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where I land.
But if he was being followed that might not occur to someone who didn't himself fly.
Well, what's done is done. No use closing the coop door after the pigeons have flown
.
It wasn't at all difficult to follow Nob's directions from the air, and in a remarkably
short period of time, he landed in a square next to a fountain about three blocks away
from the building that housed Freehold. It took him longer to walk those three blocks
than it had to fly the rest. Although foot traffic tended to part before him, the streets
were still crowded, and there weren't too many places for other pedestrians to move in
order to get out of his way.
He suspected that he was indeed being followed when he was two blocks from the
place, and only then did it occur to him that it probably didn't matter if he flew or walked.
This, as Harperus had pointed out, was a logical destination for him. All anyone had to do
was to leave a watcher near the place, and sooner or later he was bound to show up.
If I'd had any sense, I would have sent a message to Tyladen that I was coming and
would land on the roof, he told himself angrily. But no, I have no more sense than an
unfledged eyas. And this is all for no reason! I don't have anything at all to report!
Other than to make T'fyrr the very visible symbol of his new policy of tolerance for
nonhumans, the King literally had not done anything since T'fyrr's arrival. At least, he
hadn't done anything that T'fyrr had witnessed. He left everything in the hands of his
underlings, just as he had that very first day, and those underlings were making very
certain that T'fyrr was given nothing whatsoever to do when the King wasn't requesting
private performances. Other Court musicians regularly played for the humans gathered
at various places during the day; not T'fyrr. Someone was being very careful to see that
T'fyrr stayed out of sight. T'fyrr, on the other hand, was making very sure that he stayed
visible, attending every open Court session that he could but he really hadn't learned
anything new.
Well, it was too late to do anything about followers now; he walked up to the front door
of Freehold as if he hadn't a care in the world and presented himself to the doorkeeper
with casual aplomb. He did enjoy the way the man's eyes widened at the sight of his wings
and talons, but when he asked to see Tyladen, the man did not ask why or claim that the
Deliambren was busy. Instead, he directed T'fyrr to go inside and said that he would tell
Tyladen to come meet him.
T'fyrr followed the human's directions, but once inside the door, his senses were
assaulted in a fashion that left him momentarily dazed by the barrage of light and sound.
People not only humans, but other peoples were everywhere. Music pounded at his
ears from the center of the room and echoed down off the high ceiling. A space in the
middle of the room was full of creatures dancing to a wild reel; above the gyrating bodies
was the group responsible for the high-volume, fast-paced music itself. They were all
humans, but they played as if they were the demons that the Church claimed T'fyrr had
represented.
A moment or two later, to his relief and gratitude, the music ended; the bronze-maned
human singer threw back his hair, acknowledged the applause of the dancers, and
indicated that he and the group were about to take a rest. T'fyrr sighed in gratitude; it
would have been impossible to cross the rapidly emptying floor with it full of dancers, and
he wasn't certain he would have been able to maintain his equilibrium literally! with
that much music pounding into his ears.
As the dance floor cleared, T'fyrr started across it, sweeping his glance across the
many odd alcoves and glass-fronted rooms surrounding the open space. Harperus and
Nob had both described Freehold to the best of their abilities, but both descriptions had
come up rather short of reality. If he had not been so concerned about those who had
followed him, he would have been happy to explore the place
And then, as he glanced into a rainbow-laced room with a single performer upon the
stage, his heart and footsteps faltered for an instant.
No.
But, yes. It was Nightingale. Not the Nightingale he remembered from that single
memorable afternoon, but a more elegant and exotic version of the same woman. She
wore a night-black gown that flowed about her body like a second skin of feathers, and
her hair had been left to flow down her back in a single fall of darkest sable. But it was
her it was her.
And if he acknowledged her, whoever was following him and watching him would want
to know why he had done so would want to know how she had met him, and where, and
what she was to him.
If those followers were from any of his enemies at Court, she would not be safe, not
even here. Her only safety lay in his pretending that she was as much a stranger to him as
anyone else here.
Yes, they would see him meeting with the Deliambren, Tyladen but the Deliambren
could take care of himself. Beautiful, fragile Nightingale could not.
So he allowed his eyes to brush across hers with feigned indifference and pretended
not to see the shock of recognition in her face. Instead, he waited until he caught a glimpse
of a Deliambren hurrying toward him from a nearby corridor who could only be
Tyladen, the owner of this place. He gave all of his attention to his host, and as Tyladen
hurried him into a back room, he did not even spare a second glance for the musician in
the room of rainbows however much his heart yearned for a welcoming smile from her.
"I'm glad you came," the Deliambren said as he closed a reassuringly solid door behind [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]