The rain began shortly before sunrise, so that the steel-gray dawnlight was turned to the duller shade of glowering clouds. There was no wind to speak of, and the steady, monotonous fall of water showed every sign that it would continue throughout the day.
"I wish we didn't have to be apart today," Amoretta told Lillet wistfully as she was helped up into their carriage.
"I know," Lillet agreed. "I don't like being apart from you anyway, but with a mad sorcerer on the loose I hate not having you under my eye where I can protect you." She looked Amoretta directly in the eyes. "Are you sure that you'll be all right?"
"It frightens me," Amoretta admitted. "The idea that there's some devil out there, watching me, maybe even right now, is terrifying." The carriage started in motion, the horses' hooves scraping against the gravel walk. "It might be anyone at the theater: a musician, part of the stage crew, one of the staff, and I wouldn't know it unless I came face-to-face with him. Or he might be a bird pecking at a window or a rat scuttling along the beams over the stage."
She shuddered, making Lillet instinctively reach out to embrace her.
"Don't worry, little love," she said, holding her close. "I promise you, I will never let you die. No devil will ever take you from me."
Amoretta sighed, laying her cheek against Lillet's.
"It's so strange, how you can say something like that and make me believe it in the depths of my soul."
"I'm glad that you do, because I mean every word of it." She leaned back, breaking the embrace, and cupped Amoretta's face between her palms. "I may not be a homunculus, needing love like you do, but you still mean everything to me." Lillet leaned forward and captured Amoretta's lips in a warm, passionate kiss, feeling the cool softness of her lover's mouth as she repeated her pledge in actions rather than words. Amoretta met her passion, sliding her fingers through Lillet's hair and cupping the back of the magician's head so she could deepen and prolong the kiss. Heat rose in Lillet and in that moment she wanted nothing more than to pull Amoretta atop her on the velvet-cushioned seat and demonstrate her feelings emphatically. It was with regret that they ended the kiss.
"Inspector Ballatore will have a couple of his watchmen at the theater today to keep an eye on things. I know they wouldn't be of much use against devils, but if you think you see the sorcerer himself, then let them know." Lillet frowned slightly, thinking. "You'd know if he was there, wouldn't you?"
"If he was in my immediate presence, I would, but not if he was more than twenty or thirty feet away." She blushed a bit and added, "This sense of mine isn't even as long-range as a human's sense of smell."
"Well, if you do notice him there, don't let on if you can," Lillet warned. "Don't provoke him to rash actions, but let the watchmen know. Better yet...send one of them for me at once if anything happens."
Amoretta smiled as if she would laugh.
"Oh, Lillet, don't fuss so." Her smile seemed to dispel some of the fear that had gathered in the carriage while Amoretta was running down all of the possible forms a threat might take.
"I'm only concerned for you. If I could, I'd lock you away behind a wall of dragons and Charon until we catch this fiend."
"But we can't do that. We saw last night what would happen if you do that, and neither one of us is willing to put others in the way of horrible death to keep me safe from a threat that's not even immediate."
That wasn't quite accurate, Lillet thought. She and Amoretta were certainly willing to risk their own lives, but Lillet would have been willing to gleefully let the rest of the world go to the devil if it meant saving Amoretta--only, Amoretta herself would not have tolerated it and so it wouldn't have been "saving" her at all and so Lillet wouldn't do that. So perhaps Amoretta had been right after all in the end.
"So you'll rejoin the company and give the monster what he wants, for now, in the hope it makes him return to a slower course of action, while I try to help the Watch to trace him. If those killings really are just steps towards completing some ritual sorcery, then the best way to defeat it is to stop it now, before he finishes." She smiled back at her lover. "In your operas, the villain always completes his final ritual so that there can be an epic battle, but I'd rather not do things that way."
"I agree!"
"I just hope we'll be able to turn up a lead. The Inspector is going to be helping, of course, but forcing our way into the sort of black market that would sell to sorcerers won't be easy. That kind of person has a lot to lose--possibly even their life if they're convicted of practicing black magic. But like I said at the library, it's our best chance to find someone who can identify the killer."
She reached into the pocket of her purple dress and took out a thin silver ring.
"I made this last night, for you." She gave it to Amoretta. "It's for if you need to contact me in a hurry. I bound a fairy to it; if you rub the ring between thumb and forefinger three times it will summon the fairy and since I'm technically its summoner it will be able to travel directly to me with any message. It'd be a lot faster than sending one of Ballatore's watchmen."
Amoretta slipped the ring onto her finger.
"Thank you, Lillet. I promise I'll use it right away if I think there's a problem."
"No, thank you. I'll feel better knowing that you have that." She smiled again and said, "It's not a dragon, but I'll do what I can." Unfortunately, while she could bind a summoned familiar to an object in case of emergencies when there wasn't enough time to cast a Rune, she couldn't make one obey the orders of a third person. A free-willed elf or fairy was the only kind there was any point in giving to Amoretta, but as a messenger it would do its work well.
Amoretta leaned forward and kissed her again.
"I only wish that I could repay you somehow. Your love is my reason to live, and you've protected me so many times. It scarcely seems fair."
Lillet shook her head.
"That isn't how it works. We each do what we can for each other, and if that means I protect you when you're in danger, then that's what it means. You can't think I resent that...do you?"
"No, not resent...but it seems unjust."
"It isn't. I admit, if you recklessly threw yourself into situations you couldn't handle, knowing I'd be there, it would be different, but you don't do that. Indeed, the last time it was my fault, since you were threatened because you're my lover."
The carriage slowed to a stop. With some surprise, Lillet realized that they'd already arrived at the City Theater, indeed that they had drawn down the side street nearly to the stage door. Glancing out the window, she saw no sign of the bloody tableau that had been on display the previous night. In the cleanup, at least, the Watch had been efficient, removing the corpse and scouring the wall clean. Only with difficulty could she spot the places where the horseshoes had been sunk into the brickwork.
"Well, we're here."
"Mm-hm."
Lillet squeezed Amoretta's hand.
"Take care."
"I will. You take care, too."
The anxiety over leaving Amoretta alone that had bothered Lillet all morning built to a fever pitch, then.
"I'll be back to pick you up after the performance, all right?"
Amoretta smiled.
"I'd like that."
Slowly, reluctantly, Lillet released her grip. She watched as Amoretta descended from the carriage, went to the stage door, knocked, and was admitted. She was actually trembling when the door closed again as if sealing her lover inside.
Stop it! she told herself forcefully. You're no good at all to her like this! The night before, face to face with the latest horror, she'd been able to function calmly in her usual style, so why was she so affected now? Some kind of delayed reaction? Or just the fact that this was the first time since Ballatore's visit the previous morning that Amoretta had been out of her presence, beyond the circle of her personal protection?
If I really want to protect her, she reminded herself, it has to be through action. Worry just gets in the way. That was better. Resolve. She had work to do.
Lillet tapped on the roof of the carriage and the coachman flipped open the small, hinged trap-door.
"Take me to the Old Quarter Watchhouse, please."
"Extra! Torture killer stalks theater district! Bloody murder outside City Theater!"
Inspector Ballatore slammed the window shut, despite the stifling atmosphere in his little office. The newshawks were shouting it from every corner, all the city's broadsheets leading with the story of the latest killing. More than one reporter had made the link to earlier murders, whether by good journalism or because some constable--from ego, flattery, or money--had talked. The Star, though, was the only broadsheet with a hawker right across the street from the watchhouse, and it wasn't by accident. Pinot, the Star's publisher, had it in for the Watch, considering a professional police to be an inherent tool of oppression by the Crown, and missed no opportunity to rub their noses in their failures.
Were this an ordinary crime, the press reports would have had him fuming, but under the circumstances Ballatore had a lot more to worry about than bad publicity. Somehow when compared to the thought of a greater devil on the loose in the capital the choleric ranting of the Prefect simply did not overly scare him.
He reached for the tin mug of strong, black coffee on his desk and knocked back the dregs. Sleep had consisted of two hours' fitful rest in his office chair and he had a feeling it wouldn't get much better until the case was over.
He could still hear the newshawk shouting, but the rain clattering off the closed window largely drowned it out.
"I can't believe you're accepting her help, Raoul."
Riesling was glaring at him, arms crossed below her breasts.
"For God's sake, she's our best suspect!"
"Why would the most powerful magician in the city have to play around with ritual sorcery?"
"You only have her word for it that ritual sorcery is involved!"
"Don't forget Miss Virgine."
"A familiar would say whatever its master told it to."
"You don't believe that any more than I do."
"Why, because of how Blan acted when confronted by the body last night?"
"Partly."
"Partly? What's the rest of it?"
"The rest of it--and it's something I should have thought of yesterday, and if I hadn't been up all night I probably would have--is that if Lillet Blan wanted to commit a series of sacrificial murders, she could do it in that fortress she calls a home and we'd never find out about it. And if she has some crazy obsession with Amoretta Virgine, she has the girl herself to carry it out on. As you pointed out, a familiar is completely in her master's power."
"That's not proof. It could just be some bloody tribute to her lover's singing."
"And last night?"
"Done for our benefit, to make it look like there's an outside party reacting to Miss Virgine's actions."
Ballatore dropped into his chair; it creaked beneath him.
"Janice, we've worked together many times before, successfully, and I consider you a friend, so I'm asking that you take this as a legitimate question and not as an insult. Do you have any reason beyond the fact she's a sexual deviant to suspect Mage Consul Blan of being a homicidal lunatic?"
The question came out as a sigh, reflecting how damned tired he was, but he kept his eyes directly on her, watching how she reacted. She stiffened at once, initially offended despite his admittedly weak disclaimer. Her mouth opened to snap back an angry retort, but the force of his gaze--and, he hoped, her innate honesty--made her break it off a couple of words in.
"Of course I--"
Her mouth closed, and he could tell she was genuinely thinking it over.
"No," she said at last, "I don't. Nothing that's evidence. No, even that's not fair; I don't even have anything that counts as instinct. Not even a 'gut feeling,' as you'd put it. I just don't like her."
Ballatore nodded.
"That's what I thought. What my instincts do tell me is that she's telling the truth, and that she's got good reason to because she doesn't want anything to happen to Miss Virgine." He could have gone one step further and pointed out that to his eye, the two of them acted like a couple in love, not a master and servant, but he didn't want to start that argument. Besides, as he understood it, that could all be part of the fantasy, Blan's feelings on the one side and compelled responses from the homunculus on the other. Nor was any of it his problem anyway, so long as it didn't interfere with finding the killer.
"You're probably right."
"Which is why I'm accepting her help. It gives us access to magical resources we wouldn't ordinarily have, both in terms of knowledge and sheer power, and being Mage Consul means she can also swing the Palace onto our side. It's better to have us working with us for the mutual good than going off on her own while complaining about our inefficiency." He showed his teeth in an ironic grin. "Have you noticed that the Prefect hasn't come storming in here to rake me over the coals for the press reports? He won't want to step on Blan's toes and pick a fight at Court."
"Well, I'm glad I'm good for something," the Mage Consul said as she walked into the room. "But I'm glad that you've dismissed me as a suspect."
"You knew?"
Lillet looked at Riesling.
"I'd have to be an innocent or a fool not to. But thanks to a thin door, I now know you've come to the correct conclusion."
Ballatore hoped that she hadn't gotten there early enough to hear the phrase "sexual deviant." Luckily, she didn't show any sign that she had, though that could just have been discretion.
"So now that that's out of the way, where do we begin?"
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NOTE: The "last time" Lillet mentions protecting Amoretta is, of course, from my story "Life in a Bottle." Nothing like a blatant plug for my own work! Pinot comes from the type of wine.
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