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Ariette, Luca, and two guards have been despatched under detailed instructions to investigate Lord Grue de Agen's city home - which has the immediate drawback of Havelock and Brix being left with no immediate action to take themselves.

Havelock had resumed his lesson very briefly in calm, measured tones that left the apprentices frozen in silent uncertainty, until he dismissed them with a sadistic quantity of reading to do on top of their delayed presentations.

After that, Gentian seemed the logical place to return.

The place is still in something of a flurry, quiet though its members habitually are, and matters are not improved by a tall black-clad Mandrake stalking his way through the corridors with Brix nó Balm de Marsilikos beside him - surely she would have left by now, even as a concerned patron? - and stopping members of the House seemingly at random as they go.

It's only a matter of time before they find someone who remembers Matthieu's encounter with Grue de Agen.

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Havelock listens in silence, feeling suddenly cold.

It's not that he had supposed the man innocent of deliberate wrongdoing - he has kidnapped Matthieu, for the love of Elua - but to go on even once warned off, to make light of the need for a signale in such a way...

Such a way as to preempt Matthieu from using it.

Perhaps that was another reason why he did not go to Valerian. One trained there fully would not have been so easily manipulated.

"No doubt," he says.

"Your impressions are accurate."

"Havelock," Brix warns. She does not want anyone to have the faintest impression that she has told -- even implied -- to any that she thinks Jonathan is the culprit. Casting aspersions on his behavior with Matthieu here, in this House, seems incautious at best.

"Thank you for telling us, Claire."

"Yes," she murmurs, "of course."

In Claire's mind, the seed had already been planted. Of course, she doesn't know what to make of the juxtaposition; just because a patron is unwontedly cruel does not mean he is a kidnapper.

Are they going to make trouble for someone just because of what she's said? Claire can't imagine the mess that would arise if they sent Gentian's guardsmen-- the palace guard, even-- rummaging around through a lordling's home for evidence of a crime he never committed.

"Please be careful," she adds, voice dropping softer.

"If you put yourselves in Naamah's hands, I'm sure it'll turn out all right."

(But Claire is just old enough now that she's not sure. Not entirely.)

"We'll not act on a mere suspicion, child," Havelock tells her.

Accurately enough.

They have far more than suspicion.

"But it is better than we know. You were right to speak."

"Yes."

Brix takes one of Claire's hands in both her own.

"Claire, tell your Dowayne what you told us about last night. But please -- if you value Matthieu's life -- tell no one that you spoke to us of this. Do you understand? If anyone asks, say we all spoke as friends of Matthieu's. Pain shared is pain lessened, after all."

Claire's eyes widen.

If she values his life?

(Well, the guard did vanish, didn't he? And no one thinks they've run off together, or not seriously they don't.)

Oh, Naamah. Oh Elua--

"Yes," she says.

A slow nod.

"All right. Only as friends."

"Good," says Havelock, and finally looks away.

"It is true enough, after all."

Would that they could be certain they will have him back safe by tomorrow, and promise that to Claire now.

All they can do is their best.

Or their worst - depending on the circumstance.

Nodding in turn, Brix stands up and leans down to kiss Claire's hair.

"Good girl. Don't be afraid, my dear." She smiles faintly as she straightens. "We're in Naamah's hands."

Now, if only she can take her own advice.