Devary arrived at Llandry's door early in the morning. Llandry had been awake for two hours, riveted by the sight of the sun rising outside her window. She longed to be outside to witness this extraordinary event, but there was no balcony, and her experience the evening before made her wary of leaving the Harp. Instead she threw the windows wide open and sat in the window seat, ignoring the chill in the air as darkness gradually melted into day.
Her pendant rested on the low table in the centre of the room. Llandry had taken it out of her cloak pocket as soon as she arrived home and bound it up in cloth and ribbon, concealing the odd lavender-tinged glow that it exuded in this strangely-lit place. She had left it out of her possession knowing that, when it came to it, she would find it hard to give it out of her own hands into Devary's - no matter how willingly offered.
He arrived looking anxious, even guilty. She opened her mouth to tell him about Sigwide's theft but he spoke first.
'Llandry, I'm so sorry - I don't know how - somehow the pendant is gone.' He spoke the last part in a rush. 'I just discovered - I came right away. Are you well? Has anything happened...?' He studied her carefully, looking her up and down as if making sure she was in one piece.
'I'm fine. Sigwide took it.' She explained briefly, leaving out the part about the white-haired woman for now. Devary's face relaxed in relief as she spoke, though he gave the orting a glance of irritation.
'That creature is a liability. I suppose to keep it safe from him, I must wear it. I don't imagine he can spirit it off my neck without alerting me.' He unwrapped the little cloth bundle and fastened the chain around his neck. He smiled at Llandry as the stone disappeared under his shirt.
'We are lucky that nothing too terrible has come of it. And now, I know I promised you that we would see the town, but first I think we must see my friend at the University. Will that be all right?'
Llandry hesitated. She ought to tell him the rest, but he seemed in a hurry to depart. Perhaps they could talk on the way. 'Quite all right,' she answered. Hastily closing the windows, she collected her cloak and donned it. Devary chuckled to see the deep hood shading her eyes, but made no comment.
A small two-wheel carriage waited at the rear of the Silver Harp, with a tall, grey-scaled nivven set into the traces. Devary assisted Llandry into the passenger seat and took up the reins himself, skilfully guiding the vehicle out into the winding streets of Draetre. As they drove, Llandry nibbled a fingernail, undecided. She knew she deserved reproach for her solitary wanderings the night before, so she was reluctant to recount her adventures. But her encounter with the white-haired woman was disturbing. He ought to know. Steeling herself, she interrupted his light-hearted conversation and told him everything. She had some hope that he would dismiss it as unimportant, but of course he didn't. Instead, he was demonstrably uneasy, questioning her minutely as to the particulars.
'Did she tell you her name, or anything about herself?'
'No. I should have thought to ask.'
'Describe her again for me.'
Llandry did so, as closely as she could. Devary frowned, and shook his head.
'Could have been anybody. Did she say why she wanted the pendant?'
'No.'
'Llandry. Did you fly?'
'No.'
'Good. I knew you would have more sense.'
'She guessed where I am from. In fact, I think she may have recognised me. She asked me if I made it. I think... some of those reporters got pictures of me, before Mamma threw them out.'
Devary was silent. At last he said, 'Well then, we had better finish our business quickly.'
Llandry warred with herself, feeling a surge of guilt at his obvious anxiety. She had followed him when she knew she shouldn't, making a burden of herself, and now she had made it worse. But it was humiliating to have to keep apologising for making her own decisions.
He drove for a while in silence. 'I sent a message to your mother last night, informing her of your whereabouts. I also told her I would not be sending you home yet, and that I would ensure that you are safe. It would be ideal if you could refrain from making that harder.'
'Fine. I won't do any more wandering.'
'I am sorry that it must be that way, but it won't last forever. Now, here we are.' He guided the little carriage down an alley, barely wide enough to admit the neat vehicle. Another left turn brought them into a courtyard, inside which a few other carriages were parked. Devary handed her down from the carriage with the utmost politeness, but something in his manner suggested she had annoyed him. Her stomach twisted with miserable anxiety at the idea, and suddenly she was all too inclined to condemn her own behaviour. The notion was frustrating. How long must she rely on others to protect her? And why was Devary's disapproval so painful?
She hid her face in her hood as they passed through a narrow door into a long, oddly winding corridor. Space opened up either side of her, large rooms glimpsed through tall archways as they proceeded rapidly into the heart of the building. She saw bookcases crowded with books and framed with chairs like supplicants before a throne; each chair bore a silent occupant, absorbed in the pages of a volume.
'Where are we?' Her voice emerged startlingly loudly in the hushed atmosphere, echoing off the cool stone walls.
'Draetre's university library.'
'It really doesn't seem large enough to have a university.'
'It's of an unusual kind. Here.' He held open a door for her and she passed through it, registering that Devary locked the door behind them both. She surveyed a chamber smaller than the others they had passed through. A woman sat at a table near the window, studying a large book that lay open before her. The book was evidently very old; its leather covers were tattered and decaying, and its spine was supported upon a soft cushion that lay between it and the desk.
The woman looked up as they entered. Her eyes rested first on Llandry, with a considering stare that made her quite uncomfortable. Apparently around Devary's age, she was clearly Nimdren with her curling chestnut hair and light-coloured eyes. The woman's face changed as she transferred her keen gaze to Devary. She smiled, reluctantly, as if she sought to suppress the expression but it overcame her efforts. She stood up and advanced towards Devary, and he stepped forward to meet her. Llandry noticed that he was wearing the warm smile he'd so often turned on her.
'Indren. It's been far too long.'
'So it has. Your fault for moonlighting so long in Glinnery.' The woman, Indren, smiled all the more as Devary carried her hand to his lips and kissed it lightly.
'And I see you brought one of them back with you.' Indren's eyes, a rather startling pale green, rested again on Llandry.
'Yes, quite an important one. Llandry Sanfaer, Ynara Sanfaer's daughter. You remember Ynara?'
'Yes.' The word was said without inflection, and Llandry wondered whether the recollection was a pleasant one for this stranger.
'Llandry, this is Professor Indren Druaster. She's an expert in Off-World history.'
'Off-Worlds? Both of them?'
'Does that surprise you?' Professor Druaster lifted her brows at Llandry very slightly, laughing at her.
'A little,' mumbled Llandry.
'Nimdre has chained itself to neither, you see, and therefore we may study both with equal attention. Now, what of this trinket?' Professor Druaster turned a winning smile on Devary as she resumed her seat. He sat next to her, gesturing Llandry to a chair opposite.
'It's no trinket.'
'Oh, I am sorry. I understood that it is an item of Ms. Sanfaer's creation?'
Llandry felt a ripple of annoyance, but the implication of the statement passed Devary by. He sat back comfortably, smiling at Llandry as he opened his travel bag.
'Certainly; it is all of her own work.'
'Ah, the famed arts of Glinnery. How I wish I had a little of your creative talent, my dear.' Llandry bristled at the familiar term. She was not fooled: Indren dripped insincerity. It would not be the first time a scholar had looked down on the arts, but nonetheless Llandry felt nettled.
Devary had found the cloth bundle. He unwrapped it carefully and placed the pendant on the table before Indren. Looking at it, Llandry felt a little soothed. Evidently it was a skilled piece of work, whatever a person's feelings as to the value of the aesthetic.
Indren studied it without touching it. She drew an eyeglass from the belt at her waist and examined the stone very closely. Llandry's eyes wandered back to Devary's face. He watched Indren's procedures with apparent absorption.
'An unusual piece.' Indren lifted her head, and Llandry found herself once again subjected to that sharp gaze. 'Where did this come from?'
Llandry was silent. After a moment Devary stepped in, recounting, briefly, the history of Llandry's gem.
'Istore,' said Indren, when he had finished. Her lips twisted in a smile that held a mocking hint. 'A romantic name. You have no idea at all, I suppose, what it is?'
'Elder Ilae Shuly recommended you as a consultant,' interrupted Devary smoothly.
'Ah, Elder Shuly,' she repeated, with obvious approval. 'There's a sharp mind.' She looked back down at the stone, turning it to the light. 'It certainly doesn't originate from the Middle Realms. If anything I'd say it was from the Uppers, but there's something -' She paused. 'There's something of the Lowers about it, too. I might be inclined to conclude it has its origins in both, were that possible.' She smiled in a small way. 'You should've come to me before, Mr. Kant.' She looked under her lashes at him, with a sort of mock severity that Llandry found quite repulsive. Devary shrugged and laughed.
'I'm but a poor scholar. How could I guess it would fall under your area of expertise?'
'Well. Attend me to dinner, and I may be able to forgive you.' She smiled at him, and he gave her a half-bow in response. She looked back at Llandry and the smile faded.
'You must both come. I will tell you more about this stone tomorrow, when I have had chance to study it further.'
Llandry felt a prickle of alarm. Suspicion and dislike made her bold, and she spoke up. 'The pendant stays with Devary.'
Indren's eyebrows rose. 'Oh?' Llandry's words withered away under that mocking stare, but she met the woman's insolent gaze without flinching.
'You did bring it here to be studied, I suppose?'
Llandry inclined her head.
Indren offered her a thin, false smile. 'Very well. If the pendant must stay with Mr. Kant, then Mr. Kant must stay with me. He will be happy to stand guard over me, I am sure: just in case I should try anything inappropriate with your "istore" stone.'
Devary cast Llandry a quizzical glance, and shrugged. 'Certainly,' he said to Indren.
'Ms. Sanfaer may amuse herself in the reading rooms, I've no doubt.' Indren was now outright frosty. Llandry was not wounded: on the contrary she was happy to go.
Llandry was left to her own devices for most of the day. Devary emerged from time to time to check on her, and repeatedly invited her to rejoin them, but she steadfastly refused. She wouldn't be volunteering for any more of the Professor's obvious disdain. It was bad enough that Devary could be close to such a chilly, cruel woman.
She asked him about it during one of his lamentably brief visits to her reading nook, but he was evasive.
'We have known each other for some time. She can be difficult, but... well. I must go back, if you are comfortable.'
'Bored senseless, and therefore, duly punished for my rebellion. It's been hours. Are you making any progress at all in there?'
Devary drew up a chair and sat down, though he sat on the very edge as if he intended to leave any moment. 'Some of Indren's colleagues have joined us. The consensus is that it is not a stone, as some of your friends have suspected. The current theory under investigation is that it is in fact biological matter.'
Llandry was startled. 'As in, from an animal?'
Devary hesitated. 'Yes. Perhaps. You must understand, this is only an idea. It may be discounted any moment, and another idea brought forward. But it would not be the first time that animal parts have been employed for magical uses.' He stood up, smiling down at her. 'You will forgive the brevity of my visit, but I am needed. We are consulting the university's rarer books - they have collections from the Darklands as well as the Daylands - and the search may take days. It will go faster if I involve myself.'
'Perhaps I should help?' Llandry hesitated to say it, picturing a roomful of studious strangers with horror. Before she was halfway through her sentence, Devary was already gone.
***
It was growing late, and Llandry was growing very hungry, when Devary finally emerged with Professor Druaster behind him. They both looked tired, but the Professor's eyes were alight with excitement. The two of them talked in Nimdren, probably discussing the istore. Llandry could only wish she could understand.
Devary's eye fell on her belatedly, and he smiled apologetically. 'Apologies, Llandry, we are being rude. We have made much progress, but there is a great deal still to do. It is time to stop for the day, and find something to eat.'
They were to go across town for dinner, it emerged, to a popular food garden; its name, the Adriana Gardens, brought a pleased smile to Devary's face as Professor Druaster announced her plan for the evening.
'How long is it since you were there, Devary dear?' Llandry didn't miss the fact that she was now using his first name.
'Must be a year. More, even.'
'Ah! Then you missed out on the fireworks displays; stupendous, truly, and only offered for the anniversary. There are new menus - all your favourites are still available, Devary dear, I put a word in the proprietress's ear about that - and the desserts are particularly fine.'
The Professor's easy chatter ran on, directed entirely at Devary. Llandry followed them out of the building and watched as Devary handed the Professor into a smart new carriage and followed her inside. Llandry, left to make her own way, was not particularly mollified by Devary's apologetic smile as he realised his oversight. She ignored him.
Professor Druaster's carriage was a handsome affair, well upholstered and finely made. Its mistress sat back upon the plush seating with a proprietorial air and a satisfied smile.
'I could hardly allow you to drive all that way in that appalling little gig of yours, Devary.'
Devary chuckled. 'It's a faithful old thing, Indren. I've had it a long time, and it's never failed me yet.'
Indren wrinkled her nose disapprovingly. 'Yes, but no doubt it will, Devary dear. Besides, a gentleman deserves luxury.' The smile she offered with this pronouncement sickened Llandry anew, but Devary smiled back readily enough.
Llandry turned her attention away and looked out of the window as the twilit streets rolled by. She was restored to her favourite blue cloak, the hood shading her eyes and guarding the play of expression on her face. She was not afraid of her disgust being perceived by Indren Druaster: the woman was far too absorbed by Devary. It was Devary's perception of it that she wished to avoid.
The journey was moderately long given the event, but at last the carriage rolled to a gentle stop. Devary jumped out and immediately made a point of handing Llandry down first. She shook out her clothes, shivering a little in the cool air. The building that rose before her was quite low, only one storey, with balconies clustering around the roofline. The roof itself was flat and open, verdantly decorated with lush greenery that trailed in long tendrils to the ground. Diners sat up high at low tables, bathed in the cool moonlight. Llandry could hear strains of music drifting down from above.
The same scene was repeated at the rear of the building. Indren's party was quickly led to a choice table in a shady alcove, slightly screened from the chatter and stares of the other diners. Llandry took her seat reluctantly, feeling that the evening could not end soon enough.
She had expected to feel like an intruder, and so she did. Indren was just polite enough to speak in Llandry's own tongue, but she made no attempt at all to include her in conversation, talking exclusively to Devary about people, places and events relevant only to they two. At first Devary was mindful of Llandry's presence, recommending her choices from the menu, addressing remarks to her and frequently offering her a smile. She was soothed and comfortable as long as he remembered her, but as the evening went on he remembered her less and less.
They had been seated barely twenty minutes before a stranger approached the table. Her curvaceous silhouette and sinuous walk made her femininity quite clear as she swayed up to Devary. Their conversation was conducted in Devary's native language, the fluid Nimdren tongue which sounded so beautiful when he sang. Llandry didn't understand a word, but that it was an intimate conversation was clear enough. The woman flirted aggressively with him, ignoring Indren Druaster's obvious contempt and apparently failing to notice Llandry at all. Devary's manner to her was a little reserved, she was thankful to note, but still he bore with her impolite behaviour with much more grace than Llandry thought reasonable. At last the woman departed.
Several other diners visited their table over the course of the meal - most of them women - and Llandry was obliged to watch the same scene play itself out again and again. In between interruptions, Indren Druaster continued to monopolise Devary's conversation, often slipping into Nimdren. Devary glanced often at Llandry and she sensed that he wished to include her more, but he would not stir himself to interrupt Indren. Mortified, Llandry could not summon any appetite no matter how many temptingly fragrant dishes were placed before them, and at last she abandoned the struggle to let it all pass her by. She stood up, raising her hood.
'I'm going for a walk,' she said. 'It's beautiful here.' She did not wait for their response but set off immediately, aiming for the garden that lay behind the restaurant.
'Don't go too far, Llandry,' she heard Devary say behind her. She did not need to go far: merely out of sight and hearing would be enough.
Peace enveloped her as she reached a pretty grove of trees. The babble of the food garden receded into near silence and the heat and bustle was replaced by coolness and a soft breeze. She sighed, turning her face up to the winds.
These terrible, bold women. All of them had trouble written across them in every particular. She felt that none of them - most especially including Professor Druaster - would be a good choice for any sort of dalliance. She couldn't decide whether Devary saw it or not. If he did, why did he tolerate their intrusive attentions?
She did not need to ask herself why they flocked to Devary. It was that damned chivalrous courtesy; his understated warmth and gentleness; certainly his handsome features and winning smile. He offered them little gestures: a kiss of the hand; a special smile; the gift of a flower; a gently solicitous question or remark. None of these things were particular in themselves, but together they amounted to a distinct appearance of special interest. They were so easily caught by it; they received a little and offered everything in return.
Simultaneously the worst and best of it was that Devary seemed entirely unconscious of the effect his manner had on the women around him. Perhaps he wasn't. Llandry would prefer to believe him unaware; the possibility that he cultivated it made him appear a wholly different person to the man she'd known in Glinnery. She was sharply reminded of her own lack of experience with people. There was no way she could decipher what Devary's behaviour meant.
Distant diamond stars twinkled through the shady, moon-silvered canopy of the trees, so very far away. She took a few deep breaths of heady twilight air, feeling gradually more refreshed. A gust of wind ruffled her hair, and the ghost of a smile crossed her face as the peace of the woods filled her and she finally began to relax.
A sudden, sharp cracking sound rent the air, emanating from behind her. Footsteps sounded, loud and close. Before she could turn, hands grabbed hard at her, bruising her flesh. She cried out as much with surprise as with pain; her twilight reverie dissolved and a surge of fear filled her. She struggled hard, kicking and shouting. A hand closed over her mouth, cutting off her protests, and she was lifted and dragged backwards.