I called more horses when we passed another farm, for ours were tired. Six responded. A good number, I thought. They’d look like a herd let run loose, for I did not want Hlanan and the others to know I’d called them.
The three seemed to accept the sudden appearance of unsaddled or bridled horses as lucky chance, for Rajanas shouted to the others to block them quickly. Thianra gave a pleased cry, and Hlanan said nothing. He kept rubbing his head.
We let the tired coach horses go. Once they were out of sight I sent my mare toward home.
As Thianra and Rajanas cut out three horses, Hlanan walked up to me. He was still rubbing his head. “The outriders. How did you do it? Your . . . your shimmer spell?”
“Yes. Told you it comes in handy.”
“How far did you extend the illusion?”
“Can’t do it far at all.”
“Thank you,” he murmured.
Rajanas loomed up, a silhouette against Big Moon, low in the sky. “Can you ride?”
“Of course,” Hlanan said. But he didn’t sound so sure.
Rajanas didn’t say anything, but he rode behind Hlanan, leaving Thianra to ride point. I rode alongside her, figuring she was least likely to ask questions I didn’t want to answer.
Nobody spoke much as we rode through the night. The sun came up as we made our way down a ridge above the river, which had widened considerably, moving placidly over a shallow, rocky bed.
Rajanas kept his hand on the hilt of the sword I’d taken off that coach driver, his eyes moving constantly back and forth, back and forth, as our mounts waded slowly across the rushing water. Thianra sat, grim and unsmiling, and Hlanan held tightly to his horse’s mane, his eyes squinted against what must have been a fearsome headache. The bleak morning sun revealed an ugly bump on the side of his head.
But nothing happened. If pursuit there was, it did not find us. When we climbed dripping and tired up the ridge on the other side, it was within sight of a small town. We rode in not long after, and there we found Arbren and the other servants, and most of the baggage; Thianra pounced on her tiranthe with a glad cry. The servants had been in the midst of trying to raise some kind of search party that would be willing to recross the border.
By then I was so tired I thought my head would fall off my body and roll away somewhere. We stopped at an inn, and I sank onto a bench and watched Rajanas deal with his frightened, excited servants. If he was tired he hid it, and his voice was amazingly patient. Hlanan went outside to watch for Tir, who had been flying overhead, but then vanished.
Thianra sat down next to me, her instrument safely tucked over her back. I remembered that innkeeper’s wife saying She whom you bargained with. “Do you know who sent those hired swords?” I asked.
She gave her head a single shake. “Gear unmarked with anyone’s device, and they spoke Chelan to us, and among themselves. Someone local’s private force, on hire for just one capture. Possibly in disguise. That would explain the lack of pursuit.”
“They’ll just go home and report it as a bad business?”
She lifted a shoulder in a faint shrug. “They might not have known anything more about us than we did about them, except that one of us was a scribe who could do magic. There are several people who could have told them that much.”
“Is that unusual? I mean, scribes who are mages, or the other way around?”
“No,” she said quickly. Her voice dropped a tone. “In certain areas, scribes are even expected to learn some limited spells. Hlanan got interested in magic, and left scribe training, so he knows more than most. But he still works as a scribe.” She fought a yawn, and rubbed her eyes. “What I wonder is, what happened to Rajanas’s own Guard?”
She did not answer her own question, and as I had no answer, we fell into silence until Hlanan appeared before us. “We’ve food waiting, and fresh horses.”
Thianra got up stiffly; I shook my head, unwilling to move.
Hlanan smiled, then winced as if his head hurt. “Come, Lhind. You cannot part from us now.”
“You don’t understand,” I said hoarsely. “You mages might not feel anything. But when I make a shimmer it tires me.”
A flicker of surprise lifted his eyelids, but he said only: “I’ve something to add to our tea that will help. And we’re riding just for a time. This town is still too close to the border.”
“Our puny thief lost his puny strength?” That was Rajanas, of course.
I managed to produce a medium-loud snort. “Just tired of the company.”
Rajanas’s lips twitched.
“Bravely said, Lhind.” Thianra chuckled huskily at my shoulder. “Come.” Her warm, gentle hand on my shoulder somehow made it possible to stir once again, and I followed her into a private dining room.
Hlanan had ordered a splendid hot meal, and true to his word, he’d quietly added some kind of spice to the steaming tea. Warmth and wakefulness coursed through me at every sip.
No one spoke much during this meal. Afterward we trudged out front to find four new horses awaiting us.
We didn’t ride long. Hlanan led us down the road into a very small village built up against a cliff. He took us to a cottage, and we were met by a smiling old woman.
By this time the effects of his herbs had worn off, and I could hardly think for the sleep-longing. So I followed the others inside the little house, and when pointed toward a loft I somehow made it up the ladder, onto a straw-stuffed pallet, and dropped gratefully. I was too tired even to arrange my take inside my clothes. I curled into a ball and slept.
And woke, eventually, to the sound of voices drifting up from below: Rajanas’s, Thianra’s and a high, pleasant voice I did not recognize. Looking about me, I saw an empty pallet and one with a long figure on it. I sat up and glimpsed part of Hlanan’s face within the protective curve of one arm. As I sat back down some of my coins clinked. It was not a loud sound, but it was enough to cause Hlanan’s eyes to open.
“Sorry,” I said.
His sight was clear. He was one of those, like me, who come awake completely. It made me wonder a little about his background.
“I suppose you don’t know transportation magic?” he asked.
I shook my head firmly. “Remember? I stole one spell.”
“Ah. I’d forgotten.” He rubbed his eyes, then felt his head with care, wincing and grimacing. Then he sat up.
Below, Rajanas said, “They’re finally awake, I believe.”
“We are,” Hlanan called with unimpaired good humor.
I followed him down. Rajanas lounged by the door, his fingers moving with absent restlessness on the hilt of his sword. His eyes were shadowed beneath. He probably hadn’t slept.
As soon as he saw us, he spoke. “My harbor Guard caught up with us—or five of them, anyway. You were right. They’d been ambushed as well. They were searched and stripped of weapons and your tracer-ring.”
“Well, my other seems to have either fallen out of my pocket or been looted while I was incapacitated,” Hlanan said with regret. “They escaped?”
“Yes. Left Nian behind. Took a wound in the fight. Three of them will go back for him. The rest are on their way back to Letarj to guard the yacht. Meanwhile, we have not been followed, and the Mistress says she senses no magical tracers on us. Shall we go?”
Hlanan rubbed his eyes again, his body tense. “Mistress?” he turned to the old woman.
“I will help you. Do you have a Destination—”
“Don’t use it,” Rajanas said abruptly. “If there’s trouble in my city, the Destination chamber in the palace will be ringed with waiting guards.”
“Right.” Hlanan gave a short nod, and ran his hands down his tunic. “Outside the gates. That’s open area. I feel better about that, being as tired as I am.” He glanced at the window. “I hope Tir knows where we are going.”
I was about to ask where we were going, and how, when the old woman they’d addressed as Mistress said calmly, “Take hands. Stand in a circle.”
Thianra’s slim fingers wrapped warmly about my hand, and on my other side Hlanan gripped my fingers almost tight enough to crepitate. Then he and the Mistress muttered strange words that made my ears sing in a not-unpleasant way—
—And colored fog swirled about us, then cleared.
We stood in an open field with blossoms nodding peacefully around us.
“Ho,” Hlanan murmured, letting me go and sinking down onto the grass. “Did it.”
Thianra shivered, and sat down also. Rajanas’s face was pale as old cheese, but he only turned, swayed once, then wrenched himself erect. “I’ll spy out the situation,” he said shortly, and walked off through some trees.
“What’s wrong? Are you sick?” I asked. “Should I find some water?”
Thianra looked up wearily. “It’s that trans—”
“Never mind,” Hlanan said. He lifted his head and opened his eyes to gaze at me. His expression was very hard to define: sort of bemused, and a little sad. “We’ll be all right. I just hope Rajanas’s correct about no one attacking his city.”
“Is that where we are?” I asked. Intense curiosity stirred up questions like bees swarming when a stick hits their hive. “So that was real send-magic? Hoo! That’s a handy thing . . .” I stopped.
Thianra grinned at me. “Don’t even ask him. Besides, those who use magic to get away from thievery tend to get traced, and you wouldn’t want any of the Magic Council on your trail.”
I shook my head hard. “No-o-o-o-o-o. Not me!” I said quickly, though I wondered if it was possible to actually steal such a spell. Only how would I manage, even if it was? Everything I did was by instinct. “One spell’s enough, and besides, half the fun of a good take is the getaway. It was only a thought.”
Hlanan looked away, his mouth strictly controlled. Thianra laughed silently. I saw again their resemblance, and said, “How are you related?”
Have you ever walked into a room and felt the floor drop away? Well, I must admit I haven’t had that actually happen to me, but that’s what it felt like. I’d asked what I thought was a harmless question, then watched in amazement as all the laughter bleached from their faces.
Thianra’s gaze narrowed speculatively. “How did you know that?”
I shrugged. “I . . . see it.”
“You are very observant,” she said, and in a lower voice, “and so am I.”
“What do you mean?” I asked uneasily, poised to run, tired as I was.
“Nothing ill.” She leaned toward me, speaking so softly that only I could hear. “It is just that I wonder why you wish to be taken as a child, when there is that in your face that indicates experience.” She caught Hlanan’s gaze, straightened up, and smiled. “Ah, but your secrets are yours to keep. As for ours . . . we share one parent. We don’t talk about that, though.”
“Why not?” I asked, unsettled by her question. I gabbled fast to get her thoughts, at least, away from what she’d said. I wasn’t sure he’d heard her. “Got caught and thrown in jail? Afraid nobody will hire you to sing if you’ve got a thief for a parent?”
Hlanan touched my arm. “It’s something like that, but we’re not ashamed of our background. We are who we make ourselves to be, whatever our parentage. Still, we don’t talk about it, which I suspect you can understand. Can we ask you to keep that between us?”
“I’m mum,” I said, spreading my hands. “Does the Rat-spawn Rotter know?”
Thianra turned away, laughing soundlessly. Hlanan said, “Yes. Rajanas knows. But he’s really the only one. He and I have been friends since we were small.”
“Gate’s opening for us,” Rajanas’s dry voice broke into the conversation.
We got to our feet and followed Rajanas through the trees. When we emerged from the copse, we faced a good-sized walled city. As we approached it, the mighty gates began to swing open. Rajanas and Hlanan did not seem to notice; having gone a little ahead, they were involved in a low-voiced conversation.
Only that Rajanas would have the crust to walk, alone and on foot, to a guarded wall to see who was in possession, I thought.
“You’re smiling,” Thianra observed from my side. “At what prospect?”
I pointed my finger at Rajanas. “He’s crazy. I would have waited and snuck in at night.”
“It’s his city, and his principality—Alezand,” she said. As if that should have explained it.
Well it didn’t, not for me anyway, but I forbore questioning when I saw some riders come galloping through the gates toward us. They led a string of four riderless horses. Presently we were circled by a group of guards wearing sky-blue tunics with a black device. We mounted fine-bred chargers, me with some difficulty, for I’d never managed with a saddle and reins before. Seeing my hesitation, a woman with looped yellow braids dismounted and tossed me up into the saddle with one strong movement.
The leader saluted Rajanas, received a lazy wave in return, then the guards formed in two lines behind us. I exchanged a grin with the guard who’d helped me, then our cavalcade set off through the streets.
Busy people crowded the streets of Imbradi. Absent were the usual signs of poverty I’d come to expect in a city. No beggars, no shabby open markets. The shops were built close together, the buildings steep-roofed with stone and even brick fronts. Ironwork decorated stair-rails, signs, and door latches, and many of the buildings had ivy growing up the walls. Age-smoothed stones paved the streets, the canals whose bridges we rode over looked and smelled clean, and I saw no piles of refuse anywhere.
The people wore brightly colored clothing, of cloth and design more flowing than what I’d been seeing in Thesreve. I saw none of the short tunics so popular with rich men in Tu Jhan. Those who didn’t wear long robes wore long tunics slit up the sides where one could see loose pants stuffed into the tops of boots—like Rajanas’s clothes. There was more embroidery on everyone’s clothes than I’d seen anywhere, and not the geometric patterns I was used to seeing, but flowers, vines, leaves. I also saw every kind of headgear, from feathered caps to veils and turbans.
This is a dream city, I thought. I wonder if they have thieves.
Of course they have thieves. If you have people and goods you have thieves. But I took in all those knives and swords worn at people’s sides, and wondered how easy a thief’s life would be here, in spite of how comfortable things looked.
As we rode slowly through the streets, people parted, some looking on us curiously. Salutes were made to Rajanas, hands lifted, palm out. Some bowed; Rajanas nodded to right and left.
Up ahead the streets broadened into a wide green park. Through a gate and we were surrounded by well-tended trees and shrubs, and when those gave way, we rode into the courtyard of a huge marble palace.
At once stable hands in sky-blue and black livery came running out. For a moment confusion reigned as everyone dismounted and the horses were led away. A tall, impressive servant emerged from an impressive door and Rajanas walked back inside with him.
Hlanan appeared at my shoulder, his mouth smiling but his eyes quirked with tension and question. “Want something to eat?”
“Does a horse have feathers?” I joked. My mood was good. It seemed, amazingly enough, that I was going to be invited inside this toff palace. “Always. I am always ready to eat.”
“We’ll go straight along to the kitchen, then. I’ll leave you there, and send a messenger to retrieve you when you’re done. Thianra, I’ll take you up to the Residence wing after we’ve left Lhind with the food.”
Thianra returned no answer. She studied Hlanan, cast a glance my way. Her lips parted, then she gave her head a little shake, and walked away.
That was odd. “This way,” Hlanan said, before I could frame a question. I wasn’t even certain what to ask.
Hlanan led the way down a corridor with whitewashed walls and clay-tile floors. Wonderful smells soon wafted their way toward us, getting stronger at every step, and I couldn’t think of anything but the yawning emptiness inside me, which seemed to reach right down inside my toes. Cinnamon—bread—baking fruit. My stomach rumbled.
We rounded a corner and passed through a large archway, then entered a huge room with five large ovens and a whole wall of open fireplace. There must have been six or seven long preparation tables with people at every one cutting, forming, filling, kneading. At the far end stone steps led down into a cool-room, and people bearing trays were going up and coming down.
As we entered a tall, thin man wearing a clean white apron came toward us. “Good day to you, Scribe,” he said.
“Good day, Master Cook,” Hlanan returned. “This is Lhind, and his highness has asked that you give him whatever he wants to eat. I’ll send one of the pages along to fetch him. Lhind,” this to me, “stay here and enjoy your meal. I’ll see you again soon.”
Once again I saw question in the faint quirk of his brows, his quick glance that lowered to his hands when I turned his way, but I knew by now that whatever was going on inside his head wouldn’t harm me. I smacked my hands together, rubbed them, and grinned. “Don’t hurry that messenger,” I said.
He turned away, not before I caught his expression. A wince? Then I remembered that knot on his head. Maybe he was going to lie down. I wished him well of his rest, as I took in the delights the kitchen offered.
The Master Cook picked up a plate. “Here you go.” His gaunt face was no less friendly now that Hlanan was gone. “Help yourself, just don’t break up the whole pies.”
I offered fervent thanks and made a fast circuit of the room, grabbing one or two of every tart, pie, and dish that looked good. I got a slice of vegetable pie, several tiny apple pastries, and a jug of cream to pour over anything I wanted. When the plate was piled too high to add anything more, I sat down on a low bench along one wall, and settled in for a long and blissful meal. An assistant brewer brought me water, and two kinds of freshly squeezed fruit juice.
I was just polishing off the vegetable pie when a cheerful brown-faced boy in a clean sky-blue-and-black livery tunic thudded onto the bench beside me. His eyes were the color of berries and he had teeth missing. His brown hair stuck up in shocks.
“Good day,” he said. “I’m Mardi, third page. The Scribe told me to stay with you till you were done eating, then bring you to the Gold Suite.”
“Good,” I said, pointing to the food. “Prepare for a wait.”
His eyes rounded as he surveyed the empty tins and the pile waiting to be eaten. “Will you eat all that?”
I shrugged. “If I don’t, I’ll stash it for later.”
“Later?”
“Sure. Never know when you’ll eat next.”
His surprised face told me not only had he always known when he would eat next, he also thought it a very dull arrangement. He looked at me again more closely. “Whose ’prentie are you, and what d’ya do?”
“Nobody’s,” I said, taking a huge bite of a chocolate tart. “I’m a thief.”
His gaze ran over me again, this time with a kind of wary respect. “What have you—”
“Ask me when we leave. Now I want to eat. Tell me about being a page.”
He shrugged a shoulder impatiently, still eyeing my filthy Thesreve-style clothes. Then he straightened up, and I knew that, poor as the job seemed to him, he was going to do his best to impress me. “I’m third page this year. Residence and first floor runs. Next year, perhaps, council and then throne room runs. And then equerry, with my own horse. And already I have half the map memorized,” he added proudly. “And I speak a lot of Chelan, and some Elras.” He blinked. “The Scribe told me to speak Chelan, but you seem to know our language—Allendi.”
I shrugged, fighting the alarm that was quick to bang at my heart whenever someone seemed to think I was outside whatever they regarded as normal.
It’s all right. I’m safe now, it seems. “Picked it up once. So you’ll be a messenger, is that it?”
He nodded, going on to disparage some of the other pages, illustrating with mistakes they’d made in delivery or protocol.
As I listened, I considered the idea of becoming a messenger. After all, I was good with horses and I could speak any language I heard. That would be an honest living, and a fun one, if I decided to retire from thievery someday. And I wouldn’t have to stay around any one place or person long enough to be betrayed.
I think I’ll ask Hlanan about it. I know he’ll be pleased.
This idea delighted me so much I decided to put it into action at once. “Let’s go,” I said, sweeping the remains of my meal into my already-greasy tunic pocket for later.
His eyes widened at this, his approval now vast. But he said nothing, striding out briskly so that I had to hop to keep pace. He was maybe half a head taller than I and his legs were much longer than mine.
We left the servants’ area with the whitewashed walls and clay floors and entered the marble-floored, elegant palace. Air moved along through wide archways decorated with carved vines, above each one a cartouche with Rajanas’s stylized wheat sheaf in its center.
We hustled past tapestries and mosaics, Mardi naming the official functions of impressive state chambers, then we galloped up a long, curving marble staircase and down another hall.
Finally we entered a room with a huge carpet of ivory, brown and gold vines twined together. Overhead hung a crystal chandelier as big as a chair, and the furniture was all thin curving legs with inlaid gold. At one side six tall windows let in streams of slanting light, which reached the carved door opposite.
Hlanan stepped through that door, his face calm but his eyes more serious than I’d ever seen. “Thank you, Mardi,” he said. “Lhind—” He indicated the door behind him.
“I just got a great idea,” I said cheerily as I preceded him into a small room. “From Mardi. It’s about what I could do that’s perfectly honest—”
On that word, something strong but invisible closed an icy vice around my heart.
The door clicked shut behind me.
I whirled around, but the invisible bands pulled tighter, leaving me gasping for air.
I was trapped.