Shadowkill

13

Morning.

He collected a fork, a spoon, a plate and a cup from the kitchen, then followed the girl carrying breakfast into Rose’s room, waited in a corner while she laid out the meal on the table, knocked on the bedroom, got an answer, then left.

Rose came out yawning, blinked when she saw Kikun sitting at the table sipping at pinkish-yellow fruit juice from a crystal pitcher. She looked over her shoulder, shrugged, came across and sat down. “I don’t know who’s listening.”

Kikun leaned back, watched her pour the rest of the juice into her glass. “No one.”

She pulled her mouth into an inverted smile, shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said, “maybe so. Well?”

“Found it. There’s a park out back, chain fence around it. Guards. Three flits in there. Black and silver one with some kind of sigil on it, that’s probably his. Didn’t try to get to it. No point in that, not yet. It’ll be locked. He’s either carrying the keys or has them in his rooms. I’ll take a look there during the first break. See what I can find.” He yawned, yawned again.

“You look like someone’s sucked the air out.”

“Just tired. Lot of things going on. Takes it out of you, you know.”

“Kuna, nothing’s going to happen today, except more of the same. Why don’t you stay here and sleep?”

“It’s an idea.”

“Have a nice hot bath, stretch out on the bed. It’s a good bed,, comfortable, lovely sheets, like this…” she smoothed her hand along the heavy silken stuff of her dress, “only white.”

“You sold me.” He got to his feet. “You’re just a wall away. You need help, scream.”

She giggled. “Go to bed, Kuna. Scream, huh! Not likely.”

He wriggled all over, shaking his skin along his bones, then strolled out.

The bed was as comfortable as promised.

He stripped, stretched out between the sheets, started to sigh and was deep asleep before the sigh was finished.

Grandmother Ghost the Lael-Lenox pinched him awake a short time before the maid came in to make the bed and straighten the rooms.

Kikun pulled on his clothes and strolled out.

Rose was talking with the Pirate who was describing an improbable fish he’d encountered in the Southern seas. Kikun listened a moment, drifted on. Must be using him as shield against the High Vaar, he thought. Tlee! what a bore. He stopped beside her chair, raised his brows. The small table where her stake was piled was bowed under the weight of the gold on it, more rouleaux piled beneath it and around its legs. Rose could have herself cast lifesize in gold and make herself half a dozen copies. How we’re supposed to cart that off, even a third of it…

Grandmother Ghost leaned into him, inspecting the pile: Yellow peril, sad stuff, poison stuff, that chile has the right idea, baby.

Otter giggled, faded when Grandmother turned to glare at him. He’d suffered his share of pinches and scolds and wasn’t looking for more.

Blackbear touched Kikun’s arm.

The maids were coming from the suites. They circled the room and left.

Kikun yawned and went to search Barracuda’s room.

Rose shook him awake.

He sat up, bleary-eyed and yawning.

She laughed. “Scream, hunh!”

“What?”

“Just a comment, not a summons. Supper’s laid. Get yourself up, wash your dishes, come join me.”