“Come in by the fire,” Alec said. The cook was out at the market and had taken Anat with her to carry the baskets.
“I’ll fetch a flannel,” said Seregil.
“I hope that’s something to eat. My belly thinks my throat’s been cut.” Kepi squatted down by the fire as Seregil went in search of a towel in the bathing chamber next to the kitchen. “Where’s that friendly cook woman of yours?”
“She’s off to visit her son,” Alec replied. “But don’t worry. We never send you away hungry, do we?”
Seregil came back and handed Kepi the flannel.
“Your clothes will dry faster if you lay them out by the fire,” Alec suggested.
The boy gave him a dark look and his hand went to the hilt of the knife at his belt as a loud crack of thunder shook the house. “None of that, my lord!”
“That’s notwhat I meant.”
“I’m fine as I am.” The boy grabbed the flannel and vigorously worked it over his wet hair, still keeping a watchful eye on Alec.
Alec saw with some irritation that Seregil was suppressing silent laughter as he filled a plate with cold meat and bread from the larder. He added the remains of an apple tart and handed it to the boy. Kepi grabbed it and began wolfing down the food as if someone was going to take it away from him. In his daily life, that was most likely a common occurrence.
Alec leaned on the mantelpiece, smiling as he watched Kepi cram a handful of tart into his mouth.
“Do you have something for us, or are you just looking for a dry place out of the rain?” asked Seregil, pulling up a stool.
“ ’Course I do, my lord! You said to look for anything odd or out of place. You heard of the raven folk?”
“No.” Seregil took a few pennies from his purse and placed them on the floor in front of Kepi. “Suppose you enlighten us.”
“Nothing special about ’em, except they’re touched in the head,” the boy replied, quickly grabbing up the coins. “They’re queer folk, even for the Ring.”
“Why are they called raven folk?” asked Alec.
“Why, because they barter up for any damn thing you can think of! I know one boy who got a sack of sweets for a glass bead. Another one give Easy Lia a half sester for a lock of her stringy hair, and didn’t even want a tumble to go with it. Now she’s gone missing.”
Seregil exchanged a look with Alec at the mention of hair. “How many of them do you think there are?” The boy shrugged and bit one of the coins, as if doubting its make. Seregil flipped him another. “So? How many have you seen?”
“Just the one-a lame old man with a patch over his left eye. He offered me a yellow stone for my head rag, if you can believe it.” He glanced possessively at the greasy silk kerchief drying on the hearth. “I’da told him to go to Bilairy, but figured you might want to pay-I mean, see it, and so I give him a hank of my hair for it in the end.” He held up a short lock of his wet hair where it had been cut.
“Let me see the stone.”
Kepi gave him a chagrined look. “It got lifted.”
“Someone picked yourpocket?” asked Alec.
“Folk are hard in the Ring!” Kepi exclaimed. “Some older boys seen me trade and went after me. It was give it over or get knifed.”
“It can’t be helped, but it would have been useful. Do you know of any other raven folk?”
“Three or four I heard of from some of the others about the
neighborhood. One of ’em’s a young fella on a crutch, and there’s a couple of women.”
“What do they look like?” asked Alec.
The boy shrugged. “The ones who seen ’em didn’t take much note, except for they was dirty, and making silly bargains for dross.”
“Which means they weren’t young or pretty,” Seregil noted. “So, a bead, locks of hair, and an attempt on your colorful headwear. What do you make of it?”
Kepi let out a scornful snort. “They’re loons.”
“When did they show up in the Ring?”
“Real recent, folk say.”
“Since the closure of the Lower City?”
“Maybe. It ain’t been long.”
“Does anyone know where they came from?” asked Alec.
Kepi bit off a mouthful of bread and shook his head as he chewed loudly. “If they do, I ain’t heard it.”
“Alec, I think our friend here could use a little beer with his meal.”
Kepi grinned, showing off a newly missing canine tooth and bits of bread stuck in his remaining teeth. “Much obliged, my lord!”
“Are they seen mostly by day or night?”
“That I don’t know, but I can find out fer you.” Kepi wiped his plate clean with the last bit of bread.
“See that you do.” Seregil took out a half sester this time and held it up. “And I want to know if they’re in the Lower City, or if they’ve been there. This is a matter of great importance, Kepi, and I need this information as soon as possible. A friend’s life depends on it.”
Kepi tied his head scarf back on at a rakish angle and headed for the door.
“You can stay here until the rain stops,” Alec offered. It was still coming down in sheets and lightning forked across the sky.
Kepi gave him another skeptical look and disappeared into the storm.
“What do you make of all that?” asked Alec, sitting down on the warm bricks before the fire.
Seregil sat on the stool, gazing into the flames. The angle of light made his grey eyes look silver, and Alec felt an unexpected wrench of memory but pushed it away.
“A bunch of mad traders who bargain in hair, among other things, and give out yellow stones?” Seregil murmured, absently winding a lock of his own dark hair around one finger. “It’s certainly something out of the ordinary.”
“We should go to the Ring and have a look for ourselves. Hair could mean necromancy.”
“Not yet. We have a dinner engagement with the archduchess tonight, and I want to see who else is going to be there. Let’s see what else Kepi finds for us. No sense fishing where the fish aren’t biting.”
CHAPTER 31. Hunting Ravens
THE dinner with Alaya that night was interminable for Alec, knowing that precious time was passing all too quickly for Myrhichia. The longest the stricken lived was a week, and not all of them lasted that long. They’d lost a day already.
To make matters worse, they learned nothing of note. Alaya flirted playfully with Alec throughout the evening, but his thoughts were with Myrhichia and later Seregil informed him that he’d told the elderly archduchess that his first kiss had been with a rabbit.
“I thought she said ‘first kill’!” Alec exclaimed. “I wondered why everyone laughed.”
Much to Alec’s relief, Kepi was waiting for them when they returned home, and with more news of the raven people-promising news.
“Some of ’em was seen in the Lower City,” the boy told them, hunkered down by the fire in his dripping clothes, flannel draped over his head as he gnawed on a cold goose leg. “I talked with folk who remembered the old man, and the young fellow with the crutch. But they ain’t been seen about down there since the quarantine.”
“So that must have driven them up here,” said Alec.
“What about the Ring?” Seregil asked.
“That’s the good bit, my lord! There’s a little girl who traded with an old raven woman for a sweetmeat the other day. Now she’s in the drysian temple in Yellow Eel Street.”
“I’m surprised they brought her out at all,” said Seregil.
That temple stood close by one of the Sea Market gates that let into the Ring. “The Ring folk generally tend their own.”
“Do you want me to go back again?” Kepi asked hopefully.
Seregil gave him a few coins. “Go back to watching Duke Reltheus for now.”
Kepi made them a bow and disappeared into the storm again.
“Could the sweet have been poisoned?” wondered Alec.