Michelle West - Sun Sword 06 - The Sun Sword by Michelle West Page B

you."
    Gabriel nodded, but Finch could see frustration break the line of his perfect
mouth. He did not, however, leave. "Morretz," he said quietly.
    "ATerafin."
    "The House is alive with rumor. No one—not even I myself— has been granted
leave to visit the healerie, and the fact that the guards beyond its closed
doors are
all
of the Chosen has been lost on no one."
    "And you fight a rearguard action against the demands of the House Council?"
    Gabriel's smile was grim. "I'm an old soldier," he said softly. "It is not
the most difficult action that The Terafin has ordered me to undertake."
    Morretz nodded, his expression so smooth it gave nothing away.
    "Ask her to send me word," the right-kin said, a moment after the silence
threatened to become uncomfortable. His gaze slid across Finch and Teller. "Tell
her I wish to know what she wishes to be known."
    "She has faith in your discretion," Morretz replied. "She has always had
faith in your discretion."
    This seemed to shore the old man up. "Alowan?"
    "He is, as you surmise, dead."
    And that seemed to take the steel out of his spine. He did not move, but
everything about his posture suggested a stagger. He, too, had taken a blow. No
thought left for Finch or Teller now; no suspicion about their presence.
    "His assistants?"
    "They are dead as well, all save one."
    "And that?"
    "Daine ATerafin."
    Gabriel bowed.
    "Confirm the rumors, if you must."
    He bowed again.
    "And Gabriel?"
    "Yes?"
    "The House Council will be summoned on the morrow, if The Terafin's
investigation permits."
    Gabriel looked relieved. It was the last of his face Finch saw as he sought,
and exited, the double doors.
    "Very good, ATerafin," Ellerson said quietly.
    She grimaced. "Don't we trust him?" The words were almost plaintive.
    And as such, beneath response.
    "You would do best," an entirely different voice replied, "to trust no one."
    From behind Morretz, a man emerged, changing the landscape of the library.
    Finch worked really hard to stop from cringing. She started to rise, and
caught Ellerson's gaze; he gave her no direction at all, damn him.
    Teller rose, though. Teller bowed.
    And Finch bowed as well, although it was hard—she didn't want to take her
eyes from Duvari's chill expression.
    He didn't seem to notice. He walked past the table that they had just
deserted, and made his way to the doors. Without asking for permission, he
locked them. Or at least she thought he locked them; his back was turned to
them, and it shielded all sight of his hands.
    "Devon," he said, turning.
    Devon ATerafin joined them, coming from the same shadows that had hidden
Duvari. She had always liked Devon, but in his movement, in his neutral
expression, his utter silence, she saw the similarities to Duvari. Gregori
ATerafin rose; she had forgotten he was there.
    She turned to Ellerson again. His fingers touched the tabletop lightly, and
she recognized after a moment the signal for silence, for secrecy. It looked
odd, given as it was by his domicis' hands, for it belonged properly among a den
of thieves.
    Hers.
    "That was unfortunate," Devon said, his gaze lingering on the closed door, or
perhaps upon the route that Gabriel ATerafin had taken.
    "It was. Were the Chosen given no instructions?"
    "He
is
the right-kin," Morretz said coolly. "And in as much as there
is a steward to the House, it is Gabriel."
    "They were to grant no one entrance."
    "They are not simple guards," Morretz replied. "As you well know, ATerafin.
They chose to grant him entry. They will grant entry to no other members of the
House Council unless there is an emergency."
    "They granted entrance—obvious entrance—to the two most junior members of the
Council, and he noted it."
    "He is not in contention for the House throne."
    "His son is."
    An old argument; Finch could taste the stale embers in the words. She longed
to crawl under the table.
    This was why Ellerson had been so careful in his choice of clothing, damn
him.