“He knows. He sent us into the Ring.”
“You’re workingfor him? Seregil-”
“We’ll keep up with our social life and any spying you need done by night, and look for the raven folk by day.”
“Prince Korathan wants this,” Alec added. “It’s a matter of-of-”
“Civic security,” Seregil finished for him. “If there’s a panic and this is a disease of some sort, then people will flee in droves, carrying it out to spread across the countryside. We have Kepi watching Reltheus for now.”
Thero rubbed a hand wearily across his eyes. “I don’t like this, especially now that they appear to be killing each other off.”
“There’s been another death?”
“Yes. Countess Alarhichia.”
“Her name hasn’t come up,” said Alec.
“No, but she’s a known friend of Duke Reltheus, and another member of the court. Considering the suddenness of her death, I think we should at least consider it another act of retribution. In the meantime, various nobles are retreating to their country estates.”
“Any of our conspirators?” asked Seregil.
“Marquise Lania and Earl Stenmir.”
“Do you think Korathan will send Elani away?” asked Alec.
“Not yet. I’m sure he knows that would start a full-blown panic. You musthurry.”
“I know, Thero, but we can’t abandon Eirual and Myrhichia, either, and we won’t,” said Seregil. “We’ll manage. Neither side seems to be doing anything very dangerous at the moment, anyway. I wonder if Korathan sending General Sarien away has had a chilling effect?”
“Possibly.” Thero seemed to be about to say something as they rose to go, but instead just shook his head. “Get hold of one of those traded items and bring it to me. I’ll see if I can make out anything from it.”
“Thank you,” said Seregil. “We mean to do just that.”
“What now?” Alec asked as they made their way down through the atrium.
“We’d better go see Eirual. Then we’ve got to catch a raven and see if we can make it talk.”
It was eerie to see the pink lanterns over the door of Eirual’s brothel dark, and no warm light spilling from the windows. She’d given out word that they had summer fever in the house, and Valerius had convinced Korathan not to raise the alarm yet, on the condition that the house remained closed to trade.
“How is she, Manius?” Seregil asked as the man led them through the empty salon to the stairs.
“Myrhichia is just the same, and the other girls are frightened,” the servant replied, lighting a candle for them. “We’re all frightened for Lady Eirual, too. She hasn’t left Myrhichia’s side for a moment, sleeps in the same bed with her, and hardly eats a thing.”
“Send up a tray of cold food. I’ll see what I can do.”
It had only been a few days since they’d seen Eirual, but the change in her was startling. Dressed in a plain dark gown, she sat curled in a chair by the bedside with a book open but ignored on her lap. Her dark curls were loose around her shoulders and her violet eyes had a sunken, bruised look. It had been years since Seregil had seen her without her face made up, and it saddened him to see the little telltale signs of
age around her eyes and mouth. The look of hope in her eyes as they entered broke his heart.
“Anything?” she asked.
“No cure yet, I’m sorry. We just came to see how you both are.”
She gave a listless shrug. “As you see. I’m going to lose her, aren’t I?”
“Don’t say that!” Alec urged, kneeling beside her chair. “We think we may know what’s causing this sickness.”
She stroked his cheek. “Then where is the healer?”
“We hope to have proof for him by tomorrow,” Seregil said, bending over Myrhichia. She looked in better health than her mistress. There was still some color in her cheeks, her carefully braided hair shone, and her expression was peaceful.
“She takes a little broth,” Eirual told him.
Seregil took the bowl and spoon from the night table and trickled a few drops of cold broth between Myrhichia’s lips. After a moment she swallowed reflexively, but there was no other sign of life beyond the slight rise and fall of her chest.
Impotent rage rose in Seregil’s heart but he was careful not to show it.
“Can you stay until morning?” Eirual whispered.
“Of course. Come, lie down and try to sleep, love.”
Seregil settled Eirual in bed beside Myrhichia, then stretched out beside her, nodding for Alec to lie beside Myrhichia on the other side, as if surrounding the girl with their shared warmth and hope would be enough to save her. They lay like that all night, Alec and Eirual holding Myrhichia, and Seregil holding Eirual. Alec drifted off, but Seregil remained awake, watching the waxing moon sail past the window and the stars follow. The fifth day would soon dawn.
Brader waited until the others had gone up to bed, then cornered Atre in the front room.
“Have you gone completely mad?” he whispered, furious. “A noble here and there, the old ones, drew no attention, but for the love of Soru, threein less than a month?”
“What makes you think it was me?” Atre protested.
“Of course it was you. You think I don’t know the signs by now? Important people dropping dead for no reason, and you looking like you do? Even Merina is taking notice. She may not know what it all means, but it’s not like she hasn’t seen it before.”
“First of all, I didn’t kill Alarhichia. That was probably someone from Kyrin’s group, or natural. As for the others? I’m sure the two cabals are convinced they’re killing each other out of revenge.”
Brader took a steadying breath, resisting the urge to pummel his cousin. “Each side knows whether they’vekilled anyone or not.”
“Relax, Brader. No one suspects us. This city is too huge to notice what we’re up to. That’s the beauty of it! The vicegerent will quarantine another area of the sleeping death, and the cabals will kill each other off faster than I can. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“I’ve heard that before.”
Atre smiled. “Trust me.”
CHAPTER 32. Stealth and Stones
IT was drizzling when Seregil and Alec entered the Ring again that morning, dressed this time as dirty beggar women. Swords weren’t part of the disguise, but they had knives hidden under their ragged cloaks. Both wore large faded kerchiefs that covered their hair and partially obscured their faces.
It wasn’t Alec’s favorite form of disguise; he felt uneasy with his legs hampered by long skirts, and although Seregil had gone to great pains to teach him how to make his voice lighter and more feminine, Alec always felt a bit silly speaking that way. For this job, however, even he had to admit it was a good choice. They attracted much less attention than they had yesterday.
“Let’s see if we can avoid any more fights,” Seregil murmured, keeping a sharp eye out for danger as they wended their way into a section of the slum they hadn’t been in before.
They did manage to stay out of trouble, but had little luck until it was nearly dark. They were on their way back to the gate, not wanting to get caught here after dark, when Seregil glanced down a side path and saw a stoop-shouldered, bowlegged old man speaking with a young boy and holding something out to him. The man must have been tall in his day, and had a head of wild grey hair that hung to his shoulders, a bulbous nose, and a patch over one eye. His unruly grey beard was stained with something dark at the corners of his mouth.
Seregil caught Alec by the arm and nodded in their direction, whispering, “The one-eyed old man.”
As they watched, the boy took whatever it was and handed the old fellow something back. The man patted him on the head, then stumped away deeper into the shantytown.
“There’s a bit of luck!” Seregil exclaimed softly.
“He doesn’t have anything hanging from his belt.”