Page 33 of Hawk & Sparrow

“Are you new to Basalton?” Mrs. Oelrich asked. “I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting before.”

Vesper paused. “I…”

“Miss Evans is from Maplegrove,” said Maximilian. “We met this summer, while I was there on business.”

Vesper exhaled in relief.

“Maplegrove,” Mrs. Oelrich repeated. “How interesting!” Her tone was mild, but there was a new touch of shrewdness in the woman’s eyes. Vesper had the distinct feeling she was being assessed.

“Mrs. Oelrich, I was just telling Miss Evans about the wonderful work you did to lead the Heritage Society’s restoration of the museum’s botanical garden and maze,” said Maximilian.

“You’re too kind!” said Mrs. Oelrich. She turned to Vesper. “Normally, I’d give you a private tour of the grounds myself, dear, but in light of recent events…” She shuddered. “Well, hopefully all that business is taken care of soon.” To Maximilian, she said: “I received your letter and will have my personal secretary send you a copy of the maze’s blueprint this week!”

The sorcerer bowed. “Much obliged.”

Mr. Oelrich cleared his throat. “Lara and I wanted to express our condolences, Maximilian. We were very sorry your wonderful event was marred by such a terrible tragedy with that Gladwell fellow. Sad business indeed.”

“Thank you,” said Maximilian courteously. “I appreciate it.”

Perfect, Vesper thought, an opening. “Did the two of you know Francis Gladwell?” she asked.

“We met the inventor once, and I introduced him at the exhibition because I’m a member of the Heritage Society,” said Mrs. Oelrich, “but we were never especially familiar with him.”

“Did you speak to him on the night he died?” Vesper pressed. “Did anything about him seem off?”

“Apologies,” said Maximilian quickly. “I think I’ve just spotted someone waving me down. Please, excuse us.” He gently but firmly escorted Vesper away.

“Well, that was subtle,” he muttered once they were out of the couple’s earshot. Vesper was surprised to hear annoyance in his voice. She turned on him, frowning.

“Are we here to gather information, or socialize?” she asked. “I was just trying to get to the point.”

Maximilian rolled his eyes. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but we’re at a polo match, not in an interrogation room.” He leaned in, looking serious. “If you want to get any useful information out of this crowd, you’re going to have to use a different approach, employ a bit more finesse. Can you manage that?”

Vesper crossed her arms. “Fine.”

“Thank you.”

She let a beat pass before the question on the tip of her tongue escaped her. “What was wrong with Mrs. Oelrich’s face? She looked … odd.”

Maximilian shifted his weight, visibly uncomfortable. “A bit too much cosmetic sorcery is my guess,” he said.

“Sorcery?” Vesper blinked. “Do you mean people use sorcery on themselves, to change their appearance?”

Maximilian nodded. “It’s not popular, but yes. Some people use it to enhance or change different physical features on their body. The work is complicated and has to be performed by sorcerers with specialized training. The incantations are fairly short-lived, which means they also have to be renewed somewhat frequently. As you saw, doing it too often can have a somewhat … jarring effect.”

Again, Vesper stared directly into Maximilian’s eyes. They’d been blue the night they’d met, then green, then gray. Today, they were hazel. Were those color changes the result of cosmetic sorcery too? Was that how Maximilian knew so much about it? She opened her mouth to ask him at the same time the sorcerer looked down at his watch to check the time.

He checked his watch. “Ah, I’m late.”

“Late?” Vesper repeated. “For what?”

Maximilian shrugged off his coat. To Vesper’s surprise, he wasn’t wearing his usual suit and tie underneath, but a crimson polo shirt and tan trousers.

“Are you quite serious, Mr. Kite? A polo match, now?”

“Some of the men playing today were chummy with Gladwell,” he said. “You’re going to do your information gathering, and I’m going to do mine. I’ll report back after.”

“But—”