After a few more seconds, the duchess excused herself, told her husband that she wasn’t feeling well, turned down what must have been an offer to send someone with her, and went up the grand stair by herself. Doubtless, she’d told him she just needed to lie down for a little while. “Enjoy the party, dear,” she’d said, or something.
The prince was more circumspect, but not difficult to follow. He made his way to the sweet meats, chatted with a few ladies politely, excused himself and walked to the washroom, which was just down the hall from the servants’ stair. He emerged from the dark hallway a minute later, looked quickly to see that no one was looking at him, and walked past the guard, who pretended not to see him.
Hu followed hard on the prince’s heels, wrapping himself in shadows. The guard was so busy not seeing the prince, the wetboy probably could have slipped past him even without them.
The servants’ stair opened on the grand hallway by the duke’s chambers. The floors were the same white marble, with the middle of the hall covered by a red carpet for its entire length, all the way from this wing to the opposite one, where the duchess’s chambers were. The lights were dimmed as a visual redirection for the guests who might have been at past parties where both floors were open to guests.
Kylar had no idea how long he had to get the Globe of Edges, but he was sure faster was better. It occurred to him that he wasn’t the only person who might have seized the opportunity of the stairs being unguarded. Hu Gibbet might already be upstairs.
The only advantage Kylar had—he hoped—was that Hu probably wasn’t coming just for a smash-and-dash. He was probably coming to kill someone. If that had been Kylar’s goal, the simplest way would be to wait until the duchess gave the ka’kari to the king’s agent, whoever it was, and then kill both of them. That way, Hu would get to satisfy his bloodlust and he would kill the two people who knew for sure what had happened. The king wouldn’t know if the jewel had been stolen or not, and would have no way to ask without publicly acknowledging that Lady Jadwin was his mistress.
If that guess was right, Kylar had until Lady Jadwin came upstairs to get the Globe of Edges. It might be another hour, or it might be two minutes.
Halfway down the hallway, a guard was walking toward him. Kylar stepped backward into the corner, where the shadows were deeper. But then the guard turned and walked down the grand staircase. It was Kylar’s chance. He walked forward quickly, with no attempt at stealth. His chest tightened as he stepped past the one area of the hallway that was well-lit. The landing at the top of the stairs was bathed in light, but with six steps, eyes locked straight forward, he made it across.
The corridor was lined with disturbing sculptures and excellent paintings. Unless Kylar missed his guess, the duke was something of an artist. The brilliant and diverse paintings were obviously selected by a man with a keen eye and a deep purse. Though similarly striking, the sculptures were unmistakably the product of one vision.
Pained figures appeared to be tearing themselves from the rock. One stumbling woman looked over her shoulder with terror writ in every feature. A man raged at the cloud of black marble that enveloped his hands. A nude woman lay back erotically into the cloud devouring her, rapture on her face.
Even in the hurry Kylar was in, the sculpture stopped him in his tracks. It was beautiful. Devastating. It mixed sensuality with something unsettling that Kylar couldn’t identify. And it was unmistakably Elene.
So that’s how it is. Kylar felt as if something were tearing the lining of his stomach. It felt empty, raw. Of course she sleeps with him. He’s a duke; she’s a servant, and it’s hard to say no. Even if she wanted to. Maybe she didn’t. It happens all the time.
He looked at the statue closely, giving a cursory glance to the supple limbs, narrow waist, and high breasts—and found what he was looking for. Though he’d given her a perfect nose, with the lightest of scratches, the duke had hinted at the scars on her face. So the man didn’t just see them as imperfections. He was interested in the mysteries beneath.
This isn’t the time for art appreciation, damn you. With a lump in his throat, Kylar jogged down the hall on the balls of his feet. He grabbed the pouch from his back and had his picks out by the time he reached the door. No light or sound came from the room, so he picked the lock quickly. It had only three pins, so it opened in three seconds. Kylar stepped inside and locked the door after himself. If Hu came to the door, he’d have three seconds’ warning before the wetboy came.
Kylar drew the bollock dagger he’d strapped to the small of his back. The blade was a foot long, and he’d prefer something ten times its size if he had to fight Hu, but it was the best he’d been able to smuggle in.
He cased the room quickly. Most people, aware of the number of difficulties already present in a thief’s life, were kind enough to use the same few hiding places. Kylar checked the mattress, behind the paintings, even the floor under the bureau and several of the chairs for trapdoors. Nothing. He checked the writing desk’s drawers for false bottoms. Still nothing.
Most people who kept items of great value wanted to be able to check on them without much hassle, so Kylar didn’t even go into the enormous closet. Unless Duchess Jadwin was comfortable handing her most prized possession to a servant, the Globe would be somewhere easily reached.
It didn’t help that the duchess seemed to be quite the collector. There were knickknacks everywhere. And flowers, probably brought in for the duke’s homecoming, sprouted from every flat surface in the room, obscuring Kylar’s view.
So the duke bought his wife some flowers. And, from the musky smell in the air and the rumpled covers on the bed, apparently had been welcomed home enthusiastically.
Then one of the vases caught Kylar’s eye. It was ornately carven jade, but more importantly, it had a square base. Kylar picked it up from the writing desk. Roses, spray roses, stargazer lilies, and snapserpents splayed every which way. Ignoring the flowers, he took it to the mantel and pushed aside a hardwood jewel box.
There was an indentation in the stone of the mantelpiece. A square indentation. Kylar felt a surge of hope.
The prophet was right.
The base fit the indentation and Kylar turned it; there was a muffled click. Kylar pulled all the knickknacks off the mantel and put them on the ground. On hidden hinges the entire mantelpiece opened up.
Ignoring the documents and gold bullion, Kylar grabbed the jewelry box. It was large, large enough to hold the Globe of Edges. Kylar opened it.
Empty.
Gritting his teeth, Kylar replaced the case and closed the mantel. So there was his lesson in prophecy. “A square vase will give you hope,” Dorian had said. He hadn’t said that it would turn out to be a false hope. Damn! Kylar paused long enough to fit a knockout needle into a small trap, just in case Hu came in here instead of following the duchess.
Replacing the knickknacks and putting the vase back on the desk, Kylar tried to think. Where could it be? Everything that could have gone wrong tonight had. The only point of light was that he hadn’t seen Elene.
Elene! The leaden feeling in his stomach told Kylar that he knew exactly where the ka’kari was.
40
The prince felt hands grab him as soon as he stepped out of the staircase. An instant later, Lady Jadwin was pressing hot lips against his mouth. She pressed him back as he retreated until he bumped into the door of the duke’s chambers.