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It seemed to Fire that if she couldn't sneak up on Murgda, she might as well be direct. She sent a message.
Come out, lady rebel, and tell me why you're here.
Murgda's response was both immediate and startling: an ironic, hard pleasure at being so hailed; an utter lack of surprise or fear; a desire, unmistakable, to meet with the lady monster in person; and a blatant and unapologetic mistrust.
Well, Fire thought, her tone deliberately careless. I'll meet with you, if you'll go to the place I specify.
Amusement and contempt in response to this. Murgda was not fool enough to be led into a trap.
And I'm not keen enough to see you, Lady Murgda, that I would let you choose the meeting place.
Stubborn refusal to leave her self-created fortress.
You don't imagine I'd come to you in your rooms, Lady Murgda? No, I begin to think we are not meant to meet after all.
A determination – a need – to meet Lady Fire, to see her.
It was intriguing, this need, and Fire was content to use it for her own purposes. She breathed to calm her nerves, for her next message must be perfect in tone: amused – delighted, even – to the point of mild acquiescence, and somewhat curious, but rather indifferent as to where all of this might lead.
I suppose we could start by getting a look at each other. I'm on the balcony just across from you and up.
Suspicion. Fire was trying to lure Murgda out again.
Very well then, Lady Murgda. If you think our plan is to kill you publicly at our winter party and start a war in the court, then by all means, don't venture onto your balcony. I ca
A burst of irritation in response to this, which Fire ignored. Then scorn, then mild disappointment; and finally, silence. Fire waited. Minutes passed, and her sense of Murgda shrank, as if Murgda were pulling her feelings away and closing herself tight.
More minutes passed. Fire was begi
Murgda stopped behind her balcony door and peeked out at Fire through the glass pane. She was as Fire remembered her: a short, plain-faced woman, straight-shouldered and tough-looking. Fire was pleased, oddly, by the strong and purposeful sight of her.
Murgda didn't emerge to the balcony; she didn't even crack the door open. But this was what Fire had expected and the most she dared to hope for, and it was enough, for down below, Gentian's eyes caught hold of Murgda.
His reaction came to Fire plain as a pail of water thrown in her face. His confidence surged. His nerves were immensely comforted.
She understood now why Gentian wasn't spying on Murgda, and why Lord Mydogg's ally Captain Hart had known so much about Gentian. She understood a good many things, including why Murgda had come. She had come to help Gentian see his plans through. For somewhere along the line, Mydogg and Gentian had become allies against the king.
And Fire was reading something from Murgda as well, something less surprising. Whether Gentian knew it or not, his ally had come for one other reason. Fire read it in Murgda's eyes that stared across the courtyard at her, and in the feeling Murgda was releasing now without meaning to: stupefaction, wonderment, and lust, though not the lust Fire was used to. This lust was hard and scheming, and political. Murgda wanted to steal her. Mydogg and Murgda wanted her for their very own monster tool – had wanted her since the first moment they'd seen her last spring.
Knowledge – even the knowledge that your enemies had unified to outnumber you – was strengthening. Fire saw now quite assuredly what she must do. What she could do, if she took care and kept hold of all the stray ends. You see? she thought now charmingly to Murgda. You've shown your face, and you're still alive.
Murgda's mind sharpened and closed. She narrowed her eyes at Fire and rested her hand on her stomach in an interesting ma
Fire stepped back into the shadows. Flatly, without dramatics, she communicated to the others all she had learned. They were surprised; horrified; unsurprised; eager to proceed. She answered as best she could what she believed to be their questions.
I don't know if I'll ever get Lady Murgda out of her rooms, she thought to them. I don't know if Murgda will die tonight. But Lord Gentian will do whatever I say, and I can probably manage Gu
Chapter Twenty-Four
Fire wanted Gentian, and more particularly Gu
There had been too many minds in the courtyard to control at once. She'd had help. Welkley's people had been on the floor creating distractions to deflect attention from her. But persons here and there had seen, and Fire had to make a list now of people who must be watched with extra care on the chance they'd found it interesting that the lady monster seemed to be working her charms on Gentian and Gu
Still, it had worked. Gentian and Gu
Now she sank into a chair in Nash's sitting room, her head in her hands, monitoring Gentian's eagerness, Gu
"Thank you," she said, glancing up gratefully and taking the cup. "You did well, Lord King. They believe you guard me jealously and I've a wish to escape. Gentian is positively brimming with indignation. "
Clara, sprawled on a sofa, snorted in disgust. "Gullible no-heads."
"It's not their fault, really," Nash said soberly, still crouched before Fire. He was having a hard time getting up and leaving her. Fire could feel that he was trying. She wanted to put a hand on his arm, out of gratitude for all the ways he always tried, but she knew her touch would be no help to him. Why don't you take water to your brother, she thought to him gently, for Garan had begun to sweat with one of the fevers that overtook him in moments of stress, and was resting on the sofa with his feet in Clara's lap. Nash bent his chin to his chest and stood to do what she said.
Fire considered Brigan, who'd leaned back against a bookshelf, arms crossed, eyes closed, ignoring the argument begi