Scholar of Decay Read Free Page B

to deliberately not see a situation they could do nothing to change. Aurek wondered, not for the first time, if he should warn Dmitri, but decided, yet again, that he should not. His younger brother was handsome, and by all accounts, personable and proficient in a number of physical activities, but Aurek had often suspected he wasn’t particularly intelligent. If feigned ignorance of the situation was what it took to survive, Dmitri had best remain ignorant in truth, for his ability to dissemble was nearly nonexistent.
    “I love to watch the young folks having a good time,” declared a middle-aged man, suddenly standing by Aurek’s side. He swung hisgoblet toward the dance floor, slopping the contents up his sleeve, new stains covering old. “The ladies certainly have noticed that brother of yours.” Completely unaware of the astonished distaste directed toward him, he chuckled and set greasy jowls quivering. “That’s a lad ripe for adventure. I hope your family doesn’t expect you to keep him out of trouble.”
    “He is not a child,” Aurek replied coldly, echoing his sister’s words. “He can take care of himself.” Stepping fastidiously back, he inclined his head and walked away.
    From a table filled with drinking vessels of every shape and size, from squat pewter cups to gleaming crystal flutes, Aurek exchanged his empty glass for a full one and continued pacing around the ballroom. He had no idea what had drawn that disgusting man to his side, but he had every intention of making himself a moving target so that it wouldn’t happen again.
    He recognized neither the dances nor the music the dancers moved to, but that was hardly surprising, as he’d spent most of his life with books and scrolls. The room itself was worthy of attention. Great swaths of gold satin hung in tentlike folds from an immense plaster rose in the center of the ceiling, their ends looped through the gilded arms of grotesque statues that lined the walls. If the fabric had been intended to compress the formidable dimensions of the room, it failed, for there was so much of it, the size of the room had to be acknowledged in order to cope. A closer look determined that the fabric was mildewed, and much of the gilding had flaked off the statues’ arms. Tiles were missing from the intricate pattern once laid out in the parquet floor, and those that remained were scuffed and stained. The flocked wallpaper dangled in damp streamers in several places, and it seemed as though something had chewed the carved frame of a huge mirror all along one …
    Mirror.
    Aurek’s heart stopped. A wild-haired man stared out at him from behind the refection of his shoulder. Heavy-lidded eyes widened in mock astonishment. Thin lips parted in a burst of manic laughter, but no sound emerged. The wineglass slipped from nerveless fingers as, sweat beading his forehead, Aurek whirled.
    No laughing wizard stood behind him.
    Forcing his gaze back to the mirror, he could see only a shaken reflection of himself, his face even paler than usual. His hands curled into fists. “You’re dead,” he whispered through clenched teeth. “Leave me alone.”
    When the music stopped and a rising babble of voices indicated that someone of note had arrived, he moved across the dance floor toward the noise, grateful for the distraction. As he walked away from the mirror, the skin crawled between his shoulder blades. Let the dead mock him; he would not turn.
    “Aurek, darling, there you are.” Joelle Milette appeared out of the crowd, wrapped a hand possessively around his elbow, and dragged him forward. “My cousins have arrived, and you have to meet them. Where’s that lovely brother of yours? Oh, there he is.” Changing course slightly, she snagged Dmitri as well and hurried them both out through a semicircle of guests calling supplicant greetings. “Jacqueline, Louise, these are the two gentlemen I was telling you about: Aurek and Dmitri Nuikin.”
    Suddenly released,