There would be more to the story. Maybe some history.
She grabbed my hand. “Don’t mind me. I’m glad you’re here. You must be exhausted.”
I nodded but didn’t go on about it.
“My father wanted me to marry one of the Tersize boys when I was fifteen. He wanted the business alliance. He didn’t have his heart set on it. I got around him.”
I couldn’t imagine her not manipulating any men before she was out of diapers.
She mumbled, “I know some of the answers to the questions you still have.”
“Great! How about the meaning of life?”
“Life’s a bitch. And then you die.” A moment later, she started snoring.
So I held her hand and fell asleep myself.
A teenage niece popped in. Food and drink were her excuse. Tinnie’s people are busybodies, too. Only there’re more of them. This was a fifteen-year-old edition of the professional redhead. Sizzling. And knowing it. And stoked up with all the attitude I would’ve expected of Tinnie at that age. She was disappointed in us old folks. Antiques, just holding hands. And snoring. Not doing anything embarrassing.
Tinnie rips a mean log. Naturally, she’ll never admit an accomplishment so unladylike.
We ate. I said, “You were going to give me the answers to all my questions. After which I’ll launch the cult of Saint Tinnie the Delectable.”
She said, “Kyra, invite yourself out. Please.”
“Please” as an afterthought, in the command form.
Showing a pout that guaranteed she’d lurk in the woodwork, eavesdropping, the apprentice redhead departed.
“Don’t be such a chicken, Garrett. Grab hold of my hands again.”
“But then you’ll kick me.”
“I might.” She smiled. But she didn’t mean it.
Time to be a little less me. “Sorry.”
“You can’t help it. Your mouth takes over when you’re nervous.”
“I’m not nervous.”
“Of course you are. You’re scared shitless that I’ve gotten up enough nerve to decide what I want from you and me.”
Good point. I’m always afraid that will happen and I’ll respond by shoving both feet a yard down my own throat. But I was afraid we’d never work it out, too. “Some,” I confessed. “Because chances are, someday you’ll have an attack of good sense and make me go away.”
“That, probably, would be best. Half the time I just slow you down. But I’m spoiled. I grew up overindulged. I can’t picture my life without you in it.”
Gah! This was gonna get deep. “I know what you mean. I can’t, either.”
“But that isn’t what I want to talk about. That just came out.”
Sure. The woman has no self-control whatsoever.
“I wanted to talk about Penny.”
“Oh?” I squeaked. She saw the relief flood me. She managed a credible scowl. The effect of which was lost when she had to blow her nose.
“All right. What about Penny?”
“She isn’t really a priestess.”
“No! The surprises never stop.”
“Knock it off, smart-ass. She isn’t a priestess because she wasn’t ever invested. She was too young. She’s still too young. She’s only thirteen. Though you’d never believe it if you saw her undressed. Which damned well better never happen, even after she does turn fourteen.”
“I’m missing a detail or three to pull all that together.”
“She turns fourteen-she’s officially an adult. In her cult, that means it’s time to be a holy semipro. Putting it out to honor the goddess-and add a little cash to the temple pot-until she finds a husband.”
“Ymber must have been interesting, back in the day.”
“You would’ve loved it. You would’ve been in church every damned day instead of just for weddings and funerals.”
Could be. If the religious catch wasn’t too big. “I could surprise you.”
“You could, but I doubt it. You’ll never be anything but sixteen when it comes to that. You can’t see beyond the moment.”
She wasn’t entirely incorrect. But we were getting personal again.
She said, “That’s not what we need to talk about. I shouldn’t fuss about that. She won’t let you get near her, anyway. She’s scared to death of you.”
“Huh? But I’m just a big old huggy bear. Why be scared of me?”
“Because-”
“Tinnie.” Theses words were scarcely louder than a whisper.
Penny Dreadful, pale as the weather outside, peeked round the frame of Tinnie’s open bedroom door. She did look scared as hell.
“Are you sure?”
“I have to do it sometime.”
68
I retreated toward the dormer window on my side of Tinnie’s four-poster. That put the bed between me and the immigrant urchin priestess princess.
She oozed around the doorframe by degrees. Somebody had run her down, stolen her rags, scrubbed and rubbed her, washed, combed, trimmed, buffed, and polished her, then stuffed her into something old of Kyra’s. Yep. She’d worked wonders disguising herself as a boy.
“I’ve seen you before,” I said. As a girl Penny Dreadful looked familiar.
Tinnie slapped my hand. “Stop drooling, big boy. She’s still a baby.”
“You’re wrong this time, sweetness.” Then, “Where do I know you from?”
The girl shivered, turned pale again. Which made her look like the ghost of Belinda Contague’s past.
That was it. She resembled Belinda, though her hair, clean, was auburn with a hint of natural curl.
My ancient talent for leaping to conclusions coalesced. “Chodo Contague was your father.”
Tinnie gasped, choked on some phlegm. “You’re insane, Garrett,” she hacked.
“Probably. But-”
“You’re right,” Penny said in her tiny, frightened voice. “My mother said… how did you guess?”
“In this light, dressed like a girl, you look a lot like your sister.”
“Belinda… she wouldn’t… she…”
“You talked to her?” Belinda hadn’t ever mentioned Penny or a half sister. Or any visit from somebody running a lost-relative scam.
“She wouldn’t see me.” Penny grabbed the bedpost kitty-corner from me, her knuckles whitening. “When our temple was besieged my mother told me about my father. Which is against the rules. We’re not supposed to know.
“I tried to see him, too. They wouldn’t let me, though.”
Prodding gently, I got Penny to tell her life story. “This man came to see my mother twice a year. And me. He always brought presents. I didn’t know who he was till my mother told me. At the end. But he stopped coming after he got important here. I never saw him after I was ten. A-Laf’s priests started going wild after he stopped coming. First they took over the city offices. After a while there wasn’t any difference between the town elders and their council of deacons. Then they started on the other religions.”
Unsubtly. Bullying adherents and committing arson. The weak of faith converted. The stronger fled or died. In time, only A-Lat remained, and her empire consisted entirely of the mother temple. “Then they came for us.”
“And you got away.”
“My mother sent me away. She made me bring the Luck to TunFaire. In disguise. She told me to find my father. So I came. And I can’t get to him.”
Penny didn’t appear to have witnessed her mother’s murder. I gave that no weight. Witnesses do have trouble keeping time straight. When she was told to run and when she took flight could’ve been weeks apart.
A skilled cynic keeps his mind open to all the darker possibilities, though.
Penny teared up. “I thought it would be easy. I’d just find my father and he’d make everything right again. He’s an important man.”
“You really want to see Chodo?”
Frightened little-girl nod.