“What? In that cloud? We’ve got people going in there now. There are reports of screams coming from there.”
“Those are definitely accurate reports,” said Felicity. She briefly held the phone up in the air so the cries of the surrounding injured could be heard. There were distant screams as the fog washed over more people, but around them, there were mainly weak moans and sobbing as the victims lost strength and could only lie curled on the ground.
“Are you all right?” asked the Rook after a moment.
“I’m blind and in some pain,” said Felicity, “but the gift our friend gave me seems to be helping.”
“Where’s Leliefeld?”
“She’s right here with me.”
“Is she all right?”
“She’s a lot better than I am,” said Felicity, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice. “The fog isn’t affecting her at all.”
“Let me speak to her.” Felicity held the phone out and felt it plucked from her hand.
“Rook Thomas, I have no idea what this product is,” said Odette. “It seems to have lachrymatory and vesicant properties.”
“And it smells of food,” put in Felicity.
“Yeah, like erwt — um, I don’t know the word in English. Like legumes,” said Odette. “I don’t know why it isn’t affecting me, although I suppose we can guess. Should we try to administer first aid to the victims?” She paused. “Yes, yes, all right.” She put the phone into Felicity’s hand. “She wants to talk to you.”
“Clements, I’m sending in a helicopter team for you and Odette. Keep your phone on.”
“Uh, Pawn Clements?” said Odette.
“What?”
“Someone is coming,” Odette whispered.
“Did you hear that?” Felicity asked into the phone.
“Yes. Our team isn’t there yet.” Felicity heard an intake of breath come over the line. “Clements, do you have the gun?” She put her hand to her side. The pistol was still there, snug in its shoulder holster.
“Yes.”
There was a pause. Felicity felt Odette’s hand on her shoulder. Is she reassuring me? Or is she going to stab me? She slid her hand into her coat and closed it around the gun. Very slowly, so as not to make a noise, she thumbed off the snap that kept it in place.
“Oh,” breathed Odette softly. “It’s Simon.”
“Who?” demanded Felicity, scrubbing at her eyes in an effort to rub away the burning. She cracked them open, and through her tears and the fog, she could just make out a silhouette walking toward them nonchalantly. It stepped easily over a woman lying in the gutter.
“Simon, my cousin,” said Odette. “He was the one with the sunglasses, the one holding that sleepwalker’s hand.”
“You recognized him?” asked Felicity. She tensed.
“Not till now. He’s wearing a different face, but I just caught his scent.” The Grafter sounded as if she was going to burst into tears. “I can’t believe it. It’s him, it’s really him.”
“And he just happens to be coming directly toward you?” exclaimed the Rook. It was apparent she could hear everything over the phone.
“And he just happens to be coming directly toward us?” exclaimed Felicity with equal incredulity.
“It’s not a coincidence,” said Odette brokenly. “That’s why the cloud started by our hotel. He’s come for me. To take me.” There was a terrible yearning in her voice.
“Pawn Clements,” said Rook Thomas’s voice in Felicity’s ear.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“You have the order. Kill Odette Leliefeld. Now.”
38
The gun was out. Felicity had dropped the phone and closed her hand over Odette’s. In her mind’s eye, she could see the movement she would make, sweeping the gun up, pulling the Grafter close, and firing three rounds into her skull. Felicity was braced for the reports — she knew they would be deafening. Then, if she had time and could open her eyes to aim, she would empty the clip at the man, Simon. She could see it all as it would unfold.
But she hesitated.
And the chance was lost. There was the sound of swift steps, and the gun was twisted out of her hand. Despite herself, she yelped.
“A gun?” tsked a man’s voice. He had a distinct Dutch accent. “I thought you creatures weren’t allowed firearms.” There was a distant clatter, and Felicity knew he had thrown her pistol away. Rook Thomas is going to kill me if I lose that gun, she thought dully, with no expectation of being alive long enough for the Rook to kill her.
“Simon,” said Odette weakly.
“Odette,” said the man, and Felicity could hear the delight in his voice. She struck out blindly in the direction of that delighted voice but hit only empty air. She felt Odette’s hand pulled out of hers and then felt the toe of an expensive Italian shoe hit her cheekbone. Combined with the burning of her eyes and skin, it was too much, and it sent her slumping, dazed, to the ground.
“Simon! No! Don’t kill her!”
“They have you attended by a Gruwel, one with a gun. That gun is not for me.”
“Please.”
“Oh, fine,” said Simon. “Although it offends me on many levels. Not least because you know how I hate leaving behind loose ends.” Felicity heard someone spitting contemptuously but didn’t feel anything hit her. “In fact — my God!”
“What?” asked Odette.
“I’ve seen this Gruwel before. She was one of a team that came and attacked a workshop we’d set up. Set the damn place on fire, and then she and another one vanished into thin air. It was like the universe just sort of folded around them. Horrible.” Then he went on in French, a language that Felicity happened to understand. “But enough about the Gruwel. It is so, so good to see you! We have all missed you terribly. You look nice. I like this suit on you very much.”
“What is that face you’re wearing?”
“It’s a simple dermal veneer,” he said airily. “You just slap it on. I’m currently wearing a utility skin, but I thought since I’m out in public, I should try to blend in a little.”
“Simon, what on earth have you done?”
“Impressive, isn’t it? We have created a real pea-souper.” He said the last word in English, in a deeply satisfied tone.
“A pea-souper?” repeated Odette. “Oh, for God’s sake! You made the fog smell like soup?”
“I know, it is a silly pun, but Pim wanted to make it smell like oranges — you remember his ridiculous trademark. We outvoted him, thank God.”
“This isn’t a joke, Simon!” shouted Odette. “Look at all these people! Look what you’ve done!”
“It’s war, Odette,” said Simon. “You know this. And we needed chaos. It is ideal for you to disappear in.”
“You did all this to get me,” said Odette dully.
“Well, we would have done it anyway, but it comes in handy for retrieving you.”
“You are being ridiculous, Simon,” said Odette. “You have to stop this. This is not a war, and...” — she gulped a little — “and I am not coming with you.”
“It is a war, Odette. A little war. A guerrilla war. You know how well those work out for everyone. But all it will take to turn it into a big war is the right cut. Like this one.”
“I still cannot believe that you want war between the Broederschap and the Checquy. You are betraying your own family.”
“It is far better than their betrayal of our history —” began Simon hotly, but then he checked himself. “I don’t want to have this argument again, and certainly not here. But that war will happen. It is too late to stop it now, and we cannot leave you to be consumed by it. We made a terrible mistake, Odette, leaving you in that hotel. We should have taken you with us. But now, after this, the Checquy will not let you live. You are coming with me.”
“I will not!”
“My darling cousin, you really will.”
Felicity managed to open her eyes a crack and saw the man, Simon, and Odette facing each other. Simon towered over his cousin, and both had those shining all-black eyes. Suddenly, a long serrated spur slid out of Simon’s wrist, and with dizzying speed, he lashed out and sliced at Odette’s hand. She looked down at it in stupefaction and then back up at him.
“Again?” she said.