HarboursideIndex | Time Under Chaos | Game Logs | Harbourside
The black carriage came thundering down cobbled streets as if pursued by the devil himself. It came to a sudden stop by the dockside, horses stamping, pawing and frothing at the mouth as they slewed to a halt. The smell of ash and doused flame was still heavy in the air, and it hardly helped the driver calm the stallions down. Vikund stepped from the carriage unfazed and smelt the air. He looked up and down the harbourside and out across the water, to where the great paddleship was anchored while whisps of smoke from the dying embers of the café that once had royal patronage danced about him. The rhythm that was tapped out on the heel of his boot by the swing of his silver-topped cane betrayed a measure of irritation, but his face did not show it. The carriage pulled away, and Vikund walked along the dock to where he knew there would be a boat anchored with a friendly captain. It was hardly a regal way to travel, but it was recently vanished and served his purpose. It only took a few minutes for the yacht to cross the short expanse of water, and thankfully there were few of the massive tea clippers in this part of the harbour to make navigation a greater challenge. The captain pulled up alongside the Queen with practiced ease and signalled for his mate to drop anchor while Vikund stepped forward to hail the other vessel. "Ahoy there!" He cried. "Permission to come aboard, please." Over the sound of ripping wood and hammering from the third deck, the response was not as fast as it probably would have been otherwise. But eventually the ship's Captain came striding down the lower deck towards him wearing a faint frown. "Mr. Anansi," nodded Angelo, his voice rich and melodic with the accent he had stubbornly held onto over the years. "A bit early, are you not?" "Early for some matters, late for others," Vikund replied. "Be so good as to let me aboard and I will explain." Angelo shrugged and opened a newly installed gate in the railing and lowered the ladder. "Just watch where you walk, and watch your head until we get inside." Vikund nodded. "I'll make my own way back," he told the Captain and made his way up the ladder, following Angelo. He paused on the deck to take a look around, taking in the sea air. There on the lowest deck of the Ramblin' Queen, it was only he and Angelo. Two decks overhead, there was the sound of much carpentry and the good natured banter between craftsmen. Angelo regarded him after closing the gate. "What brings you here, Mr. Anansi?" he inquired patiently and with mild suspicion. "The boss is out, and most everyone is sleeping." "I would like to rouse Ornella from her slumber," Vikund replied. "It is regrettable, but it cannot wait. I need to interview her as a matter of utmost urgency. "Hm," he responded then turned on his heel and headed inside the ship, secure in the knowledge that Vikund would follow. "Where would you like to conduct this ... interview?" "Wherever's convenient," Vikund replied. "Perferably somewhere the workmen aren't making too much noise," he added with a ghost of a smile. "That should not be a problem," Angelo was saying as they passed under the grand staircase and into the hallway that opened into the main lounge. "Many areas are soundproofed." "If you would wait in here," he said with a gesture to the main lounge area where stood a surprised looking Petra. "I will go fetch her from the staff quarters." Angelo's own gaze followed the sweep of his hand and he smiled. "Ah. My apologies, Mr. Anansi. It seems the Boss is here." Petra just crossed her arms over her chest and waited expectantly for an explanation. Vikund smiled. "Ah, Bella, you were teasing me. I thought you had abandoned me and here you are in the flesh. Do you have time to talk now, or shall I wait?" Petra smiled slowly. "Cara mio, you think so little of me? Wounded, I am. I would never abandon you." She gestured with the hand not holding a thick leather folder toward the smaller bar near the gallery. "Join me and let us get things cleared between us." "Grazie," Vikund replied. "You must excuse my reticence over trump; I always wonder who's listening. At least here I know who's listening," he smiled. "I understand," she replied agreeably. "I was not expecting to hear from anyone so soon. It was why I decided to run that errand this morning." Petra slipped in behind the bar and located something light. "Now," she said as she poured them both glasses of something peach colored and bubbly. "What was Johanna carrying that has you concerned?" "Your trump, and a trump sketch of Ornella," Vikund replied. "Mandor will probably already know that Johann carried them from Damien, and it is not something that can be dismissed lightly. True trumps are not distributed to casual acquaintances. Perhaps you can tell me how he came by it, as if you were trying to convince Mandor rather than me." Petra sipped her drink and leaned back against the counter behind her. "Let me see... ," she began thoughtfully. "It was before he left Amber. We had drinks and talked of family, our fathers to be exact. As have many before him he wished to verify my definition of neutral. He certainly seemed a sane man, and I didn't mind speaking with him further. She looked at Vikund. "You, of all people, should know that I do tend to hand out Trump cards freely. Johann has a brilliant mind, I enjoyed that talk, I wouldn't have minded more like it. But the only time I heard from him before he announced himself today was when he called to tell me he was leaving Amber. She pushed the folder she had been carrying to him. "This is everything Vincenzo has collected on Johann and his activites since Vincenzo started working for me. I don't know that there is anything in there that you don't already know, but there it is. I was on my way to the office to look at Damien's file when you appeared." "Thank you," Vikund replied, accepting the file. "Johann may have had a brilliant mind, but he was also more than a little insane. You knew his reputation. Why take the risk? He paused and studied his wine glass. "You appreciate I will have to speak to Ornella." Petra sighed and set her glass aside. She gazed longingly at the hard stuff before moving from behind the bar. "Si. I am rather alarmed that he still had a sketch of her. I do know he called her once while she and Aura were on vacation in Atlantis. After he left Amber. She told me about it when I picked them up." "She must have had quite an effect on him," Vikund noted. Petra smiled thinly. "The women of Cornaro, cara mio, often have that effect, in case that has slipped your mind." She looked up and over his shoulder and her smile slipped into a warmer one as she caught sight of the less then alert blonde. "I am certain Mr. Anansi is terribly sorry to disturb your sleep, Ornella. But he assures me it is important." Ornella looked askance at Vikund as she made herself comfortable at one of the nearby small tables. "You should know by now what happened to Johann earlier on," Vikund said without preamble. "Suffice it to say he was captured. Your picture was found on his person and I would like to establish the nature of your relationship. He was clearly quite taken with you. What I would like to know is what you thought of him." Ornella's brow furrowed and she looked to Petra, who just smiled encouragingly and handed her a cup of tea. "I enjoyed our conversations," Ornella said tiredly. She smothered a yawn and ran her fingers back through her hair. "And his ... " she paused before continuing delicately: "Company. He called me once after he had been run out of town. That really gives us mere mortals a smashing headache, by the way." "Not very considerate of him," Vikund admitted. "Only the once? Did you discourage him from contacting you again?" "Nooo," she frowned slightly, as if struggling for the memory. "I mean, it was only the one time, but... I don't believe I said one way or the other if he could call again. I suspected that Petra wouldn't approve of the first time, for one thing. Vacation is vacation, and work is supposed to be separate from pleasure." Ornella shrugged and gave him a half smile. "I felt bad for him. It wasn't like he could saunter onto the ship and ask to see me. Although, I don't know how he knew I wasn't on the ship." She frowned again. So did Petra. "A man like Johann, for all his faults, has allies and friends," Vikund replied. "Would you like to see him again?" In the middle of picking up her tea, Ornella suddenly went pale and a look filled with pain bloomed on her face. A suddenly alert and obviously alarmed Petra started towards her, Ornella whimpered, the cup slipping from her fingers to crash on the hardwood floor, and clutched her head. Vikund frowned and took a half-step forward, before making a decision and moving more decisively to take her arm at the elbow in case she should collapse. Petra was swiftly at her other side and kneeling beside her to look up at the other woman's pained face. "Ornella?" she whispered, recognizing the building of a serious migraine when she saw one. "What is it?" Ornella covered her eyes to block the light. "I... don't know," was her strained reply. "It just hurt suddenly, like a call, but not... and I think... I ... " She inhaled sharply and gritted her teeth. "It was Johann..." Vikund held Ornella's arm and seemed reluctant to let it go. "You should sit," he suggested. "He may try again." Ornella started to shake her head and then stopped with a wince. "No. No call... memories... something you said..." Petra looked up at Vikund with a worried frown. "I don't understand what's going on. Get her over to the chaise so she can lie down, please. I'll get her something for the pain." Petra rubbed the blonde's shoulder and took off for her office at a run. Vikund slipped his hand around Ornella's waist and guided her to the chaise, supporting her weight. "Just try to relax. Take deep breaths." Ornella was thankful for the help. "It seems to be ... leveling off." When they got to their destination, she sat down heavily and lay back with an arm over her eyes. "It is probably just as well you have him locked up," she murmured softly. "Or I would be tempted to do him harm myself for this." She fell silent for a moment before adding: "I feel like an idiot." "What makes you say that?" Vikund asked gently. "What I thought I remembered of that afternoon was not what happened," the blonde replied slowly. "If what I remember of it now is the truth." "Please tell me," Vikund bid. "It might help." Ornella lifted her arm and gifted him with a baleful look. "Please, Mr. Anansi. You would want to know whether it helped or not." Her attention shifted as Petra appeared beside her with two pills and a glass of water, which she sat up enough to gratefully accept. "Grazi," said the blonde as she handed the empty glass back. Petra crouched beside the chaise and Ornella returned to her supine position. "Johann trumped me while we were in Atlantis. He asked to come through." She peered over at her boss. "I was curious and did not see the harm." Petra nodded but didn't speak and kept her face impassive. She and Ornella had already discussed that issue. "After I attended to my splitting headache, he started talking. I thought at first this was just another 'What If' when he started with politics and dire predictions. But then he mentioned his plan, and how it would involve one of us ... he said he was going to have Mandor visit the Queen..." she frowned and looked at Vikund. "But this is not what happened. He was going to use one of us - me- as a way onboard and then use me as a hostage to get to Mandor through the hidden passages. I told him he was insane." She looked back at Petra in a mild panic. "By the entire pantheon, I thought I would be able to tell you." Petra patted her shoulder reassuringly. "I know." "Something happened to change his plans, it seems." Vikund said. "Interesting that he believed he could influence Mandor's movements. "After you told him he was insane...what did he do then?" He asked. "Tried to convince me otherwise," Ornella replied, her voice stronger as the painkillers started to work through her system. "I did tell him that I believed should Mandor actually show up here, he would not bother with any of the rest of us, and would seek out Petra, and that Vincenzo would not hesitate to go through me to take out a perceived threat to her. I did not bother to tell him that the access and the hidden passage ways to Petra's rooms are known to only herself and Vincenzo, who in some ways, is just as paranoid as Johann himself. He had already mentioned taking the memories out of my conscious mind and I was hoping by not telling him everything, it would leave enough room for suspicious behavior on my part later that would alert security." Petra closed her eyes and sighed as Ornella continued. "He also said he would have people throughout the city that would act on his signal. That 'the garrison would be too busy bleeding'. He thinks Mandor will have Merlin married off and, how did he put it...he will stud Merlin, and there will no more need for us or Merlin's circle of companions, that we will all fall, leaving Mandor acting as Regent to Merlin's orphaned Heir. He really, really hates Mandor and feels that if he is gone, that it would be easy for those in Arden to retake the city. His timeframe was within the decade." Ornella uncovered her eyes and sat up a little, looking better then she had, though still a touch paler then normal. "I did not tell him that Aura was in the house, nor did I ever actually say yes to his proposition. But he set up the wall in my mind and set of the code phrase anyway. I could hardly stop him. Mr. Anansi accidentally triggered it." She chewed her lip fretfully as she looked back at Petra. "He said that the reason he believed you longed for the Amber of old was because of 'thousands of pieces of priceless artwork she felt needed to be smuggled out of the city'. That optimism and Mr. Anansi made him believe that you were behind that." Petra's frown went to a look of complete bewilderment. "Cosa? Come sono relativo?" Ornella shrugged. "Una volta che fossi stato disposto ad indovinare. Ora, non posso dire." Vikund cocked his head slightly, the way he always did when the native speakers began gabbling too fast for him. "Wait; does this mean there may be other parts of this foolhardy plan that may still be in motion?" Ornella frowned and Petra looked blankly at Vikund. "You mean his people in the city?" asked Petra. Vikund nodded curtly. Ornella looked at the both of them helplessly. "I do not know. Unless he completely changed everything, it is possible." Vikund let out a sigh. "I will have to report this at once. I can't take chances when the king may be incapacitated. When you have recovered, Ornella, there may be other things I need to ask you, if I may. He looked across at Petra and grimaced. "There were other matters, but they can wait." "Can they?" Petra asked archly. Ornella looked between the two of them nervously. "I'll be here." "If there is something pressing you need to discuss, I am at your disposal," Vikund replied, meeting Petra's gaze. Something behind Petra's eyes seemed to slam shut and they shaded to a frosty shade of icy green. She stood from her place beside the chaise and held a hand out to Ornella. "Far be it from me to come between you and your job," Petra responded, and he could be fairly certain that meant more then just what it sounded like on the surface. "Please. Go make your report. No doubt there will be meetings that require you after that. But, as always, I will be here, awaiting your whim. We would like to be told how Merlin is, if you can find the opportunity." Ornella stood and moved slightly behind her and out of the line of fire. She had known Petra most of her life. She was very familiar with her moods. "Oh," Petra added, almost as an afterthought. "And if you can find the time to do me a favor, please let Mandor know privately that what he asked of me has been done. Exactly as he asked for it to be done." "That I shall," Vikund replied, unfazed by the sudden chill in the air. He pulled on a a black velvet glove and took what looked like a slim silver cigarette case from his waistcoat pocket. "I'm sorry that things have worked out as they have, but there are other people in Amber who may be prompted to do irrational things in the wake of Johann's madness. If I can prevent that happening, then we and others will suffer a lot less pain. Remember what I said that first night in Blackhall; I meant it, and that time may be at hand." He took out a card from the case, and began to concentrate on it. "You said a lot of things that night in Blackhall." replied Petra. "How many of them did you mean then and are still true now?" She didn't wait for a response because she didn't expect one. She turned her attention to Ornella, who was starting to succumb to the painkillers more fully and left Vikund to his exit as she returned the other woman to her room. But respond he did, as he vanished in rainbow colours. "Alles." Petra stoppped and turned to watch the collapse of the rainbow with a slightly pained look. "Venus, Mars, e Fortuna proteggerlo," she whispered and then turned to meet Ornella's worried look with a ghost of smile. "You'll be taking the night off, by the way," she said as they made their way to Ornella's rooms. "And you'll have company for it. I don't want you left alone." "I am not going to do anything foolish," Ornella replied tiredly. "It is not you I am concerned about," Petra said darkly. Ornella may have wanted to discuss it further, but she was asleep before Petra closed the other woman's bedroom door. Petra reluctantly went and roused Ramon and sent him keep an eye on the sleeping Ornella. Goddess, but she was worn down, and it wasn't even noon. Deciding to not risk Vincenzo's ire by digging through his files without him, Petra ignored the clock and took a bottle of Ramon's favored tequila and sat herself at the piano where she could keep an eye on the doors. She had people who were still not back yet and wanted to know the moment they returned.
First back was Alex, driving the carriage with something of a swagger. As Petra sit idly picking out the tune of the notations spread out in front of her. Tensed as she was for the return of her missing staff, Petra picked out the sound of Alex’s voice responding to Angelo’s hail and she counted to ten before turning to watch him enter the lounge. Petra could see that he had News. Petra eyed him as he came sauntering through the doorway of the lower deck and towards her position at the piano. Her left hand continued picking out a counterpoint as she sipped her drink. With a tilt of her head, she indicated the nearby chairs. Her thoughts had been elsewhere, with someone else, and so she dragged them back from the man in some vague location in the castle on the mountain, and to the man in front of her. She waited while he veered by the bar to grab a glass of scotch. Then he kicked out the indicated chair and dropped down into it. Petra set her glass aside and swiveled on the bench to face him, one hand now playing absently with the Singer's Tear around her neck. A nervous gesture that had crept up over the past few months. "Well?" "Goran's stayed," said Alex. "He helped the Captain take the King to his rooms. And the Princess Flora was there. She took things seriously, I think." Petra snorted. "Flora...overreacting. There's a surprise." He looked at Petra. "Did the King drink too much last night?" She shook her head while refilling her glass. "No. According to the twins, and his tab, the three of them had less to drink then you and Gino on poker night, and Merlin can usually out drink the both of you." "So, whatever happened, it had nothing to do with how much he drank." She paused and studied the clear contents of her glass. "But just to be on the safe side, collect those bottles from his suite and seal them in one of those glass cases in my closet. The next time I go to Schwansee, I'll drop them off at the lab." "Anything else? Because I have an absolutely thrilling report for Security, and right now, you're it." Alex gulped. "Goran can tell you more!" he said hastily. Then he rose to his feet. "I'll get those glasses, shall I? Right away?" It was clear he was only too anxious to escape whatever was coming down ... At that moment, there was word of a sighting - Goran had been spotted, climbing into the skiff to row across to the Queen. Petra waved Alex away with an irritated, yet resigned gesture. "Fine. Go. I am certain you will hear of it from Vincenzo anyway." She grimaced after saying that. Petra checked her watch and slammed back the contents of her glass. "After you have secured the glassware, grab something to eat to make up for missing breakfast, and then wake Vincenzo. Then you get yourself to sleep. I need you all on your toes tonight. Hopefully, we will not be overrun with government officials again tonight, because, great Maker, I am already over my tolerance limit for the week."
A short time after Alex left, Goran arrived in the lounge. He must have stopped at his room hastily because the blood-stained shirt of his uniform had been replaced with a clean one. His trousers were still somewhat rumpled, though. He strode over to Petra at the piano and after looking her up and down with some concern; he placed the coin bag on the music stand before her. "From Prince Bleys. Are you all right?" Petra looked oddly at the bag of coins. She hefted it in her hand and opened it to look inside curiously. It seemed to finally register that Goran had asked her a question. "Hmm? Oh, I suppose. Certainly better then some of the cousins this morning. Of course, I'd be even better if I could take a vacation." ”Pull up a chair, Goran, and tell me how Merlin is, how your arm is, and why the hell is Bleys sending me money?" Dawn, meantime, keeps her head down and scuttles off to her cabin. She seems rather less than her normal cheery self. The fact that she hardly said a word to Goran on the trip over tells its own story. Usually there's no shutting her up. Petra made a note of Dawn's subdued demeanor as she crossed the lounge on her way to the staff area. She frowned worriedly and told herself to go check on her after she and Goran were done. She may be one of Vikund's people, but the girl still worked for her and she upheld her end of the employment agreement. Dawn's manner was not lost on Goran either. The concern he showed for Petra was transferred to his co-worker as he watched her walk silently toward her rooms. When she disappeared, he pulled over a chair and sat facing his employer. "In reverse order, His Highness said the coin is to pay his tab. He might not be around for a while and thought to take care of it while he had a messenger on hand. The arm's fine. It was just a graze and I took care of it. And Merlin..." Goran glanced around the lounge, making certain it was deserted before continuing. "I suspect Merlin was dropped by an overload of Pattern. I couldn't say that up there for obvious reasons, but I think Bleys made the same diagnosis. He should be fine once he has time to... equalize." Petra nodded slowly. "It was Larissa. She called up the Pattern to fight the fires. But Merlin is himself a Pattern initiate. I've never heard of such a bad reaction. Was it the Logrus within him reacting badly to Larissa's impressive display?" Goran shrugged. "Could've been. I don't know enough about Chaosian physiology to say." Her finger tapped the side of her glass absently. "I don't suppose you heard anything about what's to happen to our idiot cousin, did you? I don't see how there's anything to be done to help him. It was a foolish thing he did, and dear Mandor is not likely to let it go without a harsh response." "Nope. No one really touched that subject," Goran replied. "They were concentrating on Merlin. I got the impression he'll be twisting in the breeze if Cap'n Morgan has anything to say about it though." "So what about the rest of you? Everyone here make it through okay? I saw smoke." "We survived all that fine," Petra answered pensively. "But something else has come up during the morning's investigations." Goran's eyebrows arched inquiringly. She glanced towards the stairs and then scooted to the end of bench. "Payne had my trump and a trump sketch of Ornella on him. I'm not all that concerned about him having mine. I gave it to him years ago, and I am not going to bother with lying about it. Anyone that has been watching me for any amount of time knows that I could never support a bloody revolution." Goran nodded, listening. "Right after he left Amber years ago, Payne made a call to Ornella when she was in Atlantis with Aura. Ornella told us that he had called her, she had brought him to Atlantis, and they had a lovely afternoon doing the usual things after she got rid of the headache the trump all caused" "Only, that was just part of the truth." Petra leaned back and grabbed one of the leather-bound journals she often carried about and handed it to him. "The page is marked. I wrote it all down after Vikund left to report it to Mandor. Please read it. I'll need Security to keep an eye on her until I can get her out of here." Goran took the book and opened it to the indicated page, leaning his elbows on his knees as he read. His expressions ranged from surprise to puzzlement to concern as the tale progressed. At the end, he nodded and handed the closed book back to her. "Vincenzo was concerned about something like that. That he might make a move through here based on his relations with Ornella or one of the others. And he could very well have people in town. He was scouting a while back." Goran leaned back in his chair, but continued to speak softly. "You probably know, but in case you don't, Vincenzo sent me out to investigate. As a civilian. Someone had been advertising for dangerous work and Vin suspected Payne might be behind it. So I answered one of his ads. There was another guy that showed up too, one I suspect belonged to Vikund. I got through into Payne's lair, but Micky, the other guy, got caught up in one of the traps. Petra winced. "Johann would get upset when his boys got hurt," she muttered. "And then he turned around and did crap like that to others." "I piqued Payne's interest, I think. He figured out I was of the Blood, but I didn't confirm how. It appeared he was looking for allies. I made it pretty clear what I thought of revolutionaries and he made it pretty clear how he felt about that. We left it at an agreement to disagree. He lost interest pretty quick after that. I didn't learn too much about him other than his general ideals. Nothing specific. Except that he's been tinkering with mechanics and incendiaries." Goran shrugged. "Which we saw today." She sighed and rubbed the spot between her eyebrows with one finger. "I knew. I looked over Vincenzo's file on Payne this morning. I edited out anything tying you directly to the Family and gave Vikund the file while he was here this morning. Considering those two little surprise discoveries this morning, I thought it would be best to just cooperate and volunteer what information we had." Petra tossed her book onto the top of the piano. "I cannot believe what an idiot, and thoughtless idiot at that, he turned out to be. Because only an idiot would try to pull off an assassination attempt in broad daylight, surrounded by people sworn to protect those around the target, and because of the location, our security was responsible for Mandor as well. He *had* to know that. Then he was stupid enough to carry around more then an escape Trump. Assuming I even wanted to help him, I can't risk it now." She growled and threw up her hands. "You know, his father isn't the king of idiots, so I am not understanding how Johann turned out to be their prince." Goran leaned forward again and sighed in frustration. There was something here that he was simply not getting, and the feeling irked him immensely. "I'm not even sure what he was trying to accomplish," he said. "What he was shooting wasn't even a real gun. It was sorcerous somehow. That bullet wound in my arm? It went away. And I don't mean it healed. It *went away.* Like it was never there. I asked Prince Bleys about it, and he suspected sorcery. So that makes me wonder. Was it really an assassination attempt? Or some kind of show? Or diversion? The whole thing just doesn't add up." Petra slowly looked back at Goran in disbelief and then leaned forward with her elbow on her knees. She fell silent as she contemplated this turn of events. The heel of her shoe tapped lightly against the polished wood of the floor. "I can see two possibilities," she said suddenly. "Either you are correct and it was a distraction, or one of the sorcerers out there did something to the bullets the moment he started firing. Johann, as far as I know, is not a sorcerer so he would have required another accomplice. But this would still make him a wretched shot, as you were the only one hit, and you were off to the side, and I just don't buy that. But if Mandor and Damien set Johann up, as it appears, then one of them would have done it. I don't know that Damien is a sorcerer, but he has to be good for something besides being an ornamental snake. But you noticed that Mandor, an accomplished sorcerer, never moved until it was over? He just stared at Johann the whole time. Which makes me think he was not in the least bit concerned for his safety, because he was never really endangered. The bullets were taken care of before they ever left the pistol." "Huh. That's a good theory. They knew it was coming and prepared for it. Even if he didn't cast the spells, Damien would've been able to tell Mandor about Payne's weapons of choice. With a flash of Mandor's will, they'd be neutralized," Goran agreed, thinking out loud. Petra nodded. "Exactly." She ran her fingers back through her hair and shook it out in agitation. "But I don't see any way that this will help Johann. They have removed a thorn in their sides, and they aren't about to let it go. Did Bleys have any ideas?" Goran shook his head. "Not that he told me. Though he might be going at things from another angle. He said he had things to research and would be leaving Amber for a while. Hence the payment," he said, nodding toward the bag on the piano. "What about Ornella?" he asked. "We know Payne had a trump of her. Does she have a trump of him? And could there still be some latent subconscious suggestion planted in her brain that would make her use it?" Petra smiled thinly. "This is one of the few times I have been glad "the mere mortals" as Ornella called regular folks, can't use Trumps. You or I could call one of them, but it gives them splitting migraine. They are unable to return the favor." "Ornella does not have one of his Trumps," Petra continued. "But I do. I am just not stupid enough to carry it around. Someone has already asked me if I had one in my possession. I doubt it would do them any good though. Whatever hole they have thrown him in is likely warded against them. Assuming they didn't slit his throat the moment they had him away from other eyes." She pursed her lips thoughtfully. "I should probably go fetch it. At least we would know if he was still alive. Maybe." "Worth a try, I guess," Goran replied with a dubious shrug. "But what would you do once you find that out?" Petra shrugged in response. "Don't know. The knowledge may ease a few people's minds. I know there a small number of people who seem determined to try and rescue him. Which is sure to be a huge non-surprise to Mandor." "He's probably expecting it. It'd be just like him to use Johann as bait to catch the whole damn movement," Goran observed sourly. Petra just sighed and refilled her glass. "It is also something I am not about to get directly involved in," stated Petra as she wrapped the thin gold chain of her necklace around her finger. "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, and my first priority is continued safety the many on this ship." She paused, seemingly reminded of something by her own words. "Can you do something for me? Can you see if you can find the owner of that dive everyone was going to for breakfast? If he didn't get caught in that fire, I have a proposition for him. And check out the other businesses that were burned out. I'm feeling very civic minded this morning. It won't cost all that much to help them rebuild." "Especially not if we can procure supplies and materials elsewhere," Goran suggested as he rose from his seat. "I can do some traveling if need be. I'll tend to this and find out what they need first. Goran nodded. "Let me know," Petra said as she too stood. "We should probably get most of it locally, to keep the Guilds from giving me the Evil Eye again. They apparently were not especially happy with me when I furnished this place without their input." "Will Ornella be all right 'til I get back?" Asked Goran. Petra nodded. "Ramon and Sorcha are with her. But as soon as it is feasible, I think I am going to send her to Cornaro. At least for a little while. She can keep my mother company, if nothing else." "All right. Let me know if she needs a lift. I know the way," Goran offered on his way to the door. She glanced towards the stairs. "And now, I am going to see if I can get anything out of Dawn." He nodded again, his concern about his colleague showing in his eyes as he closed the door behind him.
Dawn was in her rooms as usual, brushing out her long dark hair while standing before her dressing table mirror. There had been some subtle changes since Petra last looked in; the collection of fluffy animals had gone, along with most of the half-used experimental cosmetics she liked to buy from traveling merchants. The dressing table itself was remarkably tidy, but for a slightly crumpled white envelope. She turned and dropped a curtsey before giving Petra a broad smile that lit up her face, reminding Petra of her sparky enthusiasm when she first arrived. "Hello Miss Rossi, been quite a day already ha'n't it?" "It has," Petra smiled and motioned Dawn to have a seat. "And I see I am going to have to keep telling you to call me Petra. Ms Rossi is my mother." Dawn's smile flickered. She had betrayed her nerves as soon as opening her mouth. Her heart sank and she reached for the letter before sitting down. "Sorry, Petra. Feel as if I should be a bit more formal today." Petra sat herself down and studied her first Amber born and bred employee with concern. "But I am not here for me. Are you all right? You seemed not like yourself when you returned." Dawn thrust forward the letter without looking up. "I'm sorry, but I ... it's time I moved on. I'll help whoever you choose as my replacement settle in, if you like. I'm sure Master Vikund will have no shortage of qualified candidates." Petra took the letter, frowning. She glanced down at it but didn't read it, instead focusing her attention on the girl across from her. "Surely you are aware that you cannot just be replaced as easy as all that. Your education alone took years, as you'll remember, as did gaining the level of trust you with several members of the staff." She took out the letter and opened it. "Frankly, I am not at all certain I would hire another of Master Vikund's people. You, as it happily worked out, were worth the investment and the time. I cannot be assured we would have that kind of luck again." Only then did she hold the paper up to read. "I don't think you need worry about the standard of Master Vikund's staff," she said quietly. "I'm just not sure I can fulfill all my duties any more. Lord Johann will survive, I'm sure. The poison and the wound weren't enough to kill him. But Damien... I don't know what he will do or what to make of him. Frankly, I never want to meet his kind again." Petra very calmly folded the letter and returned it to the envelope. Only someone who had known her for a lifetime would recognize how very angry she was over this. "Damien is suddenly much more sinister then the mostly harmless fop he pretended to be," Petra agreed. "I am certain that Vincenzo, even in his sleep, is trying to come up with a way to bar him from returning to the Queen. You spent enough time in Cornaro to understand how most of the staff views his actions this morning." "You'll forgive me for not being willing to take this at face value, Dawn," she said frankly. "Vikund wanted you here, and I can't imagine you would be leaving without his say so. While you may have written this letter, it is not in your voice. If you are truly wanting to leave because you are afraid, then I will only remind you that we do everything we can to protect those who live and work under these boards, and if things turn ugly in Amber, you have a better chance of getting away from it with us then you would out on your own." "But if you insist on leaving, then I will expect you to be ready to disembark when we put back into port to pick up tonight's guests. There is no point in staying if you no longer have a reason to be here, and there is no possible way to train a replacement in a reasonable amount of time." Petra stood, tapping the letter against her other hand. "Now, I am going to my office to do things that are bad for me. I will give you an hour to think about this more. If I don't see you by then, I will let Security know you are leaving and someone will escort you to your destination." "Thank you," Dawn replied looking pensive, like someone lost in a labyrinth. And then Petra turned and walked out before the last frayed strand of her temper snapped in front of Dawn. She managed to make it back to the main lounge, where she picked up an obscenely expensive vase and threw across the room to shatter against a door. Then she blew out a breath and stalked off to find Vincenzo. Who was going to subject her to another round of 'I told you so'. But as she did so, she felt a familiar sensation - the nagging tug of a trump. Petra stopped and dropped her head with a heavy sigh. She turned and gave a nearby painted representation of the Cornaroan goddess of Fate a dour look and offered it her wrist. "An hour with no surprises. Is that too much to ask?" But Petra straightened and brought up a smile after a brief moment of concentration.
|
