Covenant's End - Ari Marmell Page 0,55
continued, still utterly nonchalant. “Don't worry, though. It really doesn't stand out in the blond. You can barely see it.”
“Gods above, Widdershins!” He plunked the flintlock down on the desk—or rather atop the papers on the desk—but still readily within reach. “How the hell did you get in here?!”
Her eyes narrowed to the teeniest of slits as she looked at him, idly tapping one foot on the threadbare carpet.
“Well, okay,” he conceded. “Let's try why the hell are you here? By all rights, I should arrest you this instant!”
“Where does that expression even come from?” she asked him. “I mean, it's not by all rights. What you mean is, your orders would be to arrest me right now. But it's not right, and you know it's not right, or you'd be doing it.”
Paschal required a moment, which he spent absently smoothing his goatee, to make sure he'd followed. “I guess I can't argue that.” He smiled, then. “Not that I'd know how, if I wanted to. Julien warned me about talking to you before you and I even met.”
Shins matched his smile with her own, though she knew the ache showed through it, no matter how she might prefer otherwise. It probably always would. “Paschal, you know about his…his…?”
“Body. Yes.” Several papers, probably important ones, crumpled under his fingers. “When I find out who did that—”
“Her name is Lisette Suvagne. She's currently running the Finders’ Guild, after overthrowing the Shrouded Lord. I can also…” She took a deep breath, steadying herself. There's no reason not to. Lisette and her people know where the flats are, so they're not safe no matter what. At least the Guard can bring everyone home. “I can also give you some idea of where he might be. Also the body of Genevieve Marguilles. And, um, others.”
Again she felt awful, not even saying Alexandre's name, but it had been during her life as Adrienne Satti that she'd known him. Trying to explain a connection between Widdershins and the Delacroix patron would be a challenge all its own, and she preferred to postpone that for as long as she possibly could.
Saying nothing, allowing his constantly wavering expressions to do all the talking, Paschal slid a quill and inkwell to the far side of the desk, apparently unconcerned that he knocked several forms to the floor in the process. He then retrieved some blank paper from a drawer and slid it over as well.
Shins retrieved both before returning to her seat and pulling up a second chair for use as a writing table. “The first address is where I know for sure you'll find one of them. The following five are where I think you should look for the others.”
“This is about you,” the guardsman ventured. “Julien and Mademoiselle Marguilles I comprehend, but what's your connection with this ‘other’?”
“Private.” Then, clearly intending to head off any further questions on that score and not caring how obvious it was, “By the way…congratulations on the promotion, Major.”
She glanced up from her scribbling to see that his face had settled in a grief-concealing mask not too dissimilar from her own. “I'd rather the position hadn't needed to be filled,” he said.
“I know. Me, too.” A few final lines, their scritching the only sound in the chamber, and then she placed the paper on the floor beside her chair, using the inkwell to weigh it down. “The desecrated graves aren't the only reason I'm here.”
“I figured as much.”
“Paschal, you and I don't know each other that well, but we've worked together. I know Julien trusted you, and I know that you know Julien trusted me, no matter what I…what my life's made me. I really hope that means I can trust you, now.”
“Assuming what you're about to ask of me doesn't give me reason otherwise.”
“Heh. All right, that's honest enough. Paschal…why the happy hopping hens am I even wanted by the stupid Guard? I didn't kill anyone before I left—anyone human, anyway—and even if you had any jurisdiction over what happened in the Outer Hespelene, there are lots of important people who can explain it all, and I don't know why you're looking at me like that but you're making me really nervous.”
“Widdershins…”
“I also recognize that ‘I don't want to tell you this’ tone of voice. I've heard it so often, I'm basically fluent in it as a separate language.”
“It's just, you…” Again he seemed unable to continue. The mess on his desk suddenly seemed to require very close scrutiny.
For her own