“I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Excellent!” Ethelred grinned. “I trust accommodations in the city are to your liking? If not, tell the chamberlain and he’ll find a more suitable estate.”
“The house is perfect. You are too kind, my lord.”
“I still don’t see why you don’t simply stay in the palace.”
“It’s easier for me to do business if I’m not seen here too frequently. And now, if you’ll forgive me, I must—”
“You aren’t leaving?” Ethelred asked, disappointed. “You just got here. With news like this, we have to celebrate. Don’t doom me to merrymaking with the likes of an old cleric and a melancholy earl. I’ll call for wines and beef. We’ll get some entertainment, music, dancers, and women if you’d like. How do you like your women, Marius? Thin or plump, light or dark, saucy or docile? I assure you, the lord chamberlain can fill any order.”
“Alas, my lord, I have some remaining business to which I must attend.”
Ethelred frowned. “Very well, but you must show up for Wintertide. I insist.”
“Of course, my lord.”
Merrick left while the imperial rulers exchanged congratulatory accolades. Outside, a new carriage waited, complete with four white horses and a uniformed driver. On the seat rested the package from the city constable. Merrick had offered brandy in trade and the man had leapt at the opportunity. A bottle of fine liquor in return for the worthless remnants of the defunct witch hunt was the sort of good fortune that the sheriff was unaccustomed to receiving. Unwrapping the package, Merrick ran his fingers over the shimmering material of the robe.
The carriage traveled up The Hill and turned on Heath Street, one of the more affluent neighborhoods in the city. The homes, though not terribly large, were tasteful and elegant. A servant waited dutifully to remove his cloak and boots while another stood by with a warm cup of cider. Merrick no longer drank wine, ale, or spirits, and was amused to see this accommodation taken into account. He sat in the drawing room, surrounded by burgundy furnishings and dark wood paneling, sipping his drink and listening to the pop of the fireplace.
A knock sounded at the door. He nearly rose to answer when he spotted one of his new servants trotting to the foyer.
“Where is she, Merrick?” he heard an angry voice shout.
A moment later the valet led two men into the drawing room.
“Please have a seat, both of you.” Merrick reclined in his soft chair, warming his hands with his cup. “Would either of you care for a drink before we conduct business? My servants can bring you whatever you like, but I must say the cider is especially good.”
“I said, where is she?”
“Relax, Mr. Deminthal, your daughter is fine and I’ll bring her down shortly. You fulfilled your end of the bargain brilliantly, and I always honor my commitments. I merely wish to go over a few details. Only a formality, I assure you. First, let me congratulate you, Wyatt. May I call you Wyatt? You’ve done an excellent job. Poe’s report gave you extremely high marks.
“He tells me you were instrumental in getting Royce and Hadrian on board, and even after the unexpected sinking of the Emerald Storm, your quick thinking saved the ship’s orders and the mission. I’m especially impressed by how you won over Royce’s trust—no small feat, I might add. You must be a very convincing fellow, as demonstrated by how you persuaded the Port Authority that Royce and Hadrian were in Tur Del Fur to destroy Drumindor. I’m convinced it’s only by your skill and intelligence that the operation was such a wonderful success.”
Merrick took a sip from his cider and sat back with a grin. “I have just one question. Do you know where Royce and Hadrian are now?”
“Dead. By the Ghazel or the Tur Del Fur officials, whoever got them first.”
“Hmm, I doubt that. Royce is not easy to kill. He has gotten out of much more difficult situations before. I would say he leads a charmed life, but I know all too well what kind of life he’s lived. Still, I wouldn’t even trust Death to bind him long.”
“I want my daughter—now,” Wyatt said quietly through clenched teeth.
“Of course, of course. Mr. Poe, would you be so kind as to run up and bring her down? Third door on the left.” Merrick handed him a key. “Seriously, Wyatt, you’re a very capable man. I could use you.”
“Do you think I liked doing this? How many hundreds of people are dead because of me?”