Scholar of Decay Read Free Page A

the stranger’s receding back.
    “Try to remember,” Aurek murmured by the younger man’s ear, “that it is in our best interests to get along with these people.”
    “Your best interests.” Leaping out onto the dock before the mooring lines were secure, Dmitri tossed golden blond hair back out of violet eyes and scowled. “I don’t even want to be here.”
    Aurek ignored him. What Dmitri did or did not want had little bearing on the situation. The moment the boy had attracted Ivana Boritsi’s usually fatal attention, he had no choice but to leave Borca. When Aurek had informed his sisters he was traveling to Richemulot, they informed him in turn that his youngest sibling would be accompanying him. He’d argued against it, but he might as well have saved his breath. “If he stays, he dies,” their eldest sister told him shortly. “While we’re sorry about your loss, you have no more choice in this than he does.”
    “I’ll have no time to take care of him.”
    “He’s not a child, Aurek. He can take care of himself.”
    That had yet to be proven to Aurek’s satisfaction, but so far,at least, the boy had not gotten in his way.
    Eyes narrowed, Aurek turned to the terrified boatman. The man had come very close to involving him in exactly the sort of situation he wanted to avoid. “That was your one chance,” he said softly. “You will not cause me another moment of trouble, for any reason.”
    Expecting to die, the boatman was emboldened by this astonishing show of mercy from a foreign noble. “Th-They’ll come after me, sir!”
    Aurek allowed himself a small, tight smile as he remembered the dawning realization in the expression of the young stranger who’d confronted them. “No, I don’t think so. Not as long as you remain in my employ.”
    He paused for a moment on the dock and looked back out over the river. The reflection of the house on the water made it seem as if a second party were taking place in the murky depths below. Which, he wondered, is the more dangerous of the two? Catching sight of a wedge-shaped shadow swimming just beneath the surface of the water, he watched the V of the creature’s passage until it left the light.

    A glass of pale wine in one hand, Aurek circled the ballroom, watching, listening, learning the patterns of Pont-a-Museau. These were the aristocrats of the city, those fortunate few with power or position or merely the right connections.
    He had been given a letter of introduction to Joelle Milette, the evening’s hostess, by one of the travelers he’d questioned. The letter had gained him a brief meeting with her, which had in turn brought an invitation to this, the first party of the autumn Season. That the invitation had been offered with an obviousulterior motive was unimportant. In order for his search to proceed smoothly—and the search was all that mattered—it was essential that he convince the Lord of Richemulot to allow him the freedom of the city.
    Almost lost in a flurry of shredded silk, Dmitri danced by with a striking young woman who shared a similarity of features with the six youths at the dock. The face turned up to his brother’s was pointed in all the same places.
    His own face expressionless, Aurek scanned the crowd, noting the evidence of a predominant bloodline. Noting how certain eyes glittered more brightly. Certain smiles showed more teeth. Small, compact bodies made movements so lithe and liquid that the people surrounding them seemed coarse and ungainly. For those who cared, or dared to look, it became obvious that Pont-a-Museau revolved around this extended family. They laughed at, not with, the other guests … laughter that held a feral edge and the intimacy of a secret shared.
    Whispered rumors that had reached over the border into Borca were apparently true. Pont-a-Museau was swarming with wererats, and the lycanthropes were quite clearly in control. The other citizens of the city either didn’t care or were doing their best