“Thanks.” I massaged the back of my neck. “Ajournal of someone famous?”
“No, that was what was so strange. A man was killed over the journal of a civil servant.Owww.A public works inspector.”
“Let me… is that light?”Somethingglowed ahead of us. “My vision’s kind of fuzzy.”
“It is.” She blew out a long sigh. “I believe we can coast from here.”
“Journal.” I twisted my body, adjusting my grasp on the rigging. “It was in your tool bag that one time when you thought I—”
“Precisely.” She winced. The glow faltered again.
I put a hand on her upper arm. “We can coast.”
“I didn’t suspect you, not really, but after weeks of subtle games, my room and possessions searched by the servants, innuendo, veiled threats, I simply snapped. My studies with you were an oasis of joy in a stark and grating—oww.”She flicked her left leg at the knee.
“You OK?”
“My limbs are going numb.”
“We’re almost there.”
“Yes.” She set her jaw. “So as I read it, I began to—”
We clipped the last of the trees, but the top bough only slapped my shin then slid past.
“You don’t have to continue.” I wanted to rejoice at the approaching town, but barely had the energy to hold onto the rigging. “When we’re out of danger, if you stillfeel—”
“Theo. I am telling you because… because I need to trust someone, not because we were about to die.”
I looped an arm through the tattered rigging to take her hand. “I’m honored to be that someone.”
“You werealwaysthat someone. I simply could not…” Her eyes glistened in the moonlight. “The journal was dry and factual, but it painted certain people in a very different light from how they are historically viewed. And certain incidents werenotthe product of random—we’re coming in.”
Torches lit the perimeter of a field outside town where a half dozen people gathered. We were a hundred meters out, maybe two, twenty high, and still moving at what would be a solid run.
I squeezed her hand. “Sephi, whatever may come, I’m with you all the way.”
“And Mister Thistlewood, I believe I…” Her gaze was softer than I’d ever seen.
Cheers and shouts began to replace the whistle of wind and low murmurs of the forest.
Forty meters out, ten up.
I pulled the vent flap to bleed off a little altitude. “You believe?”
Her former composed smile returned. She continued in a silky, even tone. “I believe that you, Mister Thistlewood, are about to find out just how far the Barony of Arazniros will go for friends and allies.”
That’s my girl.
Chapter Fifteen
I scraped my thigh as we clipped a stone terrace wall. The balloon bounced, yanking us three meters back into the air, before I held the vent flap in full open position, keeping it on the ground.
“You OK?”
“I am undamaged,” said Sephimara.
Several people dove at the rigging and balloon envelope, dragging it to a stop.
