Page 71 of Inferno
“So now what?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Kit said.
“We’re not damn well letting him out of the cage to prove it,” Henrick said, looking near panic-stricken.
“Certainly not,” Renfold agreed. He looked down at the shirt again. Then, when he lifted his face, he looked straight at Yorin. “You there. Come here.”
Yorin froze. He looked about himself, then even behind himself, to check who Renfold was talking to.
“You, the tailor,” Renfold repeated. “What’s your name?”
“I… I don’t… Um…”
Henrick strode forward, grabbing Yorin’s arm and dragging him over to the captain. “His name’s Yorin,” Henrick said. Henrick was not a particular fan of Yorin’s, despite his love of the fine clothes that Yorin made.
“It’s a well known fact that Nerik frequents your shop,” Renfold said, and as all the multiple implications of that statement sank in, Yorin’s heart dropped to his gut. Oh gods, he was in trouble now. And, depending on how he answered whatever Renfold’s questions ended up being, so were a few hundred Chalandrians. His skin turned cold, even as his heart rate sped up. He’d known, in a philosophical sense, that being close to Nerik could put him in the firing line of any conflict between humans and Chalandrians, but he hadn’t seriously expected to be put on the spot so soon. He had next to no information about the Chalandrians, so he had no idea how to make up convincing lies… and yet he still knew the most important parts; how they disguised themselves, who a handful of them were, and the fact that they had a network of contacts through which to carry out any number of clandestine plans away from public view.
Renfold held up the shirt for Yorin to see. “Did you give him this? It’s very distinctive, and I’ve heard multiple reports that he suddenly started wearing it about a week ago. You did make it, did you not?”
“Yes, I did.” Was there any harm in admitting that much? He would find out soon enough.
The crowd was still making a racket, but Yorin could see that Rimdolen, with Stanley nowhere in sight, was meandering closer to Yorin, closer to the circle of warriors holding the crowd back, while he was still hitched to Stanley’s cart. What the hell was the unicorn up to? Renfold asked another question, but Yorin was too distracted to hear what it was.
“Yorin! Answer me,” Renfold demanded.
“Sorry, it’s too loud,” Yorin said, leaning forward, right at the same time as he felt the subtle pressure in his mind that indicated that Rimdolen had managed to forge a new connection with him. Yorin hadn’t thought he was close enough for that to work.
“Did you know that Nerik was a demon when you gave him this?” Renfold shook the shirt again.
Yorin was tempted to tell Renfold that yes, he’d known what Nerik was, and that he loved him anyway, and that the warriors were all wrong about Chalandrians. But to do so would damn far too many people, with too many unknowns littered throughout the equation.
“Answer me, Yorin.”
Don’t you dare fall on your sword,Nerik’s voice came through the connection, strong and confident.Deny everything. You know nothing, and this is as much a shock to you as it is to everyone else.
Gods, was this the last time he was ever going to hear Nerik’s voice? Yorin found himself shaking his head, even as tears gathered in his eyes. “No, I didn’t know,” he said, and though it was technically true – hehadn’tknown, at the time he’d given Nerik the shirt – it still felt like a betrayal. The only thought that gave him any comfort was to imagine that by convincing Renfold of his own lack of guilt, he might have the chance to defend Nerik at some point. “Believe me, Captain, I’m just as shocked by this as you are.” The tears trickling down his face seemed to convince the captain, where his words alone might not have.
Renfold put an awkward hand on his shoulder. “It’s all right, lad. You couldn’t have seen this coming. None of us did. You were rather fond of him, weren’t you?”
Fucking hell, word travelled quickly. Yorin had only been dating Nerik for a couple of days, had only kissed him in public once or twice, and yet the Captain of the Guard had already heard about their affair?
“He’s not dangerous,” Yorin blurted out, desperate for any way to save Nerik’s life. “He’s the sweetest, bravest man I’ve ever met. He’d never hurt a fly.” Aside from the fact that he’d murdered the previous Captain of the Guard.
“It’s natural for you to want to think the best of him,” Renfold said, far more sympathetic than the late Captain Leefe would have been. But nonetheless, he wasn’t going to listen to pleas for mercy. “But the cold, hard truth is that he’s a demon. He fooled us all, Yorin, not just you.”
A commotion over to the left dragged Yorin’s attention away from Renfold and the unsolvable conundrum of how to convince him to free Nerik. Yorin peered through the crowd, seeing people darting away left and right, leaving a wide swath of space for…
Gods above, it was Stanley. And he was leading a unicorn! As in, a real, horned, shimmering white unicorn, not one disguised as a simple horse. He’d done it! He’d convinced the warriors to let him take the unicorn home!
But the crowd was far from pleased. People rushed out of the way, cursing blackly and doing everything in their power to avoid getting too close to the ‘demon horse’.
Still connected to Rimdolen – the gods bless him – Yorin heard loud and clear when Rimdolen said to the newcomer,Prance about and toss your head. Make a little fuss. Not too much, just enough to get people’s attention.
The unicorn did so, and Yorin reflected that it showed an enormous degree of trust between Rimdolen and the newcomer, that he would obey an instruction that, on the surface, might seem like a deliberate attempt to cause trouble.
“Easy, easy, no need for that now,” Stanley attempted to ‘calm’ the unicorn. “Look here, just come stand over here, near good old Rimdolen. He’s a nice horse. Good old reliable.”
Calm down now and stand quietly, Rimdolen told the unicorn, who obeyed easily.