Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 115
decanter down on an ornate dresser under one, and stretched to
grab both sides of the frame. He lifted it off the wall.
An irregular hole was revealed. Set into the plaster was
the verdigrised mouth of a large horn. Calandria blinked at it.
Axel cupped his hand at his ear. He adopted an exaggerated
listening stance. Then he made a talking gesture at her with the
other hand.
She cleared her throat. "I wonder how they did that?"
"The porcelain, or the velum?" Axel picked up the
decanter, and gestured at the horn. She shook her head.
He shrugged, and upended the decanter into the horn.
Red wine gurgled as it drained down into some pipe in the
wall, and, she imagined, straight into the ear of whoever might
be listening at the other end.
Axel cackled with glee and, grabbing up the silk doily on
the table, stuffed it down the horn after the wine. Then he
replaced the picture, and dusted his hands. "That was the only
one," he said. "Now we can talk."
"Oh come now," she said. "Why would they be bugging
us? We're just visiting."
"Timing," he said. He flipped a white, plush-cushioned
chair backward and sat in it, leaning his arms on the back.
"The whole Boros clan is here, and that's bad. Old Yuri may
think we're spies."
"Why? They seem like a friendly enough bunch. Not
that I've had the time to talk to any of them..."
"Ah, you will. You're better at this than I am, I suggest
we attend dinner and you can tell me who intends to kill whom.
They are a murderous lot--did you see a certain statue in the
courtyard?" She nodded. "Yesterday night. A duel. I didn't
see who, or who lost, mostly because it wasn't pre-announced.
Ambush, maybe? Who knows."