Imager’s Intrigue Read Online Free PDF Page B

among all, and mercies great and small. For all these we offer thanks and gratitude, both now and ever more, in the spirit of that which cannot be named or imaged…”
    “In peace and harmony,” Diestrya and I replied.
    Klysia set a covered casserole dish before me, and I looked to Seliora.
    “Ragout paprikash. I had Klysia fix it with Grandmama Diestra’s recipe. I had to write it out for her the other day.”
    “How is she doing? Mama Diestra, I mean? She looked tired when we were there for the dinner for Odelia and Kolasyn’s son.” I served Seliora some of the ragout, and then put a much smaller helping on Diestrya’s plate.
    “About the same. She’s frail, but there’s never been anything wrong with her mind.”
    I knew that all too well.
    “She’s already teaching Diestrya plaques. Our daughter can already shuffle…a small deck, anyway.”
    “I like placques,” Diestrya affirmed.
    “Definitely that Pharsi heritage,” I said with a smile, serving myself, and pouring wine for the two of us from the carafe. It was a red Ryelan, courtesy of Iryela and Kandryl.
    “The Pharsi heritage on my side,” she countered. “I still say your family hid some Pharsi ancestors.”
    She was probably right about that, appalling as my mother might once have found it. So I just smiled. “Master Dichartyn and Aelys want us to come for dinner on Vendrei.”
    “We must be getting popular again. Mama and Papa wanted to know if we’d come to dinner on Samedi.”
    “That’s because people have dinner guests more often when it gets cool. I’d like that, but I’ll have to come from the station.”
    “You worked last Samedi.”
    “I know, but I’m switching with Alsoran, because his niece is getting married on Samedi.”
    “So long as it’s just a switch.”
    That was a warning. “It is. Alsoran’s very fair about that.”
    “Unlike Warydt,” Seliora said, her mouth twisting as she said my former lieutenant’s name.
    “Something rather odd happened over the weekend…” I explained about the Place D’Opera explosion. “…and you might ask her if she knows anything about High Holder Haebyn or Factor Broussard.”
    Seliora shook her head, smiling. “She doesn’t know every factor in Solidar. There are thousands of them. There are fewer High Holders, but there are still over a thousand of them, and that doesn’t count family.”
    “A thousand and thirty-seven High Holders at the latest count.”
    “I’ll ask her about both. Even the question from you will make her feel good.”
    “She might surprise us. Again.”
    We both laughed.

3
    Mardi was a typical day, beginning with the usual hurry for Seliora and me—my exercises, dressing and getting Diestrya ready for the day, breakfast, the duty coach to our respective places of work, reviewing patroller performances, a glass or so walking with different patrollers. I didn’t see either Jadhyl or Horazt, and that meant they hadn’t found out anything about the explosion…and that they didn’t have other problems of the sort that might concern me or the Patrol. Jacquet’s report on the specifics of the Place D’Opera bomb arrived by messenger at the station late on Mardi afternoon. It didn’t tell me much more than I already knew, except for the precision of the blast pattern.
    Both Seliora and I were exhausted by the time we retired to our separate beds. Tired as I was, the time before I dropped off to sleep was the loneliest part of the day.
    Meredi dawned gray and blustery, but it didn’t rain while I was trying to keep in shape with Clovyl’s exercises and four mille run, or even after I walked with Seliora and Diestrya to the duty carriage. Diestyra walked most of the way.
    As on this morning, there were times when I couldn’t escort them all the way to NordEste Design, but I tried to keep those to a minimum, and the only time they’d really be exposed was the short walk from the duty coach to the door. I hoped that an imager-obdurate driver