Steelhands (2011) (44 page)

In private, I was actually relieved she had unburdened herself to me. We had never gone for very long without speaking to one another, and
I wasn’t at all certain how to mend relations if too much time passed. Quite fortunately for both of us, they never had yet.

At first, I was too hurt to absorb a great deal of what Laure had to say, but I perked up when I realized what she’d told Professor Adamo—namely
everything
—and what Adamo had told her in return.

In other words, he intended for her to seek the help of one of his fellow airmen.

“One of ’em works in a hat shop—or he owns it, I guess; I’m not real sure,” Laure had told me, looking as though the information didn’t much matter to her one way or the other. She said it so casually that I wondered if she even understood just how impressive this was. Given her interest in the dragons, I would have thought she’d be far more excited. “Name’s Luvander, and that’s where Professor Adamo says I’m supposed to meet him. Never been, but I thought maybe … Do
you
know where Yesfir is?”

I’d been pacing the room, but at that I whipped around so quickly that it was clear I’d startled her.

“You mean that popular little boutique along the Rue—the one using peacock feathers in its display?” I asked.

I
had
heard of it—I knew exactly where it was—but I’d never set foot inside. All the most fashionable hats were for women, though I’d seen that Yesfir also had an immaculate collection of gloves on display. The detail work, the stitching, and the differently colored leather, not to mention the caliber of customers I saw within, were enough to make me burn with desire every time I passed by.

It was like a dream, deposited onto the Rue for my very own enjoyment.
And
it was run by an airman.

This was what I’d waited for, the culmination of all my time in the city, wandering through the Amazement and—admittedly—spying on the glamorous citizens traveling in and out of the theaters. On our very first day in Thremedon, we’d all been deposited like so many bales of hay in front of the statues of the airmen. They were Volstov’s heroes, but more specifically, they belonged to the city, no matter how much some people in the countryside were fascinated with them. Thremedon herself had adopted the Dragon Corps, and now they were as much a symbol of city life as the Basquiat or the Esar’s palace. I had admired their sharp stone noses and their square-cut jaws from afar, the
same as everyone else, and I had been lucky enough thus far to have even met one of them, despite how grim and crass he tended to be.

Laure had been drawn into his confidences, and invited to meet his friends. I wondered—as I unquestioningly invited myself along—if I might even be able to speak with this Luvander the way I’d never dared to do with Professor Adamo. At least it was clear he had far better taste than his ex–Chief Sergeant.

The idol worship I’d felt when I had first arrived in the city—staring up at those noble faces, imagining all their exploits—had returned tenfold. At last, there might be something in Thremedon that lived up to my wildest expectations.

If I thought about it too long, I was bound to be sick with excitement—especially considering Laure hadn’t even suggested I would be accompanying her.

By contrast, Laure seemed neither to understand nor care about the enormity of our situation. It was as though she had received a gilded invitation to dine with the Esar and Esarina, and here she was, behaving as though it didn’t mean anything.

She was a smart girl, infinitely more capable than I was when it came to all sorts of things, and yet I had to wonder over her priorities.

There was a sobering element amidst all my excitement, however, and one that made it easy for me to keep my feet firmly planted on the ground. Laure had told Professor Adamo about everything, and he had believed her enough to offer her his protection—which made the matter very serious indeed. Whatever was happening to the students in the first-year dormitories was a grave enough matter that someone like Adamo hadn’t simply brushed it off as hogwash. And, since he appeared above all things to be an extremely pragmatic man, this gesture surprised me. He hadn’t scoffed at Laure, as I had assumed someone in a position of his authority would have done, having seen all the dangers of war firsthand.

And while I had my own personal opinions on the subject of Adamo’s feelings toward my dear fiancée, he did not seem the type to chase after flights of fancy simply because he liked the person doing the fancying.

“So …” Laure said slowly. “You’re being awful quiet.”

“I’m picking out what to wear,” I explained, which was partly true. “And what
you
should wear, for that matter.”

“I don’t even know where to start,” Laure said.

“Don’t you want to make a good impression?” I asked. “They
are
airmen, after all. And one of them owns a hat shop, which means he has some knowledge of fashions.”

“Figured you’d want to come with me,” Laure said, playing with a loose thread at her sleeve.

“Did you also figure there would be no talking me out of it?” I asked, readying myself to argue my position. “I can hardly send you—a beautiful young woman—to consort with
two
rugged ex-airmen all on your own. You are my fiancée, and even if you were not, such a rendezvous would hardly be proper—”

“I’m agreeing,” Laure told me, “because I’m not in the mood for arguing.”

And, I suspected, because she might have been intimidated after all. Bastion only knew I was. Even if she did not show such things the same as I did, the tight set of her jaw and the dark look around her eyes made it clear to me that she really did know what an incredible honor this was—and also, the gravity of the situation was weighing upon her more than she let on.

I was glad she’d seen my side of things so quickly. I couldn’t very well allow her to go barreling into the belly of the beast without
some
manner of masculine protection. Even if all that protection amounted to was someone like me, it was my duty as her betrothed—but more importantly, as her friend—to stand up for her best interests, no matter the consequences.

I knew she trusted Professor Adamo, and I supposed I had to as well, but things were progressing far too quickly for my liking. I didn’t have any control over it happening, either, which only made the impression of impending drama that much more intense.

One good thing
had
come out of it, at least: Laure had finally decided once and for all not to return to that beastly physician. We still couldn’t say for certain whether that had been the cause of everyone’s fever, but it didn’t seem prudent to take the chance. I still got the shivers whenever I thought about Gaeth’s room, and not just because of the half-eaten sandwich we’d left behind. No doubt it was well on its way to becoming a sentient organism by now. At the very least, it was a homing device for all kinds of vermin. The dormitories would soon be crawling with bugs and mice.

Yet that did not frighten me as much as my wicked imagination, which ran in every direction the moment I thought of Gaeth—wherever he was.
However
he was. All my feelings for hats, pestilence, and airmen aside, this was a serious matter.

Gaeth’s disappearance had been hard enough; I couldn’t imagine what I would do if the same thing happened to Laure.

“What are the conditions for my attendance?” I asked, searching her face to see if the same worries plagued her. She looked tired, I realized, but in relatively good spirits. I gave her arm a little squeeze, and she patted my hand.

“Don’t spend too long figuring out what to wear,” she said. “And don’t make me change, either. I don’t wanna waste any more time than I have to.”

As a favor to her, I didn’t spend nearly enough time choosing a scarf and gloves. But I knew how she hated waiting around when she could be stomping purposefully through the streets like one of the proud horses I’d seen drawing carriages—though, she always informed me, these Thremedon show beasts weren’t nearly as fine as the ones she’d helped to raise back home.

“I wonder if he’s called
all
the airmen together,” I said, checking myself one last time in the mirror. Despite all my preparations, Laure was still more striking than I was—and she hadn’t even brushed her hair.

“As far as I know, it’s just Luvander,” Laure told me, taking my arm as we passed through the door outside. “At least I think that’s it. You know all their names, don’t you? You
must.
”

“Luvander
is
the owner of the hat shop,” I told her, choosing to be helpful instead of goggling in shock at her lack of knowledge. Obviously, in true Laure fashion, she’d paid far more attention to the dragons than to the men who’d been their pilots. Everyone knew only five of the corps had survived past the end of the war. One of them was our professor, the only one Laure seemed to have much interest in, and two had quit the city after the war—I’d learned a few useful things listening to city gossip, alongside all the rest. The fourth was Luvander, proprietor of the famed Yesfir haberdashery, and the fifth was that poor creature with the metal hands, a favorite topic among current city playwrights.

“I can remember a few of the names,” Laure admitted sheepishly. “Adamo, of course, and Luvander—though to be fair, he’s the one I always
used to forget. And Rook, of course. And someone that started with a ‘B’…”

“Are you thinking of Balfour?” I asked her, as we made our way down the familiar path of the ’Versity Stretch. The air was cold enough that it was bound to snow, and I hid a series of loud sneezes behind my handkerchief.

“
That’s
the one!” Laure said, snapping her fingers. “I knew it couldn’t be Bald-something.”

I gave her a look of horror, then quickly pulled her to one side of the street before she could step in the steaming yellow puddle we passed.

Not everything in the city was as glamorous as I’d hoped, but I’d come to appreciate its shortcomings all the same. As long as you looked before you leapt, you could avoid most of her unpleasantness.

And, as I understood it, this part of the city was far cleaner than Molly. I shivered when I imagined what it must have been like living there, and Laure—bless her heart—put an arm around me, as though
I
were the one who needed comforting.

Yesfir was just a little way down the Rue, past the square where the airmen’s statues stood, and a few shops down from the hat shop in front of which Laure and I had nearly been robbed. It seemed like ages ago, but it had only been a bare few months. Despite that, the memory was still fresh in my mind, and I suspected the same was true of Laure. I even caught her looking suspiciously up and down the street—either for fear we’d meet our thief or out of desire for revenge. One could never be certain with Laure, and I didn’t envy the poor fool his position if she ever did catch sight of him.

“Ah, this is it, I believe,” I said, to get her attention.

She tore her eyes away from a man innocently shoveling a pile of old snow, turning instead to gawp at the store windows with her mouth wide-open.

“How many birds you think went into that display?” she asked, tsking in awe. “Do they slaughter ’em, or do you think Luvander’s got a whole bunch of naked Ke-Han peacocks in the back?”

“I give them little scarves and hats in the winter, actually,” said a blond man standing in the doorway of the shop. He appeared more amused than offended by Laure’s question, which was fortunate, and I appraised him from the corner of my eye so as not to be rude. He was wearing a handsome vest with a green scarf wrapped around his neck.
However, he was
not
wearing a coat, so I assumed he must have come from inside the shop, perhaps to grab a breath of fresh air.

There was no question in my mind: This man was obviously
the
Luvander. My brain helpfully provided that very obvious slice of information before it shut down completely.

“What about boots?” Laure said stubbornly.

“
You
try finding boots to fit those little claws,” Luvander said, shaking his head. “And oh, how they scratch!”

“Maybe they’re mad about being naked,” Laure replied.

“I personally would be
delighted
to end up as a hat,” Luvander said. “You’d make a very fine one, with that coloring. I take it you’re Laurence? Please don’t let me scare you off; I’m frightened of what Adamo will do to me.”

“Laure works fine,” Laure said. “And I’m not scared.”

“You certainly don’t look scared,” Luvander agreed.

“As long as you don’t keep me in the back with the naked peacocks,” Laure warned.

“My word, this conversation has turned very fresh very quickly,” Luvander said, blue eyes lighting up with wicked delight. “If Adamo overhears us, he’ll keep
me
in the back with the naked peacocks.”

I couldn’t allow the conversation to continue any longer as it was going. While Laure might have enjoyed the banter, this was no way to go about making a first impression—despite how odd this airman was.

There was another one who hadn’t quite lived up to my expectations. At least he dressed impeccably, though I wished suddenly I could have had some of Laure’s brazen disregard for common courtesy, so that I might have asked him why he’d chosen to open a hat shop after piloting a dragon. The two things seemed quite incongruous.

In any case, I cleared my throat, and Laure turned to look at me, almost like she’d forgotten I was there. She was actually craning her neck for some reason—I suspected privately she
might
have been trying to discern if Professor Adamo had already arrived—and to my shock she actually blushed.

“Oh yeah,” she said. “This is Toverre.”

“Your bodyguard, I hope,” Luvander said, with a wry tone I wasn’t entirely sure I appreciated. It wasn’t an insult outright, but it certainly had the implications of being one.

“Her fiancé, actually,” I replied.

“No,”
Luvander said. “Really?”

It was what I assumed most people must have thought when they learned that little detail—wondering how someone like me had managed to find myself so lucky, no doubt—yet none of them had ever actually vocalized their surprise quite so blatantly.