Page 34 of The Mask Falling

“I’ll speak to them.” I got back up. My legs trembled under my weight. “You keep out of sight.”

I went upstairs with one hand curled around the handle of my knife, too weary for fear. When I entered the parlor, where a single lamp glowed, I thought at first that my sixth sense had been wrong. There was no one there. Then my nape prickled, and I turned to see a woman step from the shadows to my right, as silent as if she had never touched the floor.

“Hello, Flora,” she said coolly. “I trust you have had a pleasant evening.”

5

Domino

The stranger was tall and amaurotic, sharp in a tailored coat and trousers. Dark hair gusted around her face. Equally dark eyes took me in, from my knotted curls to the filthy knees of my trousers.

“Fine, thanks,” I said, and cleared my throat. “Just went for a quick—”

“We can dispense with the pleasantries.” She sounded Parisian. “You were instructed to remain in this safe house until your briefing, but you took it upon yourself to leave. Why?”

Except for the crow’s feet around her eyes, her brown skin was impeccably smooth. Cosmetic enameling. At a push, I would have guessed she was in her late thirties or early forties.

“You’ll have to explain how it’s any of your business,” I said.

“Because your life is in my hands.” She stripped off her gloves. “Isaure Ducos. Domino Program.”

“Paige.”

“Flora. Your name is Flora Blake, and you are now a member of sub-network Mannequin.”

Isaure Ducos walked to the nearest window. She was a striking woman, yet her every move was so precise, so silent, that she must have been able to pass unnoticed in any room. I imagined that she had never so much as knocked a glass over without intent.

“Now we are acquainted, Flora, I will ask you again,” she said. “Where have you been?”

“To the river.”

“From your appearance, I can only assume you swam in it.”

“I needed some air. I’ve been indoors for weeks.”

“Because you are the most wanted fugitive in the Republic of Scion. If you were in such dire need of air, you might have considered inhaling.” No smile. “Leaving the safe house without consulting the network was reckless and foolish. Reckless fools are dangerous in this line of work. Ignore a direct order again, and you will be deemed a rogue agent.”

“What happens then?”

“Guess.” Ducos snapped the shutters closed. “Where is your associate?”

“Still at the river.”

“Naturally,” she said under her breath. “Since he is not an agent, I have no choice but to overlook it.”

“What is he, if not an agent?”

“He is your auxiliary. A support role. Usually, auxiliaries are trusted contacts, or agents drawn from elsewhere in the network. Then again . . . nothing about your employment is usual, Flora.” She looked me up and down. “How is your recovery progressing?”

“As well as can be expected.”

“Our medical officer will examine you in due course. Until then, you should rest as much as possible.”

She sat in the armchair and set a briefcase on the coffee table. The lamplight touched on sharply etched cheekbones and heavy brows.

“I’m here to explain your initial assignment. I remind you—since you seem to have cloth in your ears—that you are not to begin active duty until February, after your period of convalescence,” she said. “Clear?”

Her tone rankled, but there was no point in arguing with this woman. And I wanted to hear what she had to say.

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