Free Palatine First (The Aurelian Archives) by Courtney Grace Powers

dock. Gideon was towering behind Hayden, watching Liem. In the far corner, Nivy had something cupped in her hands and held at eye level so she could stare at it intently.
    “Nivy,” Liem said sharply, and clucked his tongue. “Come. It’s time for tea.”
    “Haven’t you had enough ‘tea’?” Reece muttered. Liem’s jaw tightened.
    Nivy looked at Liem sideways, impassive, before unfolding her hands. A glowbug crept over her palm, and she blew it away, sending it into the air like a tiny shooting star. Taking her time, she stood, dusted her hands, and then strode past the lot of them as if they were invisible. Liem made an indignant noise and stalked after her without another word.
    “What did she want?” Reece wondered aloud.
    “Nothin’ I can figure.” Gideon shrugged. “Just came and sat there. Think she was spyin’?”
    “For Liem? Unlikely. She’s not his fiancé.”
    Hayden looked surprised. He didn’t like to think of people as liars, as they generally were. “No?”
    “No. She’s his…” Reece began slowly, trying to make sense of all he had learned in the tower. It was like looking under a Dryad’s communication board and trying to pick out the one snaking red thread in the tangle of panel feed wires. “Actually, I don’t know quite what she is.”
    He started walking away from the dock, down a path that would circle up to the front of the mansion after it meandered through a plot of forest perfect for muffling what he had to say. Gideon and Hayden followed and listened.
    Neither said much, but it wasn’t for lack of thought, because at the end of the path and the end of the story, when the friends stood waiting for the servants to retrieve Hayden and Gideon’s bims, Gideon said, “Here,” and held out an Automatic Laser Projector that could’ve fit in Reece’s palm. Count on Gid to find a way to pack at least one gun, even if it was the smallest in his arsenal.
    “Might want to be keepin’ that close. I got a feelin’.”
    Hiding the ALP in his waistcoat, Reece raised an eyebrow. Gideon’s telltale feelings rarely missed their mark.
    “Be careful, Reece,” Hayden added, pointedly avoiding looking where he had slipped the ALP. “If it looks like—” He nearly leaped right out of his clothes as a terrible crack of thunder cut him short.
    Looking skyward, Gideon frowned. “Don’t recall hearin’ any storm warnin’s.”
    A raindrop, fat and cold, caught Reece on the cheek. “Me neither.”
    Even this far into the countryside, the foul weather foghorns in the city of Caldonia blared at unnecessary decibels. Maybe they’d been too immersed in their conversation to hear. Or maybe the foghorns were just one more thing that wasn’t quite right about these days.

     
    VII
     
    Glances
     
     
    After Gideon and Hayden’s taillights had disappeared into the heavily dark night, Reece jogged around the mansion till he came to the private iron staircase climbing to meet the door of his personal chambers. He’d have to have a death wish before dragging his soaking wet self through Emathia with Abigail on the prowl, looking for something to bite after her spat with Liem.
    His suite was sprawling and luxurious, neat bordering on the absurd. Its green-quilted canopy bed (three times the size of his bunk at The Owl) was made perfectly, no wrinkles, no crooked pillows. The rest of its furniture, nightstands and bookshelves, a wardrobe, desk, and leather armchair, had probably never seen a mote of dust. There was nothing of Reece to the room at all. He didn’t dare keep out the drawings Sophie had made him, or his borrowed book on Handling, or even his lucky riding gloves, because he’s made that mistake before, and it seemed the servants all had orders from Abigail to sequester anything that suggested he had any more personality than the rest of the Sheppards. Sighing, Reece pulled out Gid’s ALP and slid it between his two mattresses.
    In the suite’s head, he dropped his clothes on