"I didn't shoot her attacker," Farrier ground out, and Luka rocked back on his heels.

"I don't understand. You said you were there in time."

"We were." Farrier waited for the significance of his words to hit.

Luka's expression went slack. He turned for the first time toward Officer Matlock, who still sat against the wall, though his posture had changed. He was now leaning back and gazing at the ceiling, idly rubbing his hands together as though awaiting a verdict. Fear clutched at me, for this was not the young man I knew. Tom was always confident, alert, and in control of every situation. He was the one human I'd never been able to fool. This new Tom, this subdued Tom, made my heart ache.

"You were the one I a.s.signed to protect her," Luka said accusingly to Farrier, his emotion skirting the line between white-hot anger and despair.

"He didn't give me the chance, sir." The reply was barely audible, and he shot a disapproving glance at Tom that perplexed me. How could he condemn his partner for taking an action he had apparently been about to carry out himself?

Luka ran a hand down his pale face. "I understand."

He stepped around Farrier, but not to come to me. He went to crouch in front of Tom, resting a fist on the bench next to his Constabulary so they were at eye level with one another.

"I want to see her," Tom said in place of the deferential greeting I expected. He tried to stand, but Luka halted him with a hand square on his chest. Tom sank back down, his expression suggesting he was too dazed to put up a struggle. The men, one ripe with status, experience, and wealth, the other barely brushing his modestly lived twentieth year, were eye to eye again.

"No," Luka replied, a simple, incontestable order. "She's fine." Making sure Tom was looking at his face, he added, "Thanks to you, I understand." He paused, letting the statement resonate. "Are you all right?"

Tom covered his face with both hands and nodded. Then he reiterated, "I want to see her."

Luka straightened and snapped his fingers for Farrier, and the Constable came to his side so quickly it seemed he had sensed the command before he'd received it.

"Get him home," the Lieutenant Governor directed, releasing a heavy sigh.

Perplexed but mesmerized, I blatantly watched the scene from my cell. Never would I have imagined Luka despondent, but he certainly seemed unhappy with the way the events of the night had played out. Why?

Marcus Farrier gripped Tom's shoulder, urging him to his feet.

"No, wait," Luka interrupted, one hand ma.s.saging his forehead. "Take him to his mother's. Tell her what happened."

Farrier gave a quick bob of his head in apparent approval of the decision. Then he escorted Tom out of the station house. I gulped, any courage I still possessed dissipating. The only person I thought I could count on to advocate for me had just left the building.

Luka at last directed his attention to me, and I trembled, struggling to meet his gaze. I knew from the att.i.tudes of the men under the Lieutenant Governor's command that he generated tremendous respect. He would not be an easy man to placate. And I was not in a position to negotiate.

Chapter Ten.

PAIN AND PERSEVERANCE.

The two guards who had been standing watch over me bent slightly at the waist when Luka entered the cell, then stiffened their spines to come to attention, hands clasped behind their backs. The members of the Ivanova family weren't royalty, but it appeared they were treated as such, perhaps more so than my own relation. Queen Ubiqua had never alienated her people with undue formalities. She accepted the reverence given freely to her, but I hadn't once seen her demand it.

Luka waved his men away, his sapphire-blue eyes drilling into me, and I fought to keep my emotions in check. Part of me wanted to cry, another part wanted to confess, and still another part wanted to appear calm and stoic. But my strongest desire was to ask about Tom, to find out what was wrong with him. In the end, however, I waited for the Lieutenant Governor to fire the first shot.

Luka took a chair opposite me, laying his lithe, heavily ringed fingers on the rickety table that separated us. He perused me, and sweat began to trickle down my back. Questioning I could handle, a staring contest I could not.

At last he spoke. "First, allow me to congratulate you on your unexpected disguise, Princess. Blond hair. No wonder my men had trouble finding you. And how is your wrist? I presume it's broken. Did the doctor give you something for the pain?"

I watched him warily, wondering what game he was playing. This didn't strike me as the normal course for an interrogation.

"My wrist will be fine. And the doctor offered me something, but I refused. I want to keep my wits about me."

"Admirable, but unnecessary under the circ.u.mstances. You see-we know who you are. So before anything else is said, I must apologize to you profoundly and profusely."

My jaw dropped, and a touch of a smile played on Luka's face. If not for the aches in virtually every inch of my body, I would have thought myself hallucinating.

"You are a princess among Fae, Anya, and therefore a princess among men. You will be charged with no crimes because of the crimes committed against you. The loss of your wings...that I let you walk out of my office with but a pouch of coin for your troubles...that I didn't ascertain your ident.i.ty by your royal ring that very instant... No apology I can extend is sufficient." His voice grew thick with an emotion I did not understand. "What you have suffered is unforgivable. And tonight-tonight was a mistake. My mistake."

He hung his head, jaw tight, then stretched his neck to one side. Composure regained, he released his breath in a slow exhale that seemed to affect every inch of his body. Tension flowed out of him, leaving the impression of a lounging, predatory animal.

"Why didn't you tell me who you were?" he asked, resuming what I still considered an interrogation, no matter how unexpected its course.

"Because I didn't want you to know."

It was the simplest and most truthful answer-also the least revealing. Could I trust that my freedom would come so easily? Besides, he didn't need to know that Queen Ubiqua had warned me against making contact with Zabriel's human relations.

Luka was waiting for me to speak, so I diverted his attention, not wanting him to pry further into the reasons behind my self-inflicted anonymity.

"What happened tonight? How were Matlock and Farrier there so quickly? And that man...the man who attacked me..."

I peered at him, sensitive for any reaction. All he provided was a rueful shake of his head.

"I know the man only as a former prison guard here in Tairmor by the name of Pritchard Hastings. He was given an a.s.signment some time ago to rehabilitate a boy for whom my father had some sympathy. He disappeared. So did the boy. No more was known of the affair until Hastings's name resurfaced by coincidence."

Luka paused, and my thoughts whirled. He had to be talking about Spex. So who had given Hastings his orders? How had he come to use Spex in the scheme to spot and abduct Fae? Why had he been the one to arrest Zabriel on Evernook Island? And how much did the Lieutenant Governor, and perhaps the Governor himself, know about all of this? Hastings had been with Spex at the execution of the young man's father, after all-he could not have completely disappeared from the eyes of the Governor despite Luka's a.s.sertions. In the midst of overwhelming uncertainty, there was one belief to which I clung: Evernook Island had been established for military use, and that meant the forces that had conspired to create the h.e.l.l we had discovered were inexplicably intermingled with the government. This was a puzzle with ma.s.sive pieces missing, threads that trailed into smoke. But there was someone with significant power manipulating the game, and that person had to be weeded out.

But none of my concerns were addressed when the Lieutenant Governor continued, leaning forward to rest his forearms on the table.

"This, I'm afraid, is where my series of mistakes begins. If I'm correct, you went to the Fae-mily Home sometime after your return to Tairmor and were concealed from me there."

I flushed, shame creeping inside me like an unreachable itch, though there was no reason for it. I had every right to conceal myself if I wished to do so.

"I asked Fi not to-"

"I know. And she didn't say a word to me, despite how many times I asked after you."

He didn't sound upset-more like he was making a point about having placed my faith well-but I couldn't be sure of anything when it came to him. Luka Ivanova wore sincerity like a second skin, exuding an earnestness that begged confidence, but there was an unflappability beneath it all that was most unsettling. He was too smooth, too controlled, too much a politician. And that made him unpredictable.

Luka was studying me, his eyes slightly narrowed, and my senses rallied to full alert. I was being set up.

"I'm afraid, however, that Fi is more compa.s.sionate than she is trustworthy," he remarked, and every muscle in my body tensed. "She was worried, and she brought word of you to one of my Constabularies-Officer Matlock, with whom she knew you to have a rapport. She asked him to be discreet, and with his typical liberal interpretation of instructions, he discreetly carried the news straight to me."

Anger bubbled up inside me, and I scowled. Had I no friends in this city? It was wonderful that Fi had such a compa.s.sionate nature, but compa.s.sion could take someone too far-she had to learn to keep her nose out of other people's business.

"So you've been following me," I muttered through gritted teeth, my heart rate climbing. Had he learned of my Cysur use? Had he gained additional leverage to use against me? In an effort to mimic his relaxed posture, I leaned back, cradling my throbbing wrist.

"Afraid so. Officer Matlock trailed you to the antiquities shop and reported that you were looking for something-a relic that might put you in danger. I should have had you intercepted immediately, but my instincts as the chief law enforcement officer in the Territory took over. I felt compelled to learn your goal, and doubted you'd be open with me if I prevented you from pursuing it. Constable Farrier was to let you carry out your plans, protect you throughout, and take you into custody thereafter."

"And Hastings?" My sense of control was returning, for I was now confident my drug habit had not been discovered. Tom had trailed me only to the antiquities shop, a visit that occurred after my last excursion to The River's End. On that point I was certain, because Tom would have stopped me from obtaining the Cysur, regardless of his orders from Luka.

"Ah yes, earlier I said his name resurfaced by coincidence. We had reason to suspect him of a recent home invasion and the murder of a guard who worked at the West Gate. I had no idea he was after you." He paused, and I examined his eyes, not believing his last a.s.sertion, though I desperately wanted to accept his earlier one-that Hastings had murdered the Constabulary. "Now I am left to wonder if you know of any connection between that incident and tonight's affair."

It wasn't phrased as a question. I could tell from the way he sat in comfortable silence, tapping a single finger in a slow rhythm on the table while he awaited my response, that he already knew the answer.

"Perhaps the guard knew something about me." My reply was carefully phrased, for I did not want my own actions against the Constabulary to come to light, despite Luka's a.s.sertion that I'd been granted immunity.

"Perhaps."

Luka calmly watched me for several moments, then abruptly came to his feet. Apparently tired of wasting time, he placed his palms flat on the table, looming toward me, his aspect grim.

"Whatever you were after, Hastings wanted it and so did the person you partnered with tonight. It appears he made off with it in all the confusion." He let his words resonate in the small cell, and I felt like a mouse about to be devoured by a cat. "Have you considered that he and Hastings might have worked in concert?"

I stared at him, nonplussed. I hadn't considered anything, hadn't had a chance to process the chain of events that had landed me in this station house. I'd barely had my wrist set and bound, barely caught my breath. And now Luka was insinuating I had been betrayed yet again. Desperate for answers, I opened my mouth to speak; then a warning flashed in my head. This was exactly how the Lieutenant Governor wanted me to feel.

Though it took tremendous effort, I slowed my thoughts and stilled my chaotic emotions. Having grown up the daughter of the Lord of the Law in the Faerie Realm, I knew a few things about interrogation techniques. Luka was attempting-laudably, if ign.o.bly-to alarm me into some kind of confession. I stood and met his gaze, letting the blankets slide off my shoulders and onto the bench.

"Whether those two worked in concert hardly matters now, does it?" Though my brain was stuck on four words-Spex has the Anlace, Spex has the Anlace-my mouth kept moving, miraculously forming coherent sentences. "Besides, I didn't locate the relic I sought. So I wouldn't know what my partner took with him when he left me to die."

I glared at Luka, my words once more carefully selected. I wasn't lying. I hadn't located the Anlace-Spex had. Nor did I personally know whether he had taken it with him or not. Desperation gnawed at me, though I refused to let it show on my face. How could I have come so close only to lose the Anlace a second time? Gwyneth be d.a.m.ned-I should never have trusted Spex. I had ended up with nothing to show for my efforts; nothing to redeem me in the eyes of my family.

"Well, that should be a pleasure to tell Mr. Sandrovich," Luka wryly commented, straightening to his full height. "We had to twist his arm to get him out of his house for the night. He threatened us with all the powers of heaven and h.e.l.l if we didn't protect his precious artifacts."

At my questioning gaze, he waved a hand in the air as though swatting a fly.

"Yes, of course we knew your plans. Not that hard to determine, in truth. And once we knew them, we had no need to follow you. We only needed to keep an eye on the house.

"Now back to your partner. Interestingly, my men recognized him. He's the young man I referred to earlier, the one my father thought could be rehabilitated. Name of Haruspex Eskander, if memory serves. I would like to know where he might have gone."

"I have no idea."

"He a.s.sists you with the break-in, and you have no idea where he might go? I find that hard to believe."

Though I tried to control my reaction, my breathing quickened, for this was the first time I'd considered the question. Might Spex contact Gwyneth? Or even Shea? My former friend was probably in Tairmor by now. It depended on whether he was honorable. Most likely he was in the wind.

"I guess I don't plan very well."

Luka gave me a pained smile. "I also find that difficult to believe. No matter-there are ways to flush him out of hiding. Are you aware his mother and sister await execution in Tairmor's prison? I wonder how far off their date with the plank might be. I suspect that could get his attention."

My eyes widened. Was he really suggesting what I thought he was suggesting? Not wanting to be responsible for the execution of the rest of Spex's family, I gave him a small piece of information.

"I met Spex in Oaray, getting forged travel doc.u.ments. Perhaps he's gone back there."

Luka drummed his fingers once more, considering me, and I squirmed. "That begs the question of how you contacted him when you realized you needed help getting into Sandrovich's home. Care to enlighten me?"

My heart was now drumming louder than Luka's fingers, so loudly the guards in the other room could probably hear it. The Lieutenant Governor was indeed a man of detail-very little escaped him.

"s...o...b..rd. There are public relay stations here in Tairmor."

"I see. And why did you think a forger you had met but once would come when you called?"

I wiped perspiration from my brow, wondering if the heat in the room had been increased. My reaction did not, of course, pa.s.s Luka's notice.

"Why don't you retake your seat, Princess? Despite the front you put up, I can't imagine you feel particularly well."

I complied, and he moved to the door to direct one of the guards to bring a gla.s.s of water, giving me a little time to think. The problem with half-truths was that they sometimes created a web from which you couldn't escape.

The guard arrived with the water, and Luka reclaimed his chair. He set the gla.s.s in front of me, and I took several swallows, hoping he would move on in his questioning. Such was not to be.

"Now then, the forger. Why did you think he would a.s.sist you?"

"This is what I know about Spex. He likes money, and he engages in illegal activities. That's exactly the type of person I needed."

Luka fell silent, no doubt determining how to phrase his next question. Wanting to derail him, I dared an inquiry of my own.

"There was a boy, eight or nine years old, at Sandrovich's house. Do you know what became of him?"

Despite my attempt at nonchalance, I was sure the Lieutenant Governor could see the worry churning inside me.

"I don't know anything about a boy." He paused, his keen blue eyes boring into me. "But I could find out."

His implication was clear: he would cooperate with me if I would cooperate with him. Content for the moment to continue the game, I shrugged.

"He's a street kid who developed a rather annoying attachment to me. At times, like he did tonight, he follows me around. But I'd appreciate any information you can provide. I'd hate to think he came to harm."

"I understand. I hope you do, too."

I nodded, unsure what to think. The last I had seen, Frat was crumpled on the floor. What if he'd regained consciousness and run from the room? What if he, and not Spex, had picked up the Anlace? Frat, I was sure, would return it to me. I doubted Spex would do the same.

Apparently realizing we'd come to an impa.s.se, Luka became more amiable. He smiled, shifting his manner and objective with remarkable facility.

"You have endured the cruelties of this city in ways you never should have experienced. I must, therefore, insist you do me the courtesy of coming to stay at the Governor's mansion while you recuperate. You'll have the luxury of rest, and the best food and care we can provide until you are well again. There's only one thing I must ask at this point-that you surrender any weapons in your possession to me. They will be put in the Governor's safe and returned to you when you feel ready to leave."

I handed my long knife over to him, my throat tightening, blocking the other question I wanted to ask. I looked to the floor, struggling for composure, then forced out the words.

"Do you expect my kin?"

Luka was blessedly brief. "Yes."

He shoved the table out of the way and extended his hand to me. My own uninjured one shook when I clasped it and came to my feet. I met his eyes, and an impulse to collapse against him came out of nowhere.

"Are you steady enough to walk, Princess?" he gently asked. "Or shall I carry you?"

Tears sprang to my eyes. His gesture of caring left me reeling and devastatingly aware of how lonely I'd become. I craved being held and comforted. But this was not the time or place, nor was he the person on whom I should lean. Why Luka inspired these feelings in me was a mystery. Perhaps I trusted him more than I was willing to admit. Or perhaps I was well and truly exhausted.