“What happened?” asked a student.
“Did the balloon malfunction?” asked another.
“Yeah, you could say that.” I gripped a fistful of manicured grass.
I flopped onto my back, the ground feeling delightfully enticing.
“A malfunction?” The instructor displayed something near to emotion. “I will certainly have a word with whoever certified the maintenance on your balloon.”
Sephimara stood, a leg on either side of me, and extended a hand. “Malfunction? I don’t know if that’squite the right word for it. To my mind, everything went off like clockwork.”
I smiled at her in the light of scattered lanterns. The aches, cuts, and bruises faded from my mind as I took her hand. We’d done it.
She pulled me easily to my feet, gaze locked a moment with mine before turning to the instructor. “Do you know the whereabouts of Aldyr? We havequestionsfor him.”
“The inn,” she said. “Most of the students are there. It was too late to send out a search party, so we…”
“Thank you.” I clenched and relaxed my fists, trying to loosen the stiffness from holding on to the rigging. “If we hadn’t seen all the lanterns and torches, we might have flown right past.”
“Mister Thistlewood, please accompany me to the inn. There will be some discussions. Rather pointed discussions, I believe.”
We strode briskly up stone staircases, past terraces. The town was built into mountainous coastal terrain, yet somehow lush with foliage.
“This is really a quaint little town. I’m a bit upset that Aldyr’s sabotage ruined my chance to explore it with you.”
“As am I.” She stopped at a tiny plaza with a fountain where glowing crystals illuminated the interior of a miniature grotto scene. “Left fork, the instructor said. So, I’d been given a journal that I didn’t want and didn’t know what to do with.”
“And then the individual who gave it to you rudely got themselves murdered,” I added. “It’s the sort of thing that can really ruin one’s day.”
“Precisely.”
The cobblestone street narrowed, steepened, and finally turned to a stairway.
“And though the count and his son were pleasant at first—” She paused at the top step and bit her lower lip. “Actually, they were never especially pleasant. At any rate, they were the only ones I knew in the city… aside from you of course.”
“Of course.” I offered her my hand, palm up.
She blinked, smiled, and took it firmly in hers. “But there were coincidences. Far too many coincidences. I hid the journal, but my room was searched time and again. So I finally resorted to having it with me at all times. Then came the subtle threats, then…” She stopped in front of the darkened window of Faexalim’s Puzzles, Toys, and Diversions, spinning me to face her, a hand on my shoulder. “Mister Thistlewood. You have been patient, true beyond measure, and an exemplary friend.”
I tipped my head. “You left out valiant.”
“I was getting to that part.” Her features were indistinct in the moonlight, though her eyes sparkled.
“Thank you.” I rested a hand on her… oh she has such a nice curve to those hips.
She leaned closer, until our foreheads touched.
“And you, Sephi, are the most charming andfascinating person I’ve ever met.”
Her eyelids fell shut as she uttered a satisfied, low hum. “Perhaps we should interrogate Aldyr before news of our non-demise reaches him.”
We located the inn, a three-story structure with rooms accessible via wide external walkways decorated with flowering potted plants.
She raised a hand as we approached their room.
Elevated voices snapped at each other behind the door.
“The mansaidhe was an agent of the count. Said that if it looked like an accident—”
