“No, that’s one of the properties of the stone; it doesn’t take on the essence of those who handle it. That’s about all that makes it valuable, actually.” He held the crystal so it caught the light again. “It’s just the sort of thing a child would like, isn’t it? And sweetmeats.”
“I’d like to know where our strange friends got it from,” Seregil mused. “If they bought it here, then the dealer might be able to tell us something. But if they brought them here themselves, then they may not be from the city after all. Is your man in Farrow Street the only one who sells these?”
“I doubt it,” replied Thero. “I’ll make inquiries around the House to see if anyone gets their stones from somewhere else. As far as you know, is it always a trade?”
“We only know of a few cases for certain, but it was a trade those times,” Alec told him. “I think that must be significant. Otherwise the ravens could just as easily buy or steal what they want, right?”
Thero pondered that for a moment, clearly intrigued in spite of himself. The wizard loved a riddle as much as Seregil did. “Given the nature of the trades, it isn’t like for like,” he mused. “And apart from the quartz, none of the objects had any real value?”
“Is a hog’s tooth used for any magic?” asked Alec.
“None that I know of. And even if it were, you wouldn’t need to trade with a child to get what you could have for free from any butcher’s offal pile.”
“So?” asked Seregil.
“I’m not certain yet. If I had some other type of traded item, one that would hold an impression, I might be able to tell you more.”
A heavy knock sounded at the door and Thero went to let Valerius in.
“You’ve found something?” the drysian asked, tossing his wet cloak over a bench.
“Alec got this from a boy who traded for it with some beggars called the raven folk.” Thero handed him the yellow stone.
Valerius held it up to the light, sniffed it, then licked it. Shaking his head, he handed it back. “What am I supposed to make of this?”
“You don’t sense anything from it?”
“Nothing. It’s not poisoned, if that’s what you were thinking. And I suppose if it were cursed or bespelled, I’d be hearing about it from you, Thero.”
“I sense nothing on it, but this kind of stone doesn’t retain impressions.”
“You mean we went through all that for nothing?” Alec exclaimed in dismay.
“No, Alec,” said Seregil. “We just need to get something else, and now we know how.”
Thero rested a hand on Alec’s shoulder. “This is getting desperate. I know what this means to you, but the two of you have made inroads in both cabals that can’t be taken over by anyone else.”
“What about Micum Cavish?” asked Valerius. “Maybe he could look into this raven business for you. He’s very good with the lower classes.”
Seregil arched a wry eyebrow. “Do youwant to tell Kari Cavish that we intend to send her husband into the south Ring?”
“You don’t think he can handle himself there?”
“Of course he can. But not alone. Bilairy’s Balls, Valerius, Iwouldn’t go in there alone, and I doubt you would, either.”
“Micum wouldn’t have to,” said Alec. “We could take turns during the day, helping Micum.”
“What about Malthus and his friends?” asked Thero. “And the reprisals?”
Seregil sighed. “The two sides may do the job for us.”
“Have they tried assassinating you lately?”
“Nothing so far. Perhaps word got back to them somehow that we aren’t so easy to kill. Or it was only Laneus sending them. With two failed attempts, I suspect that if the others come after us again, it won’t be by way of an assassin. Given what we’ve seen of the methods on both sides, it’s more likely to be some form of blackmail.”
Valerius snorted at that. “What could they do to you that way? It’s not like either of you has a pristine character.”
“I expect it would be something along the lines of another incriminating letter, like the one found with Laneus’s body.”
“At least Korathan knows the circumstances of that one,” said Thero.
Seregil frowned. “If too many more of those sorts of things come to light, he might just start to doubt all of us. Now, as for Micum, will you send one of your little messengers out to Watermead? Just tell him we have a job we need help with.”
Thero summoned a tiny spark of blue light into being and said softly, “Micum, we need you in Rhiminee. Watcher business.” With that, he flicked his finger and the little light flew across the room and disappeared through the wall by the door.
“What will you do now?” Thero asked.
“We’re close, I think. All we need to do is get our hands on something that will hold an impression for you to read and we’ll have them.”
Just then a frantic knocking came at the door, and what sounded like a scuffle.
“Let me in, Thero!” a woman’s ragged voice cried out over the softer sound of a man’s trying to reassure her. The lock rattled and the door banged wide, framing Thero’s servant Wethis supporting a rain-soaked woman. She wore no cloak over her mud-spattered gown, and her black hair was plastered to her face and shoulders. It wasn’t until she cried out
and rushed to throw herself sobbing into Seregil’s arms that Alec realized it was Eirual. Seregil caught her and they swayed together a moment before sinking to the floor in each other’s arms.
“Oh, no. No!” Alec gasped. Eirual was too hysterical to speak, but there was no doubt in anyone’s mind what had happened.
“The lady arrived on horseback, insisting that she see you and Lord Valerius at once, my lord,” Wethis explained.
“Fetch blankets and hot wine,” Thero told him. “Then find a nightdress and make up one of the guest beds.”
Thero cast a fire in the workroom fireplace. They wrapped Eirual in blankets and Seregil held her in his arms before it. He coaxed a little of the wine into her, as well, and Valerius pressed his hand to her brow and murmured a healing. The hysterical weeping slowly subsided into sobs and then to tearful sighs.
“Myrhichia is dead,” she managed at last. “She just closed her eyes and…”
Seregil stroked her wet hair. “I’m so sorry, my love. So very sorry.”
She looked up at the wizard and drysian. “Why couldn’t you help her?”
Thero knelt and took her cold hand between his. “We tried, Eirual, but we haven’t found the cause yet. I’m sorry.”
“My poor, darling girl.” Tears overflowed those sad violet eyes again and she sank against Seregil in a swoon.
With Alec’s help he got her downstairs to Thero’s guest chamber and into bed in the dry nightgown. He rested a hand on her forehead. “She’s feverish.”
“That’s not unusual after such a shock,” Valerius explained when they’d carried the news upstairs. “I’ll see to it personally that she’s properly cared for.”
“She can remain here, or I’ll have her taken home in a carriage, if she’d rather,” Thero told them.
“Maybe we should stay tonight, too,” Alec suggested.
“We might as well. Do you still have those spare clothes I left here, Thero?”
“Yes, of course. They’re in the chest in the apprentice chamber.”
Seregil and Alec stayed with Eirual, but though they slept entwined in each other’s arms again, there was still a cold space where Myrhichia should have been.
CHAPTER 33. In the Ravens' Wake
THE following morning Alec helped Seregil escort Eirual home in a hired carriage. Leaning silently on Seregil’s shoulder, holding both their hands, she seemed to have no more tears left, but her cheeks were pale, her eyes dull with grief.
Alec couldn’t think of any words of comfort to offer; his own sorrow was too raw, and he suspected Seregil felt the same, though he was concentrating on soothing Eirual.
The house was closed in mourning. Word had been given out that Myrhichia had died of fever.