‘But what do you want?’ Irene whispered. Her voice shook, just as it should if he’d managed to cow her. She’d had people try to break her will before now, but none of them had actually succeeded, and she didn’t want to think about the implications.

‘You as my servant, in public, this very night.’ His smile was the essence of smugness. ‘We’ll already have proven we can strike against the dragons. Having a Librarian in my service too will demonstrate that they will not be a significant threat in this conflict. Wouldn’t you agree?’

Irene’s heart sank. He was right. Parading her as a trophy might push some of the Fae swing-votes towards war. And it was all her own fault for coming here and running her head into the noose …

No, that was what he wanted her to think. She thought of the pendant around her neck. She had done the right thing - the only thing she could have done - in coming here.

It was time to make her move. ‘Brandy, boil!’

The glass of brandy and the bottle both shattered in a gush of steam. Brandy was a volatile fluid, and the bottle went up in a gratifyingly dramatic display. The violence of it took Lord Guantes by surprise, and his attention shifted from Irene as his eyes flicked over to the shattered glass.

Irene slipped the gun from her skirt with her free hand, raising it to point at him. ‘Your move,’ she said.

His attention swung to her again, and this time there was no holding back. His eyes were a thousand tons of weight pressing down on her, cold and heavy as lead, and ice seemed to close around her limbs and heart. His hand bit into her wrist and she gasped in pain. The burn of the Library brand on her back and the weight of the pendant around her throat were once more distant things, far away from the present oppression of his gaze.

Play along, pretend he’s won, part of her mind suggested. Just put the gun down …

She considered that statement. The most important bit seemed to be put the gun down, and that was the last thing she was going to do. She couldn’t stop fighting now. If she did, she’d lose. But it was taking all her strength and, the moment she lost her focus, her will would break.

She could feel herself losing, inch by inch. The gun was cold and remote in her hand, and she could scarcely feel her grip on it.

Do something.

She couldn’t.

‘Answer me,’ he said.

She struggled with the Language for Break, shatter, fall, but she could feel her mouth begin to move in a yes.

‘I believe the lady declines your invitation,’ Vale said from the darkness behind her.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Lord Guantes turned to look at Vale, cutting his connection to Irene. She breathed in great sobbing gasps of air. There was just enough space in her head for her to think, and the thoughts went: Keep that gun pointed at him.

‘Peregrine Vale, I believe. This box is locked,’ Lord Guantes said. ‘How did you—?’

‘I didn’t,’ Vale broke in. ‘I arrived before the performance and simply waited behind those curtains. I found your conversation most interesting.’

‘I see.’ Lord Guantes’ tone was still composed, but Irene detected a sense of simmering anger and uncertainty. He seemed unsure which of the two of them to target, in terms of directing his will and therefore his powers. She wondered suddenly if he couldn’t control two of them at once.

‘And how did you reach Venice?’ Lord Guantes demanded. ‘Must I constantly be interrupted when I am busy?’

‘An unfortunate by-product of your line of work,’ Vale said. ‘Winters, shall we go?’

‘I think not,’ Lord Guantes said, gripping her wrist even harder. ‘The lady will be remaining here.’

‘I’m sorry to disappoint you,’ Irene said. She’d regained her self-control now. ‘But if you could tell us where to find the Carceri, we would appreciate it.’

Lord Guantes snorted. ‘You seriously think I’d tell you that?’

‘I must insist that you answer her question,’ Vale said. His voice was lethally cold.

Lord Guantes shrugged. ‘Or?’ he said.

‘Or I will blow your brains out. I know that your kind have unusual capabilities, sir, but I don’t believe you can enchant both of us, or you would already have done so. And I think that a bullet in the head from ten feet away will seriously inconvenience you.’

Lord Guantes paused, punctuated by a rattle of drums from the orchestra, which carried throughout the opera house. ‘At least tell me how you reached this place,’ he said. ‘If you are working for Silver, perhaps we can come to some arrangement.’ He wasn’t focusing on Irene any more, but on the more immediate threat of Vale. And was Vale beginning to frown in distraction, now that he had to fight against Lord Guantes’ will?

Guantes is playing for time. And Kai was running out of time. ‘Chair arms, break,’ Irene murmured.

The arms of both chairs shattered, wrecking what was probably a valuable pair of antiques. Lord Guantes fell forward, as Irene’s wrist swung loose and she dragged it free from his grip. She backed towards Vale, keeping her gun pointed at Lord Guantes throughout.

His eyes widened and for a moment he hesitated. Then he rose from his chair and stepped back towards the edge of the box, raising both his hands as if in surrender.

Irene spared a glance, and saw that Vale was standing near the door. One of the commoner black half-masks hid part of his face, and he was in a plain dark doublet and breeches. She wouldn’t have recognized him, or looked twice at him, under any other circumstances. He didn’t shift his attention from Lord Guantes. ‘See to the door, Winters,’ he said, as casual as ever.