carefully noncommittal. “The mers are considered sacred by the Summers, you know.” He glanced at her, frowning, looking for criticism. “Capella Goodventure was an extremely conservative woman,” she finished, keeping her expression neutral. “Even fanatical.”
“These miserable dashtanu,” he muttered. “After all we’ve done for them. Nothing makes any sense here, nothing seems to go right here! What is it about this place—?” He broke off, as Gundhalinu stirred beside her.
She looked back at Gundhalinu’s face, saw his eyes flicker open and stare blindly, as if he had been looking into the sun. He murmured something; she could not make out the words. “BZ—” she said softly, and his head turned toward her. Vhanu crossed the room in three strides, and stopped beside her.
“Jerusha,” BZ whispered, half in surprise, and half in relief. He tried to push himself up, getting nowhere; went limp again, with a spasm of pain. “Moon … is she all right? Is she safe, did she get away?”
Jerusha froze; nodded imperceptibly, before she glanced at Vhanu, trying to carry BZ’s attention with her.
“What did he say?” Vhanu asked sharply. “He said ‘Moon.’”
“No, he didn’t,” she answered.
“Yes he did. He said ‘Moon.’ Is he talking about the Summer Queen?”
“He’s disoriented,” she insisted. “I couldn’t tell what he was saying. Justice—” She put a hand on Gundhalinu’s shoulder, in comfort, in warning. “The Commander is here with me, sir.”
Gundhalinu blinked and grimaced. “You’re Commander now, ma’am,” he whispered, almost inaudible. “No … I mean I am …”He shook his head, barely, and made a sound that might have been a laugh. “Vhanu,” he said, with real recognition this time. “You are.” He smiled; the smile disappeared as quickly as it had formed. “Is she all right?”
“Who?” Vhanu said flatly.
BZ looked up at him, clear-eyed. “Kitaro,” he said. “Is she all right—?”
Vhanu’s face changed. He looked down. “She’s dead, BZ.”
“No…” Gundhalinu shut his eyes; she saw a tremor pass through him. “Oh, no. Oh gods, no.”
“There was nothing they could do for her, Justice,” Jerusha said, as gently as : could; resenting the fact that Vhanu called him by his given name, as a friend ould, and would not permit her to do the same. “She died instantly.”
“It was my fault…”he said.
“No.”
“If we hadn’t been—” He broke off.
She glanced at Vhanu again, unable to tell what his expression was.
“May I see him?” a voice asked unexpectedly, from the doorway.
Vhanu turned, startled by the sudden presence of someone else behind him.
The Queen. Jerusha pushed to her feet, staring in surprise.
“Yes… of course, Lady,” Vhanu murmured. He bowed formally; Jerusha rose and did the same, as Moon entered the room.
“I came as soon as I heard,” she said, her attention already abandoning them for the man lying in the bed.
“He just regained consciousness, Lady,” Vhanu said, intersecting her course. “This isn’t the best time for you to speak to him—”
She stopped, glancing at him, and away again. Jerusha noticed that one of her hands was clenched whitely at her side; the other hung loose-fingered and oddly still against the folds of her cloak.
“I’m all right—” BZ’s own voice, thready but resolute, cut off Vhanu’s attempt to stop her. He pushed himself up onto an elbow; Jerusha saw in his eyes what the effort cost him.
“I am so glad to hear it, from your own lips, Justice Gundhalinu,” Moon said softly. She bowed her head, in a gesture of relief, barely concealing the other emotion that reddened her cheeks.
“You know that it was one of your own people who tried to kill the Chief Justice?” Vhanu said. “And who murdered a Police inspector—?”
“Yes.” She lifted her head. “And killed herself, as well… . Words are useless to express my sorrow that such a terrible thing has happened here.” She looked toward Gundhalinu, turning away from Vhanu; the anguish and helpless longing on her face were suddenly, perfectly clear from where Jerusha sat. “I feel … responsible.” Jerusha watched her one hand tighten again. “Tell me if there is anything I can do to help—”
By the Boatman, Jerusha thought, with a sinking feeling. She was there with him. Kitaro had not been having an affair with him, as she’d let everyone on the force think she was. She’d been covering for him. It was Moon he’d been seeing. Jerusha swore silently. She should have guessed it sooner; she should have known But she rarely even saw BZ, lately. If she’d still been working for the Queen she would have sensed it—even if she hadn’t been told, she knew the woman too well, after so many years. She would have seen the truth long before now. If only she’d known…
“You can start by keeping your Summers out of our way when we hunt the mere, instead of encouraging them,” Vhanu said, to Moon’s turned back. “You set off dangerous fanatics like that Goodventure woman—”
Moon faced him again. “What ‘set her off,’ ” she said, her voice hard with pain, “was that your hunters attacked Summer vessels. Three people drowned, including her own grandchild.”
Jerusha stiffened, looking toward Vhanu. Gundhalinu pushed himself up in the bed.
“Where did you hear that, Lady?” Vhanu asked, his eyes suddenly as cold as the icebound peaks of the inland.
“From one of my people,” she said, her own eyes like ice. “Is it true?”
His frown deepened.
“Is it, Vhanu?” Gundhalinu asked, supporting himself on one elbow.
“For gods’ sakes,” Vhanu snapped, looking at the Queen. “This is hardly the time or place to be making such accusations, with the Chief Justice barely recovered from an attack on his life—”
“Vhanu—” Gundhalinu said, angrily. “Is it?”
Vhanu turned back, and Jerusha saw his eyes. “Summers interfered with our hunt, as usual, sir. We warned them off. No casualties were recorded.” He’s lying, she thought. Ye gods, he’s lying.