City of Diamond, стр. 9
Tal grunted. Adrian knew enough not to take this for assent. He said, “Three years ago—before we had the honor of your company—this corridor was full of rebels. Nine-tenths of Saul Veritie’s inbred relatives tried to storm the Cavern. If Brandon hadn’t handled the situation for me, I’d be dead.” He smiled. “And by extension, so would you.”
“I find it difficult to believe that one clear thought ever made it through that man’s brain in his entire life.”
“He finds it difficult to believe one moral thought ever made it through yours.”
“We know each other so well.”
Adrian laughed. One of the advantages of Tal’s company was the privilege of saying anything you were thinking to him. He didn’t judge anything, and nothing offended him. Meeting a demon had been one of the greatest reliefs of Adrian’s life.
At the end of the corridor, the group passed through the double doors that opened onto the upper landing of the Grand Staircase. The entire Cavern was before them, a huge expanse of onyx floor, walls, and ceiling; gleaming black surfaces that curved into each other, reflecting the colors of the parties assembled below. The three-story staircase unwound beneath them, cut out of the ebony rock six centuries ago by nonhuman engineers for whom aesthetics had been at least as important as function. Adrian, Tal, and Fischer gazed out at Diamond courtiers, admins, knights, ladies of the court, and Opal delegates, all dressed as flamboyantly as the occasion would allow. The two security guards flanking the landing were in full dress colors and ruffles.
Adrian took a step down. Tal touched his shoulder. “Wait.”
Fischer watched as Adrian stopped. Certainly, he thought, for his demon he’s all cooperation!
“What is it?”
“There are more Opal delegates than there should be.”
Adrian murmured, “My, don’t you count quickly.” He looked down at the court, as more and more faces turned up to see them. “How many?”
“Thirty-one.”
Fischer peered at the folk below. He could barely make out gowns or breeches from here. Of course, his eyes weren’t as good as they used to be—
Adrian said, “They’ve only been approved to bring eleven.”
Fischer opened his mouth to give the order, but Tal was already striding just outside the double doors, where a link-station was active. Fischer heard his voice, “—by order of the Protector. This is Tal Diamond, officer of the Sixteenth Rank Of course we mean now, you feeble-minded idiot. Were you assuming—” Tal delivered his invective without anger, but with a razorlike simplicity that carried its own logic. Fischer winced, grateful that he was not the object of it at the moment.
A few seconds later Tal returned.
Adrian quirked an eyebrow. “May we continue?”
“Not yet.”
Nobody else, thought Fischer, would address the boy in quite that tone and get away with it. Adrian waited patiently.
Still looking at the crowd, Tal said, “The security officer told me that they’d had to admit the extra Opallines rather than offend the Lord Cardinal. He said that they had it under control. I asked if this meant he’d brought in extra security. He said no.” As they watched, about a dozen nonuniformed men entered the great bronze doors below and fanned out into the crowd. “All right. Go ahead.”
“Thank you so much.” Adrian took a step. “You know, Tal,” he said conversationally, “the Lord Cardinal was only trying to throw a little territorial weight around. This is just a reception. Bad canapes are the worst we can look forward to.”
“No harm in being careful.” He and Fischer followed Adrian, two paces behind.
“Fortunately the pause added a little drama to our entrance. Knowing the boredom that lies ahead for these fine people, I couldn’t begrudge them any extra excitement.”
“Adrian,” said Fischer reprovingly, in the same tone he’d used when the Protector was fourteen and unranked.
“Come now, Chief Adviser,” said Adrian, “you know very well that if anybody says a thing today that falls outside the welcome ritual, I’ll eat that disgusting sash you wanted me to wear.”
They’d reached the final third of the staircase, and Adrian stopped talking so he could enter the court with the proper attitude of dignity. He didn’t want Fischer to lecture him later. They descended into a lake of crimson and blue ball gowns, formally attired knights in the sigils of their squadrons, and court hangers-on of both Cities decked out in their most impressive silk and brocade. Primary colors were fashionable this year; the Cavern was a giant jewelbox of human artifice. At the final step, Tal and Fischer halted, leaving Adrian to step forward and accept the embrace of Lord Cardinal Theodore Richard Amo, chief envoy and head of the Ecclesiastical Council of the City of Opal.
Amo was a big man, tall and stocky, who looked as though he’d been hauling crates all his life instead of looking after spiritual interests. Adrian hadn’t expected the embrace, but he joined it, he thought, without obvious awkwardness. He felt Amo make a sketchy blessing motion as the cardinal released him, and his gaze went to Bishop Aldgate, who looked like a man gnashing his teeth. As chief bishop of the Diamond, and Adrian’s official spiritual adviser, Aldgate ought to be doing any blessing that was going to be done here. More feathers to be soothed later, Adrian thought. Everybody wants to be loved. He stepped back from Amo’s embrace and threw a smile toward Aldgate that shared just the right amount of pained politeness: What could one do?
“My son,” intoned the Lord Cardinal, choosing a politically unfortunate term of address.
Throwing that territorial weight around again. “My dear Lord Cardinal,” said Adrian. “Our beloved brother of Opal. The Diamond rejoices to see you well. Families should not be divided.”
“Opal is overjoyed to hear you say so. The Separation has been