Neither one of those options would end well for her. No, she said quickly. I must get home to my mother. She must be terribly worried. She lives right on the quay.
Of course, miss, Silva said solicitously. Ill escort you to your door myself, if you wish.
Oriana caught her lower lip between her teeth. Did he actually believe shed been thrown off a bridge? Perhaps he suspected shed thrown herself from one of the bridges. In the dim light of the swinging lantern, his face was unreadable. No, she told him firmly. No. If youll take me to the quay, I can get home from there.
I feel responsible for you now, miss, he said gently.
She didnt want to be around this man any longer than necessary, no matter how kindhearted he seemed. Please, sir, she said, youve done enough.
May I know your name, at least? he asked.
When people realized that Isabel was missing, her own name would surely be mentioned in the gossip. Silva might remember having seen her in Isabels company, so lying would only draw suspicion. Paredes, she said. Oriana Paredes.
He reached over and patted her blanket-covered shoulder in a grandfatherly way. Im glad I followed the promptings of my gift tonight, Miss Paredes. I suspect our meeting must be propitious. I know we shall meet again.
Not if I can help it .
They had neared the tree-lined avenue of Massarelosalmost a mile from where theyd found herfar sooner than Oriana expected. The oarsman used a hook to drag the boat over to one of the stone ramps leading up to the street level. Oriana rose carefully. Hand folded to conceal the webbing, she grabbed for the rail and managed to wrangle her wet skirts about to get her footing on the stone. Once out of reach of either man, she felt far safer. She started to unwrap the blanket from about her shoulders.
No, you must keep it, the seer insisted. You must go home immediately and change into warm clothes, miss.
Thank you, sir, Oriana repeated dully.
She walked up the ramp and glanced back to see the oarsman shoving the small boat away with an oar. Beyond the feeble glow of the streetlamps, the boats inhabitants were quickly rendered invisible.
Now that shed escaped her unwanted savior, Oriana desperately wanted to curl up somewhere and cry. She wanted warm clothes. And dry shoes. And a bath to get the foul taste of the water near The City Under the Sea out of her gills. She wanted to sleep. Perhaps she would wake to find that it was all a dream.
But first she had to tell Lady Amaral that Isabel was gone. Somewhere in the bottom of her heart she would have to find the strength to do that.
CHAPTER 3
FRIDAY, 26 SEPTEMBER 1902A vague sense of foreboding kept Duilio Ferreira from sleeping. An idea fluttered about in his mind, refusing to be caught. Something was wrong; he simply had no idea what.
He lay in his warm, draped bed, staring up into the darkness. He toyed with the idea of rising, turning up the lights, and attempting to read, but hadnt quite given up on sleeping. His limited seers gift had something it wanted him to know. He simply wasnt sure whether he wanted to spend his night trying to figure it out. He would rather be sleeping. The clock on his mantel, barely visible across the murky dark of his bedroom, ticked past three.
He groaned and tried turning
onto his side. It was something about water. Something had happened or was going to happen in the river.
He was helping the police investigate the work of art being slowly assembled near the rivers mouth, The City Under the Sea . Surely his edginess was related to that. The artist, Gabriel Espinoza, had taken into his mind to re-create the grand houses that lined the Street of Flowers. Hed anchored the first replica in the water a year ago, yet only recently had the Security Policethe regularsbegun to investigate those houses, suspecting that something more sinister than art might be driving the creation. They had immediately been ordered to close their investigation, although it was unclear from how high in the government that order had come. That had only served to pique Duilios interest. As a private citizen, he could still ask all the questions he wanted.
The latch of his bedroom door turned with a faint click.
Reflex more than anything else got him onto his feet before the door opened halfway. He didnt feel the twinge of warning that usually alerted him to danger, but he snatched up the revolver that lay on his nightstand and held it ready as he turned to face the intruder. A shape stood unmoving in the doorway, startled by his sudden action. Someone else waited in the hallway with a lamp, casting the intruder into silhouette.
His visitor was female, even though she clearly wore trousers. That didnt mean she was harmless; a woman could be as dangerous as any man. But Duilio felt sure there was no reason to fear this visitor. He let out a breath he hadnt realized hed been holding. What do you want?
Youre him, arent you? a feminine voice asked, confirming her gender. Erdanos brother.