Page 63 of Mistress of Bones
She’d renew her search for the emissary’s mask as soon as she returned to her brother’s home. She could disguise herself as an emissary and gain entrance to the ossuary. Her Valanjian wasn’t so bad as it used to be, and who was to say one had to have a full iris ring to become a servant of the Lord Death? Those in charge here, all the way in Cienpuentes, wouldn’t know any better.
“Your coloring is better, I’m glad to see,” said Norel. “Have I offended you? Forgive me,” he added ruefully. “My friends keep reminding me that my theories are too shocking and a tad hard to swallow. But I assure you, I have spent years studying human flesh and bones.”
Azul smiled, a sad, wan excuse of an upward curve that made thetwo men worry. “I’m not shocked. Surprised, to be sure, but I appreciate your taking the time to explain your theories to me.”
“Of course, of course,” Norel said.
“But for now,” Isile suggested, “let us have some food and drink and talk of less philosophical things, yes? Norel, go find us some seats.”
Norel turned at once and cut through the groups of people.
“I apologize,” Isile said. “Norel can be too much when he gets enamored of his theories.”
“There is no need to—” Azul became aware of a servant politely waiting by their side. “Yes?”
The servant gave them a small bow of his head. “Sirese Del Arroyo?”
“Indeed.”
“There is a woman asking to speak with you. She is not a guest, so we put her in one of the other parlors.”
Could it be Nereida? Azul’s heart began its loud drumming again. There was only one reason Nereida would risk being recognized: access to the ossuary.
With a mere whisper of a goodbye, she returned the glass and followed the servant outside the lively rooms, down the hallway into a smaller parlor. The door closed, and at first, she thought the room empty.
Then someone stepped behind her and placed a cloth against her mouth and nose.
And she thought no more.
XXIIAZUL
Azul regained consciousness as she was being carried over someone’s shoulder. She could barely breathe, the constant jostling making her head swirl and her stomach roll. Escaped tendrils from her braid did their best to obscure her vision, but she still spotted the high boots of her captor, caked with mud—dry, unfortunately, and leaving no trace on the mosaic of beige floor tiles.
Pushing against her captor’s back, she managed to lift her head and saw a second kidnapper. Lo and behold! The woman wore a mask hiding the upper half of her face.
“She’s awake,” the woman said.
“I know,” the one carrying her answered between huffs.
The position she had taken was too straining and not all that useful, so Azul allowed her head to droop again and closed her eyes against the nausea. Her hands fisted onto the man’s waistcoat. She sensed a breeze and heard street noises below—they must be going through one of the high bridges connecting buildings—then it was back into a closed hallway.
Time to bring in reinforcements, she decided. Hadn’t she already planned for this very contingency? Concentrating on one of her two remaining tethers, she followed the tugging sensation all the way to the small mouse. It could sneak into any building and gnaw her freeof any ropes they might use to bind her, as well as provide a good distraction for her to break away.
But the mouse was looking at the woman Enjul had contacted, so Azul hesitated to call it back. Had the small rodent kept track of the woman, instinctively following Azul’s wishes to know more about Enjul’s business with her? She was dipping bread in a bowl of soup at a bare-bones kitchen, the scents waking a hunger in the animal. Azul got the feeling that the place was familiar to the mouse already, so it must be the woman’s residence.
A sudden halt had Azul bounce hard against her captor and snap her attention back to her body. She peered around. They had stopped in an unfamiliar corridor. She heard a door open.
She was lowered to the floor and helped toward a chair. Azul dropped onto it, hands covering her stomach and her mouth as she waited for the room to stop spinning.
“What’s this business?” she managed.
The other captor, the one who hadn’t been carrying her and thus wasn’t panting and wiping sweat off her own face, flicked Azul’s earring.
Azul reeled back, too shocked to swat the woman’s hand away.
“We must ask you to stay put,” she said politely but with plenty of amusement, for, really, where would she go? “while our employer requests an audience with the Marquess de Gracia.”
“Couldn’t they simply ask?” Azul retorted.
