Free Blood Spirits by Sherwood Smith Page B

person? He was back at work the next morning. All things considered, probably better if you don’t go chasing all over the city trying to find him. First thing in the morning, go to the main gate. My guess is the Vigilzhi will wave you right in, and direct you to the right place.”
    Wave me right in. So much for the anonymity of winter clothing.
    â€œGot it,” I said, rising.
    She grinned and bopped me lightly on the shoulder. “Despite my having hexed you steadily for months, I think you’re good people. Go for it. Anything I can do—”
    â€œIf you’ll promise me one thing?”
    â€œYeah?”
    I put my hands to my heart. “You’ll pick up the pieces after, whatever happens.”
    She laughed again. “Dude. Report back. I want the full Monty.”
    I might not get even a partial Monty, I thought as I bundled up and left. But I was going to try.
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    Darkness had descended during the short time I was inside, and the temperature had dropped even farther, which I hadn’t thought possible. I found an empty inkri at the bottom of Nat’s street and, with gratitude, hailed the driver. As the sleigh skidded downhill toward the Waleskas’, the frigid air carried the melodic rise and fall of singing, sweet and pure as the shivering of crystal. Somewhere, people wandered about singing carols. The smell of braised or baked pork was pungent, and I wondered if some strata of Dobreni society celebrated a version of the Romanian Ignat.
    When I reached the inn, Madam offered to serve me dinner and brought enough food for a platoon of marines. I ate, read until my eyes swam, and went to bed early, listening to the faint sounds of carolers walking up and down the streets.
    The chill that had gripped my bones when Natalie told me Ruli was dead did not fade. When I got out of bed to figure out how to turn up the radiator, I discovered that my room was icy. I burrowed down in the thick coverlet and shut my eyes . . . and spent the rest of the night waking up from heart-pounding nightmares. Car crashes, fires, a horrible dream about standing in a garden looking up as snow fell, my limbs gradually freezing as the air got colder and colder.
    I woke to the bleak, watery light of a winter dawn. My hands and feet were numb with cold. I felt the radiator. Warm. But the warmth seemed to dissipate within inches.
    My head throbbed, my skin hurt. Noises were sharp, almost distorted. I went to the bathroom, relieved to find it empty in spite of all those guests. As the hot water slowly filled the tub, I wondered if I was getting sick—not only my body, but the entire world seemed askew. Guilt for coming here? I peered in the small mirror on the old plaster wall, glaring at my own bloodshot eyes.
    Help me , Ruli had said.
    I got into the tub, concentrated on my tai chi breathing as I soaked, and when I got out of the bath, I moved through some of the tai chi forms I’d been learning, as I had not found a fencing club in Fort Williams. Then I went down to a good breakfast and, after eating, felt human enough to face the interview I wanted. Dreaded. Wanted.
    How could I help Ruli now? How could I help him? Because one thing I was sure of: There was no way that he would cause an ‘accident’ just to get rid of an inconvenient wife, no matter what rumors might be circulating. Rumors, I was willing to bet any sum of money, had to have at their center Tony’s mother, the evil duchess, who had once smilingly asked me to call her Tante Sisi.
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    By ten I reached the great gates of the Royal Residence.
    Its walls gleamed warmly gold in the wintry sunlight, reminding me again of Schönbrunn Palace outside Vienna. The snow-covered grounds were smooth either side of the pathway. Few people were around—no tourists lined up at the gate or shuffling behind a guide. A Vigilzhi in the well-remembered blue-piped-with-scarlet uniform, caped and gloved, peered at me. I hadn’t