Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 29
Emmy said something Jordan didn't catch. Dry laughter
from the men. Then she gave a little shriek: "Oh!"
"Here comes the lady," said Turcaret suddenly.
"All right, Emmy. That will be all," said Castor in a
distracted tone. "Remember what I told you about tomorrow."
Jordan heard the door on the far side of the library open.
Castor started to speak, but he was cut off by a strong female
voice Jordan had never heard before. "All right, gentlemen,
what about our agreement?"
Another door, this one around the corner of the same
hallway Jordan was in, opened and closed. He left off
eavesdropping and ran around to find his sister leaning against
the wall underneath a watchful portrait of one of Castor's
ancestors.
"Emmy!" She looked up, then away. To his surprise, she
turned and started to walk away without even acknowledging
him.
"Hey! What are you doing?" He caught up to her. He
felt a fluttering uneasiness in the pit of his stomach. "I talked
to Allegri--everything’s all right. There’s nothing wrong with
me."
Emmy rounded on him, grabbed him by the shoulders
and pushed him against the wall. "Where were you when I
needed you?" she shouted. "Everything is not all right. It’s
not!" She thrust herself away and ran off down the hallway.
Jordan stayed leaning on the wall for a long moments. Then,
still feeling the prints of her hands on his shoulders, he
slouched back the way he had come. What had happened? It
was as if last night some veil had been withdrawn from reality,
showing behind it an ugly mechanism.
For just a second, he saw blue sky, clouds, heard the
snorting of a horse. "Oh, stop," he murmured, squashing the