She sighed. «That’s a lot to ask of a sensayer.»
«I know. I’ll make it up to you.»
«Mmmm.» Such a contented purr. «And what else have you to confess today?»
«Not much. I tortured some thugs, broke into some houses, stole some things, took three prisoners, tormented and traumatized a child, started to seduce a married woman but didn’t bother finishing. You know I don’t think I’ve broken my vow of chastity once this week, except just now.»
She sounded worried. «That’s not good for your health.»
«I’ve been busy. Besides»—I heard here the creak of a straining chair or table—«the world is settling down. There aren’t many left who are rebellious enough that I need to get on top of them, and not many with the authority to force me underneath.»
They laughed together, though I’m sure the joke was more in how they lay than what he said.
«Julia, I need your help.»
«With what?»
«A few things. First, what can you tell me about a Cousin sensayer called Carlyle Foster?»
«Carlyle? They’re one of mine.»
«One of your what? Students? Parishioners? »
«One of mine one of mine.»
Knowing Julia as I did, I had suspected so much, but it was good to be certain.
«Oh, that’s too bad.» He laid more kisses now, a series of them with a steady rhythm as if progressing inch by inch along some part of Julia like footsteps. «Are you fond of her?»
«One of my best, extremely sweet and loyal, and credulous. I’ve no other moles that good at seeming benign. Why, has something happened to Carlyle?»
«Not yet, but may I have her?»
«Once? Or in general?»
«I need to break her. Make her mine.»
«Oh, please don’t,» Julia crooned.
«I don’t see a way around it.» Furniture creaked again as their weight shifted. «It’s a small world and we’ve learned so many techniques from one another. It’s inevitable we’ll get in one another’s way from time to time.»
Julia’s voice turned coaxing, like a child’s. «Can’t you hold off a bit? Carlyle’s in the middle of a mission.»
Dominic enjoyed this laugh. «Using her in your chess game with Danaë, are you? Making a move on the Saneer-Weeksbooth bash’? Good target.»
«Mmm. Frustrating target. They’ve been impregnable with that stubborn Esmerald Revere refusing to let any of them have even one session with anybody else. You remember the one time I tricked Cato Weeksbooth into coming here?»
«Of course.» An even darker laugh. «It was the same when I showed up at the house, ran for his life. Good instincts, the clever little thing.»
«Yes, that’s … ouuh.» She lost her breath here, as at the touch of a good masseur. «That’s—mmh—why I need Carlyle there, no one can fake harmless like Carlyle because Carlyle isn’t faking. That bash’ is a fortress; only a mosquito can get through.»
«Was it you who got Esmerald Revere to snuff herself?» Dominic asked.
«No, that wasn’t me. Pure good luck, or someone else, but not me.»
His voice turned black. «It wasn’t luck.»
«Who, then?»
«I don’t know.»
Julia sighed. «I think someone threatened to kill Cato Weeksbooth if they ever talked to me.»
«Could be. You know I’d kill most of my minions if they ever talked to you.»
She chuckled. «Flatterer. Is it someone in the bash’, do you think? Ockham Saneer?»
«I don’t know.»
From my view behind the door’s crack I caught a glimpse of one of them, an arm, and maybe Dominic’s ponytail as he tilted back in a chair.
«Come on, you spent time there,» Julia coaxed. «I know you can smell a killer.»
«Not when my nose is too full of God. Besides, Ockham Saneer stinks to high heaven of killer legally, it’s hard to scent anything under that.»
«What about Sniper? Wouldn’t it be great if it were Sniper?»
I heard a smack of skin on skin, and something in their motion shifted, fabric rustling with subtle struggle as their silhouettes passed across my line of sight.
«Which are you after, anyway?» Dominic asked. «The cars or Sniper?»
«Hm?»
«In the Saneer-Weeksbooth bash’.» Kisses slowed his speech again, drier and more breathy than before: an animal nuzzling. «Those two … little set-sets … could feed you dirt on … the whole world … second only to … the tracker system … but on the other hand … Sniper is … Sniper.»
«I’m after both.»
A skull clunked against wood. «That’s avarice, that is,» he snapped. «A sin.»
«I suppose it is. Which are you after?»
«Neither. I need Carlyle for unrelated business. But if you had to pick, or … let me put it another way: can I have Carlyle if I give you Sniper?»
«You can have your pick of all my creatures if you give me Sniper!»
I heard a sharp inhalation, the beginning of a word, or of an ecstasy? «I won’t cheat you, Julia. Carlyle Foster is more than what she seems. You should know what you’re trading away before we seal the bargain.»
«I know what I have, Dominic. That’s why I took them as a student in the first place. Carlyle de la Trémoïlle. Even has a dick between their legs to make them a legal heir. Does Ganymede have any other bastards?»
«She’s not Ganymede’s bastard, she’s Danaë’s. But no, the Duke has no bastards I know of, so little Carlyle de la Trémoïlle is heir presumptive.»
«Mmm. Must qualify as an Earl or something, have you looked it up?»
«Doesn’t matter; theological titles trump.»
«Ganymede’s heir…,» Julia crooned. «Is there a father? My best guess was incest, but if you say the child isn’t Ganymede’s … »
«There was a father, but Madame does not tolerate the … spoiling of her creatures. I would have burned the corpse myself, but Hotaka Andō Mitsubishi had that privilege.»
«Ah. Strong man, Andō. So what does Dominic want with the little prince … de … la … Tré … mo … ïlle?» Kisses or little nips punctuated Julia’s syllables. «Is Ganymede getting a bit too independent for Madame’s tastes? Needs a tighter leash?»
«Actually, my needs are unrelated to the Cousin’s birth.»
«What are they related to? This universe’s God?»
«Later.»
«Tell me?» Another creaking. «Tell me now.»
There was a long breath’s pause and then a sudden … I cannot call it a dash or rush since they stayed in the same place, but I heard some fierce and almost violent shift, someone breaking free of a hold perhaps?
«I said later. But my offer stands. Carlyle de la Trémoïlle for Sniper?»
«For Sniper? Anything.»
«Done!» I heard a rush of paper. I doubt, reader, that Mephistopheles has ever plunked a contract on a table with greater zeal. «Here, look at these.»
I heard shuffling through pages. «A child’s drawings?»
In my efforts to stay silent I bit down on my hand hard enough to leave a mark.
«I have a kid I have to break. Fast,» Dominic continued. «I figured my dearest teacher could give her floundering student a few pointers.» Whatever motion Dominic made to sweeten the flattery made Julia gasp. «You remember I flunked child sensaying twice; they’re just too alien, these neutered little monsters.»
«Mmm. I remember. It’s so fun flunking you.»
The sound Dominic made has no better name than ‘growl.’
«Interesting.» Papers rustled one by one. «The iconography is like a young child’s but the hand-eye coordination is too good. How old’s this kid?»
«Older than ten, less than fifteen, I’d say. I don’t know when these drawings were done, though.»