The Mask of Mirrors M. Carrick; (classic novels to read txt) 📖

“That, and a series of pattern cards. The realm of mind is… an interesting place.”

She made herself stop running her thumb over the feathery edge of the mask and set it aside. Vargo had given her an excellent opening, and she meant to use it. While he collected two bowls and spoons from the sideboard, she eased herself into a chair and said, “Did you ever find that patterner I told you about?”

“I did.” Vargo handed her one bowl and sat across from her with the other. His expression was as bland as if they were discussing the weather. “Sedge found her. One of my men; I don’t know if you remember him. I sent him to help after I found out you were unwell. But let me know if he’s bothering Tess, and I’ll find other ways to occupy him.”

She blinked in confusion. Bothering? Tess had mentioned nothing of the sort. “I’m sure he’s no problem. Did the patterner give you anything of use?” She remembered a card had fallen when Peabody surprised Arenza, but not which card, nor if Vargo had followed up with Renata about it. The problem with forgetting things was she didn’t know how much she’d forgotten.

Vargo spooned a helping of tolatsy into his bowl. “That remains to be seen. She put me on Era Novrus’s scent, though it’s unclear whether she works for Novrus herself. And when I went looking into that, I turned up some interesting gossip—that Mezzan Indestor has a Vraszenian lover, possibly on his father’s orders.”

He knew about Idusza? “Rumor has it there was a Vraszenian woman involved in the Night of Hells. Could that be this secret lover?” Before Vargo could respond, she continued, “But no, people said she was with the Rook. I can imagine Mezzan poisoning the Cinquerat out of spite for his father, and I can imagine the Rook poisoning them out of dislike for the nobility, but I can’t imagine the two of them being connected through some Vraszenian.” She served herself some tolatsy and stirred it thoughtfully.

The scar through Vargo’s brow appeared briefly, then vanished. “You can imagine the Rook doing that? True, he hates the nobility—but he usually ignores Vraszenians. Or at least doesn’t go after them.”

“What about the story that he killed a Vraszenian?”

He stilled. “You mean the Fiangiolli fire? Accidents happen—even to the Rook.”

“So you think it was an accident,” she said. “Perhaps not the fire itself, but the man dying.”

His face might as well have been a mask: mildly curious, but no more than anyone might be at an unexpected conversation. “Why so much interest? You’ve asked about this before.”

And you’ve acted oddly when I did before. As if it were a sensitive point with him.

Ren drew a deep breath and met his gaze, keeping hers as clear as she could. If he was the Rook, he’d been in her kitchen that night, and he would understand her now; otherwise, let him think her entranced with the legendary outlaw who’d claimed her glove. “Because I want to know what sort of man the Rook is.”

He didn’t look away. It was a game: who could read more, who could hide better. Vargo ended it with another quirk of his scarred brow. “I see I’ve lost my place as your hero. Probably for the best. He’s better suited to it.” Picking up his spoon, he lifted it like a toast. “Eat your tolatsy. It’s getting cold.”

Isla Traementis, the Pearls: Cyprilun 28

Ren found out the hard way that she’d pushed herself too soon. She returned to Traementis Manor with the intention of thanking Donaia for her hospitality and then relocating back to her own townhouse; instead she put her head down for just a moment and woke four hours later, at which point she remembered to ask Tess what on earth Vargo had meant about Sedge bothering her.

“Didn’t you know? Sedge has succumbed to my womanly charms.” Tess simpered and draped herself over the edge of the bed like she was posing for a painting. Then she spoiled it by giggling. “The looks he was giving me… You should show him a few tricks in case he does take a liking to someone, so he won’t scare them off.”

It finally made sense once Tess explained the situation as a cover for Sedge being around more. Given their sworn bond, Tess and Sedge sleeping together would be incest, and would break Ren’s mind to boot. “But what about Pavlin?” Ren asked teasingly.

Tess blushed to match her freckles in response. “I see somebody is feeling better. Now hold still or I’ll send you down with your hair half-done.”

When she was coiffed to Tess’s satisfaction, she went downstairs to be examined one last time by Tanaquis, who was taking extensive notes on her recovery. When that was done, Renata said, “Meda Fienola, if you wouldn’t mind staying a moment longer, I’d like to speak with you and Era Traementis.”

Tanaquis settled back into her seat, gaze sharpening. “Of course.”

She’d been restrained in questioning Renata on matters unrelated to her sleeplessness, but her curiosity was clearly bubbling not far beneath the surface. The three women settled themselves into Donaia’s study, and once the door was securely closed, Renata took a deep breath and began.

“Era Traementis, I must apologize. A few months ago, when Giuna asked when I was born, I—I lied. I didn’t mean to, but my whole life I’ve been accustomed to saying I was born in Colbrilun… and then after I said it, explaining the truth seemed unthinkably awkward.”

Donaia exchanged a glance with Tanaquis. “We thought perhaps… It doesn’t matter. But why?”

When Tess brought Ren to the Tuatium to be cured, she’d brought something else along as well, as a good-luck charm. It was in her pocket now, and with a silent prayer to steel herself, she drew it out.

Her mother’s pattern deck.

“Two years ago, I found this at an agora in Seteris. I didn’t know what it was—it merely looked