Cold Fire

She set down the mirror, sat me on the end of the bed, and began brushing out my hair, as she liked to do, humming a popular street melody. I heard footsteps at the base of the stairs. Luce brushed on obliviously, unaware.



The low, sardonic voice was Kayleigh’s. “Is that a bed???”



“I thought it was time to get off those uncomfortable cots,” answered Vai in a tone whose cheerfulness made me suspicious.



“Then why is there only one bed, Vai?”



“I can only make one at a time. After I’m done with my regular work.”



A bed!



“Cat?” Lucretia bent to look in my face. “Yee went stiff, like a frog hopped over yee foot.”



Vai was still speaking. “Aren’t you going to the areito? Kofi hopes so.”



Kayleigh’s voice dropped to a murmur. “I have to go back. But I had to bring you this news. This is not rumor. General Camjiata returned to the city last night.”



I choked.



Luce clucked. “’Tis sweet that yee’s nervous.”



Kayleigh was going on, voice tight and accusatory. “I’m no good at being a spy. I jump at every noise. I bump into things. I hate being indoors. It’s not the cleaning work that’s hard. It’s that I can’t stop thinking they’re about to catch me and whip me and then hang me.”



“I wouldn’t ask it of you if I could do it myself.”



Her tone softened. “I know, Vai. I know you’ll never stop putting us first. I know you’ll never stop trying. It’s not fair I get away and no one else does. You know I’ll do whatever you ask.”



“Then tell me. Do I look all right?”



She snickered. “I cannot believe you just asked that.”



“Cat, have a bat stolen yee mind?” Lucretia rapped me on the head with the brush.



“What makes you think I’m nervous?” I rose indignantly as the door opened.



Kayleigh entered. She ventured into monosyllables as she looked me up and down. “That’s so fine, Cat. I’m so tired of these cursed lengths of cloth we have to wrap for skirts.”



“My thanks,” I said cautiously. “I could buy more material and sew you a similar skirt. A jacket will be harder. I’ll have to make a pattern for it.” Then I remembered I was leaving.



“Me, too, Cat!” cried Lucretia.



Kayleigh looked tired. I suppose a spy’s work would be tiring if you didn’t enjoy skulking and eavesdropping, and if you couldn’t draw shadows around you to hide yourself from everyone except the ones you most needed to hide from.



Her wan smile seemed genuine. “That would be nice, Cat. You look very pretty.”



I hoped I wasn’t flushed. “I really would love to make you a skirt.” Lucretia pinched me. “And of course one for pestiferous Luce.”



Luce giggled.



Kayleigh sank down on her cot and rested her head on her arms.



“Kayleigh? Are you well?” I took a step toward her.



She gestured with a hand. “I have to go back to Warden Hall. The scullery girl came down sick.” She hesitated, then went on into her arms. “I’m sorry I haven’t been nicer to you, Cat.”



“I hope he hasn’t been scolding you. Vai ought to appreciate you better.”



She glanced up with a surprised look. I thought she was about to speak, and I braced myself because I was sure it would be words I did not want to hear. But she rubbed her forehead and said, “I’ll just rest a bit. Enjoy yourself tonight. I mean that.” She lay down.



I grabbed my cane and slid it through the loop I had sewn into the waistband. If I was going to go, then I was cursed well going to enjoy myself. Just this one areito.



Lucretia said, “Cat, we have not braided yee hair.”



“I think I won’t.” Let him see it all unbound!



“A kerchief, then.” She followed me out. “Yee shall really look nice with the kerchief.”



Vai stood in the courtyard talking with Kofi, who saw me and with a startled expression nudged Vai. He turned, looking up as I swanned down the stairs, Lucretia at my heels. Just for a moment he looked as if he had been kicked by a horse. Or perhaps it was me feeling the hoof slamming into my head, for he wore a jacket I recognized from Adurnam, a chained pattern of red and gold so bold only a confident man could pull off. There was something about the way he wore clothes that choked admiration out of people who wished not to be quite so stifled by a feeling I could only describe as… No. After all, I could not describe it.



“Catherine. There you are. Time to go.” He extended a hand, meaning me to take it.