Wicked Bronze Ambition

59

We were clip-clopping along the Street of Dreams now, nearing its head and the great brooding mass of Chattaree, epicenter of the Orthodox rite. “Been a while since I’ve been here,” I said. There had been a case involving a bad magister back before General Block, Deal Relway, the reform of the Watch, and the founding of the Unpublished Committee. Hardly anyone knows about it. The Church handled its own dirty laundry, as ever it had. I told Moonblight the story, without nostalgia. We had by then dismounted and established ourselves on a public bench across from the cathedral.

“I knew a little about it,” she said, never asking why we were sitting when we could go inside and do. Chattaree was open to anyone who wanted to wander in. That was part of its function. “Constance had your background examined when it became obvious that Strafa was smitten and determined.”

That surprised me but should not have. I said so.

Tara Chayne responded, “Strange as the Algarda family dynamics are, they are a family. Insular in the extreme, yes, but you’re right. Constance is thorough. She probably knows more about you than you remember yourself. Her unreserved approval must have surprised a lot of people.”

Did that make me uncomfortable? Yes, it did. “It stunned me. I expected to be chopped into dragon chow first time Strafa took me to meet her formally.”

“Presumably Constance saw something no one else but Strafa did. Quickly, anyhow. I believe I’m starting to get it.” She gestured, including Brownie and the girls, which only made me feel more lost.

She chuckled when I moved a few inches away. “Garrett, sweetheart! You’re safe here. I don’t do my business in public.”

Must be stamped on my forehead in big red letters that don’t show up in a mirror: THIS IS GARRETT, BORN TO BE GIVEN A HARD TIME. ENJOY. And, yeah, lately I’ve been working on clearing enough upper-level forehead to make room for all that.

I concentrated on Chattaree, which was as much ugly citadel as it was cathedral. Never much for ambling through TunFaire’s remoter past, I didn’t know why the original builders had gone for hideous instead of sublime. And, as I did every time I beheld it, I wondered, “How many millions of old-time marks did they spend to pile all that limestone up that high?”

“Do you really care?”

“Not much. It wasn’t my money.”

“The elders are still servicing the loans taken to finance the construction.”

My opinion of Chattaree was down there with snakes’ balls. It was like the architects and artisans had made special efforts to generate the maximum in repulsion, but then had changed their minds partway through the project. They had started with a step pyramid, but once they got thirty feet above ground level, new management decided to plant a cathedral where the rest of the pyramid ought to go. That part was all soaring spires covered with curlicues and gargoyles.

Chattaree dominated the skyline for miles around.

I considered the steps. There were forty, of irregular height and width. Brownie came and rested her chin on top of my right leg, considered me with big brown, soulful eyes. Wishful thinking took me back to the unreasoned devotion Strafa had shown. I missed her bad. “You think Strafa and I would have made it?”

“I don’t see why not. She was devoted to you.”

“I got that part. But for a total genius she was a little simple. Somebody promised me she would be trouble because of the way she lived before we got together.”

“The Algardas put that darkness behind them.”

“Not the family complications, just the fact that Barate never let her grow up.”

“Because she was spoiled, you mean?”

“Partly that. And she never developed any life skills. Though I’m not quite sure that nails it, either. Kind of, the way she lived before she met me was the only way she ever lived, so that’s the way she’d always expect things to go on being.”

“I see. You could have seen some of that. But don’t forget that when she was much younger and even less worldly, she managed a line tour in the Cantard without anybody to hold her hand. She bore down and dealt when the fire began to burn.”

“Oh. Yeah. I didn’t think about that. Where was she? Never mind. I don’t want to know. I’d hate it if it was somewhere even worse than where I was. She never talked about it. Not even once.”

“Do you talk about it?”

“No.” Since I never see any of the guys I was down there with anymore.

“Case closed. You worry too much about stuff that doesn’t matter.”

“You aren’t the first to notice.”

“I don’t think our man is going to come out to us. Let’s go find him. We do have other stuff to do.”