Page 13 of Horn of Winter

“Sgott’s plus-one invitation is an interesting deviation to normal practice, as I said.”

“Well, it’s not like he’s personally sending out the invitations, so maybe, asIsaid, it’s just a mistake.” I half shrugged. “I guesswe’ll find out this afternoon—if I get turned away, well, we’ll know who’s right.”

There was a small, weird part of me hoping that Iwasturned away, because that would mean he hadn’t bent the rules, that I wasn’t special, and therefore had no reason to hold on to the sliver of hope that Mathi’s comments had raised.

“They are unlikely to turn you away. They could not afford the affront to Sgott.”

I didn’t reply. There was little point. We’d know the truth soon enough.

We continued on through the silent night, eventually turning into Kaitlyn’s street. Unlike all the other times we’d paid her a visit, this time we parked right out the front. Mathi told his driver to remain in the car, then climbed out, offering me a hand as I slid across the seat.

The night seemed even colder than it had been earlier, and fingers of frost climbed up the nearby streetlight. Even the footpath bore a silvery sheen that weirdly did not seem to extend to the buildings either side of Kaitlyn’s. I glanced up; tiny icicles gathered along the edge of the building’s guttering.

Mathi stopped beside me and looked up. “That guttering looks new, so why are icicles forming?”

“Question of the morning, right along with, why the hell is the chill apparently confined to this one section of the street?” I glanced back to his car. Frost ran like water across the Merc’s roof. “You might want to get Henrick to shift the car further down, just in case this cold isn’t natural.”

His gaze snapped to mine. “Are you sensing anything untoward?”

I hesitated, studying the silent buildings either side of the road. The wind remained quiet, and I had no sense of any sort of weather magic happening, but still... “It just feels wrong.”

“Then move the car we most certainly will.”

As he leaned in to speak to Henrick, I walked across to the bright blue door. The small brass sign in the middle said, “Kaitlyn’s Kurios,” and there was an intercom and small camera on the wall to the right.

I leaned heavily on the buzzer and smiled up at the camera. After several long seconds, a sultry but very annoyed voice said, “Go away. I have no desire to talk to you, especially at this hour of the morning.”

“Sentiments I wholeheartedly agree with, but I have no choice and now neither do you. Get up, or I shall make you do so.”

“My bed is metal, so your threat is an empty one.”

I splayed my fingers across the bright blue door, feeling the chill in the wood even as I listened to the song of the inner fabric. It was faint, mainly because a good portion of the building was brick and concrete, but what remained nevertheless told me the location of her bedroom—top floor, to the right of the living area we’d previously confronted her in.

“Yes, but it sits on floorboards,” I replied evenly, “and I do not have to be within a building to alter or destroy it. Would you like a little demonstration?”

Her answering sigh was a sharp, put-upon sound. “Fine. Come on up.”

There was a soft buzz, and the door clicked open. Mathi reached past me to push the door all the way open. “Seriously, your threats are worthy of a Dhar-Val.”

My fingers had left a watery imprint on the wood and that only had trepidation stirring harder. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should.” He closed the door behind us and then followed me across to the stairs. I gripped the banister as I walked up, listening to the soft song and hearing the echo of Kaitlyn’s movements as she climbed out of bed and went into theliving area. I hoped she was lighting the fire rather than grabbing a gun, because the latter would be inconvenient and probably result in me having to tear up the lovely old floorboards again.

Thankfully, when we arrived upstairs, Kaitlyn was kneeling in front of the large fireplace, stacking kindling on top of several firelighters rather than pointing a weapon our way. She was a dark-skinned, sharp-faced woman whose long black hair was currently contained within a green silk sleeping cap. She looked to be in her mid-forties, but the age spots on her hands suggested she was much older. How much older, it was hard to say, as she was part elf and had obviously inherited at least some of their slow aging genes.

She struck a match and lit the fire, then rose to face us, wrapping her loose, fluffy dressing gown more tightly around her body. “I will be putting in a formal complaint about this harassment.”

“Feel free. Sgott or one of his people will be here to interview you later this morning, so you can do it then.”

She frowned. “Why? I’ve done nothing to warrant his attention. Not recently, anyway.”

I stopped behind the well-padded armchair directly in front of the fire, keeping it between me and her. It probably wouldn’t offer all that much protection if she had a gun hidden in the voluminous depths of her dressing gown, but it was better than nothing. Mathi moved to my left and stopped next to the old sofa. If she did make an untoward move, he was within launching distance.

“Oh, you’ve doneplenty,” Mathi said, voice dry. “In fact, I know of a number of contracts you’ve placed in the last few days that are... shall we say, unsavory? My father isn’t the only one who has receipts, dear Kaitlyn.”

She studied him for a moment then lazily raised an eyebrow—a pretense at nonchalance countered by the quick flick of fearin her eyes. “And is it one of these contracts you—and Sgott—wish to speak about?”

“No,” I said. “I’m more interested in the one that’s been placed on me.”

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