“Two years ago,” Etienne continues, “another Storyteller tried to discredit me with a series of lurid rumors. Today, he brings me coffee at our monthly meetings. This too shall pass. We just wanted to let you know that Belladonna is up to something; I have no doubt you’ll be able to figure it out. We just thought to help a friend.”
Their faith in me is refreshing. I thank them both with huge hugs. We chitchat for another minute or so before Mac declares he better move on, as he doesn’t want to get into a fight tonight. I glance back over my shoulder to find Kellan, now standing in eye line of the hallway we’re in, glaring at Mac and Etienne.
Once they’re gone, and I’ve re-entered the main ballroom, Kellan makes his way over to me. I ready myself for the inevitable attack, but he stuffs his hands into his pockets and lets out a breath. “I’m sorry, but we haven’t met—I’m Overbearing Asshole. You must be . . .?”
A laugh escapes my lips. I point to my chest. “Overly Defensive.”
He laughs now, too. “Justifiably Defensive, I’m sure.” He sobers. “I am sorry, though. That was a really dick move of me to do back there.”
My lips twist into a rueful smile. Like I was any better, getting jealous of Sam.
“There you two are.” Jonah appears, sliding in between two people to get to us. “This place is insane! Was all of Annar invited? I’m surprised the Blaze Marshall hasn’t shut things down yet.”
Kellan jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “I believe he’s on his third saké bomb. We’re on our own if a fire breaks out.”
Jonah chuckles. “You ought to see Zthane and Karl. Moira is struggling to keep them upright.” He gives me a lengthy study that goes from my head to my toes and back up again. “You, though . . . no Mai Tais to be found?”
My cheeks warm. “Evil,” I tell him. “You’re simply evil.” He waits, so I clarify, “But no. None.”
He laughs, and I love hearing this music after everything else tonight. It’s a soothing balm that makes me think maybe, just maybe, everything really is going to be okay after all. The grin that stretches my mouth wide cannot be stopped.
“So,” Kellan asks a few minutes later, after the three of us have miraculously found a place to sit, “what did those two guys want to talk to you about earlier?”
It’s weird, but I don’t feel like telling them about Trixie Grindledottirr tonight. Not after rediscovering laughter. Tomorrow will be soon enough.
“What guys?” Jonah asks.
I wonder if Kellan has mentioned Mac to Jonah yet, their way. I tell him, “Etienne Miscanthus and Maccon Lightningriver. I sit near them in session?”
Sure enough, there’s a hint of disapproval at Mac’s name. And I realize that maybe I haven’t ever mentioned to Jonah that I’m friends with Mac before. Not that it matters, not that it changes anything, but it’s strange, this reaction.
Mac is a good guy, all things considered. I mean, he just went out of his way to help a friend.
To Kellan, I say, “Nothing. Just Council business.”
Which is the truth. “Anything important?” Jonah asks me.
I hope I’m not lying when I say, “Nothing I can’t take care of myself.”
“Hello, Chloe.” The voice is frustratingly polite. “I thought it time for us to talk, just you and I.”
I shove the rest of the hotdog in my mouth and eye Jens Belladonna suspiciously. He has, after weeks of personal surveillance, finally approached me now that I’m out by myself. I guess I thought it’d be under better circumstances than me gorging myself in public, but that’s the thing about an ambush. If you could predict it, it wouldn’t be a blindside.
A small bit of disgust flares in his eyes—over me and my supposedly murderous nature or my gluttonous exhibition, I don’t know. “Shall we sit down?” He points to a bench nearby.
I swallow my overly large bite and nod. Caleb orders me to stay in full view of the hot dog cart; the Gnomes running it know me well. Once we are seated, Jens says, “I do love Annar at this time of year.”
My head tilts towards him in amazement. He wants to talk about the weather?
“There’s change in the air,” he continues. “The turning of seasons. So subtle at first, yet before you know it, one has left and another is upon us, and the two are nothing alike. So similar to life, is it not?” He smiles, but it’s not a friendly one. It’s . . . indulgent. Calculated, even.
“If you’re talking about you losing your job,” I begin, but he talks over me.
“I ran the Guard for a long time, Creator. It’s who I am.” His smile grows. “The Council doesn’t truly understand the Guard, I’m afraid. Whereas you are part of a political beast, the Guard is more of a . . .” He considers his word choice. “Family. Nobody can come in and banish a member of a family. Our ties are strong.”
“You accused me of murder.” I’m angry, more so than I’ve been in a long time. “You don’t even know me, spoke at most ten words before today, and you accused me of doing something so horrible that—” I cut myself off. How can he think that of me?