Page 14 of The Familiar

So what had happened? Why were they now standing in a shaded bower of grape leaves, the sky barely visible, the vines creaking, water from the fountain splashing onto the fruit clogging its star-shaped basin and dribbling onto the courtyard tiles? Why did she feel the echo of that slender tune inside her lungs, a song desperate to be sung again, louder, the shape of it so large it might crack her ribs in its desire to be freed?

Víctor de Paredes’s eyes were alight, his cheeks flushed. He looked like a man who had stumbled into a room full of treasure and didn’t know what to seize first. Luzia could sense Santángel watching her from the deep shadows, but she was afraid to look at him again.

At last Don Víctor reached up and plucked a grape from the swollen mass beside his head. He popped it into his mouth, closed his eyes and chewed, swallowed, no sound in the courtyard but the click of his teeth and tongue and throat working, the sighing of the vines.

When his eyes opened, the greed was still there, but he’d lost his unruly air. He spread his cloak over his shoulders and settled his hat on his head. A man who knew what business had to be done.

“An invitation will come to you through your mistress and you will accept it,” he said to Luzia. He gestured to Santángel to follow and strode past them to the door, crushing grapes beneath his black leather boots. “Turn your mind to making her presentable,” he called to Hualit as he passed through the door to the street.

Santángel trailed him, his cloak gathered tight around his narrow shoulders. She could not make sense of the pity she glimpsed before he raised his hood to hide his face and those strange glimmering eyes.

CHAPTER 9

“Presentable for what?” Luzia demanded when the door closed behind Santángel.

Hualit sagged as if her bones had gone soft, then marched to where the table was set with the small jade glasses and heaps of cheese and dates that no one had touched. She poured herself a cup of wine and gulped it down, then poured another and brought it to Luzia.

Luzia pushed it away. “What am I doing here? What does your patron want with me?”

Hualit downed the second cup. “Never refuse wine, Luzia. You don’t know when you may be offered it again.”

“Who was that man? The one with the white hair?”

This time, Hualit tried to pass off her shiver with a shake of her shoulders. “Guillén Santángel. He is … a member of the De Paredes household and has been for a very long time.”

It was hardly an explanation, but Luzia had more pressing questions.

“Why did you do this? Why did you bring me here?”

“Your reputation demanded it. If I hadn’t brought you to Víctor, someone else would have.”

“Does he know I’m your niece?”

“Certainly not. I told him you’re an orphan—which is true—and let him surmise the rest.”

“So he thinks I’m a bastard raised at the Colegio de Doctrinos?”

“You gave me little choice.” Hualit dropped onto the cushions and poured another glass of wine. She was one of the most beautiful women Luzia had ever met, but in this moment she looked only old and tired. “You need allies now. We both do. The man you met last night belongs to Antonio Pérez.”

Antonio Pérez. “Not—”

“The king’s former secretary, Luzia. He is the wiliest, most dangerous man in Spain, and now you have his notice. This is where your miracles have gotten you. You think Marius Ordoño can protect you from Antonio Pérez? You think that the king will simply watch you curtsy and bob your head stupidly and let you return to emptying chamber pots?”

“The king?” Luzia’s voice frayed, cracking on the words. “But surely—”

“The king wants miracles and Pérez has promised to provide them. He is hosting a torneo at La Casilla to find a holy champion.”

Luzia sank down beside Hualit. “I will have that wine now.”

Hualit poured.

“Well,” Luzia said when she’d finished her second cup. “I suppose I’m doomed.”

“Don’t be an idiot. You’ve been given an opportunity and I will help you seize it. For the both of us.”

“Is the mouth of a shark an opportunity?”

“For the shark it is.”