Ketty Jay 04 - The Ace of Skulls by Chris Wooding Read Free Book Online

nocturnal animals chirruped and hooted from the undergrowth. The carriage was met at the entrance to the grounds by several men who checked Frey and his crew for weapons. After that, they were taken up a sharply sloping drive which wound past ornamental rock pools and skeletal arbours to the house itself.
    The villa was designed in what Frey vaguely recognised as a foreign style, adorned with domes and porticoes. It was asymmetrical to accommodate the rise in the land, and surrounded by multi-layered gardens containing fountains and sculptures bizarre to his eye. A summer place, built for warmer times. On a still winter night in Aulenfay, it just looked bleak.
    Pelaru was waiting for them outside the main door, along with a pair of discreetly armed bodyguards. He was a tall, straight-backed man in his thirties, with the statuesque, arrogant features typical of Thacians. He had olive skin and neat black hair, and was wearing fashionable trousers and a waistcoat that looked far too light for the weather.
    The carriage pulled to a stop and Frey stepped down from the passenger seat. Pelaru walked over to greet him.
    ‘Captain Frey,’ he began, in the lilting accent of his people. ‘It’s my pleasure to—’
    He trailed off as he caught sight of something over Frey’s shoulder. Frey looked back, following his gaze to the carriage. Malvery and Silo were climbing down, but it wasn’t them he was staring at. It was Jez. And Jez was staring at him, an intense, mesmerised stare, and oh, damn it her eyes were shining in the moonlight.
    I knew I shouldn’t have brought her.
    ‘You want to see your payment?’ Frey prompted quickly, to distract him. ‘Silo, Malvery, show the man what we brought him.’
    Pelaru seemed to notice he was there again. ‘Ah, er . . . Forgive me, I don’t seem to be . . . quite myself tonight.’ He shook it off and focused. ‘Captain Frey, we must talk. Walk with me.’
    ‘Don’t you, er . . . the relics, though?’ Frey motioned towards the heavy chest which Silo and Malvery were manhandling out of the trunk.
    ‘Ah, yes, the relics,’ said Pelaru, not in the least bit interested. He put his hand on Frey’s arm and steered him away. ‘Come. We have things to discuss.’ He took one last look at Jez, who’d evidently unsettled him, and then led Frey towards the side of the villa, leaving Malvery and Silo holding the chest between them.
    ‘Oi!’ Malvery yelled after them. ‘What are we supposed to do with this?’
    Frey gave him a helpless shrug. Your guess is as good as mine.
    ‘Well, that’s just great,’ Malvery grumbled. He was sobering up and getting ratty. Frey winced as he dumped his side of the chest on the ground. The crash that followed probably halved the value of its contents.
    He followed Pelaru along a path through the courtyards and round to the back of the villa. The whispermonger seemed deep in thought. Frey hoped he hadn’t been too disturbed by the sight of Jez. He’d known she might be a risk, but he’d needed her along in case things went bad. They might not be able to carry weapons into a whispermonger’s house, but Jez was a weapon herself.
    Behind the house was a tiered cliff garden overlooking the vast, rushing river. The sound of the falls was loud, rumble and hiss, and when the wind blew against him Frey could feel water mist on his face. He could see another island half a klom away, a black hump in the water, dotted with friendly lights.
    Out here, it was hard to imagine there was a civil war going on at all. But the war was young, and Vardia was vast. Frey wondered how long it would be before it reached even remote spots like Timberjack Falls.
    Pelaru walked to the edge of the garden, where a twisted metal railing guarded against the drop. Frey joined him warily. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but he knew one thing: if the whispermonger tried to pitch him over that cliff, he was bloody well coming too.
    ‘There a problem?’ he asked. ‘I thought we