Geomancer

'Talk about?' he said dazedly.

'About who our friends are. And our enemies!'

F OUR

Irisis propped herself up on an elbow, inspecting the youth who lay dozing in post-coital bliss beside her. She was not attracted to Nish at all, though she had to admit he had been vigorous, not insensitive, and displayed an admirable willingness to learn what pleased her. That was more than could be said for her previous lover. Her interest had been stirred by what he'd said to Tiaan, her rival here since childhood.

Irisis ran a hand down his chest. Nish was the least hairy man she had ever seen. She liked that, and the way their bodies touched. He smiled in his sleep. She slid her hand lower, tangling her fingers in the downy hair and tugging. He snapped awake.

'Cryl-Nish, lover,' she whispered, her breath tickling his ear. She wanted him capable of thinking just one thing.

He rolled over, pressing himself against her. Irisis kept him away with her hip. He froze. There was a message in the movement, though clearly he had no idea what it was. Good.

Irisis inspected him, the sheet up around her throat. As if by accident she let it fall, revealing one heavy breast swaying above his face. His eye followed it and she knew she had him.

'We know what you want, Cryl-Nish.' He reached for her. She moved back, saying thoughtfully, 'I hear your father is no longer an examiner.'

'He is chief perquisitor for the entire Einunar region,' he said importantly.

'Oh?' Irisis was impressed but did not want to show it. She allowed him to bask in reflected glory for just a moment. 'But what about the scrutator?'

His chest deflated. She had caught him trying to make his father seem more important than he was. He looked down at the rumpled bed, perhaps thinking that she was trying to make a fool of him.

'Anyway,' Irisis waved a hand, knowing it made other parts of her oscillate delightfully, 'who cares about all that stuff? I'm much more interested in you.'

'Me? Why?' Nish was staring at her dark, puckered nipple. He would do anything to have more of her.

'I've always had my eye on you, Cryl-Nish.' That was a lie, of course. 'Tell me about yourself.'

He began on the story of his life, suitably edited to impress. He had not gone far when she interrupted. 'I know all that. But there's one thing I don't understand…'

'What's that?'

'Why you're here at all. You're not an artificer, Cryl-Nish.'

'I am!' He sat up angrily. 'And I've worked damned hard to become one.'

She pushed him down. 'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. Of course you're an artificer, and a good one too…'

'Don't patronise me!' Rolling out of bed, he reached for his trousers.

The sheet slid away, exposing the other breast and her artisan's pliance hanging between them. He swallowed. Putting out her arms, she pulled his face against her bosom. Nish resisted, but not for very long.

'What I meant to say was… Your father sent you here for another reason, surely? A more important one than becoming an artificer. You would be much more valuable as a scribe, an assistant to a merchant, or even, one day, secretary to the scrutator.'

'Yes,' he said thickly, intoxicated by her. He lacked the experience to put her body out of mind.

'What is it?' Irisis stroked his chest with two fingertips.

'I'm also a prober,' he said rashly. That meant a prentice inquisitor, lowest on the rank that ran prober, querist, perquisitor and, unthinkably powerful, scrutator.

'A spy!' she exclaimed, tucking the sheet across her front.

He reached for it, more confidently now. She allowed him to caress her through the fabric before drawing away again. He hastened to reassure her.

'Not a spy. A watcher, helping to maintain order. This is a vital manufactory…'

'Is it?' she said. 'But there are hundreds. Why is ours so important?' Irisis leaned forward.

'We build the best clankers, because we make the finest controllers of all.'

'Why is that?' she whispered, taking his hand and sliding it inside the sheet.

Nish's eyes bulged. Sweat broke out on his forehead. 'Because,' he said hoarsely, 'we have the most perfect hedrons and the best artisans anywhere. The scrutator wants to know why, to protect us from harm and make sure no one steals our secrets.'

'Someone has to be the best. And if we have the best crystals, it stands to reason we would make the best controllers…'

She looked at him sideways. He hesitated, knowing he'd said more than he should. She slipped her hand lower. He groaned.

'It's something about this place!' Nish burst out. 'Our artisans are much better than others, even when they use inferior, imported crystals. It must be the node here.'

She resumed her caresses. 'A lowly prober isn't sent to solve those kinds of problems. That's mancer's work.'

Nish looked chagrined, as if he'd revealed too much already.

'How long have you been a prober, Nish?'

He flushed. 'Just since my father's letter came, a week ago.'

'And perhaps if he knew what you've told me, you'd be a prober no longer.'

He went still. She considered him, head tilted so that the glossy hair stroked his shoulder. Her eyes ran up and down before settling about his middle. 'I know something else you may like.' She bent over him.

Now he moaned when she stopped prematurely. 'What are you really probing for, my little spy?'

'I can't tell you,' he gasped. 'A prober who talks is no prober at all, and likely to end up a slave. Or dead!'

'Or in the front rank of the army, which amounts to the same thing. Let's see if I can guess. This place is full of rumours but who can tell truth from falsehood? What does a prober do? He stays alert for people who aren't doing their job, those who have unfortunate ideas, and those who think someone else could run the world better than our leaders. None of that here, though. This is a well-run, happy manufactory.

'But there's one other thing that probers do.' She paused, gave him a long look, then bent her head again. He choked. She looked him fair in the eye. 'They hunt spies!'

The expression on his face almost made her laugh. He could not think straight. How she loved this power she had over men. Few women did these days.

'Please,' he whimpered.

She just stared at him. He put his hands around the back of her head, trying to pull her down. She went with him a little way then stopped, and when he tried to use his strength she bared her teeth. They were alarmingly sharp.

There was only one way to get what he wanted. Nish licked dry lips. 'There is a spy, father is sure of it. Twice now, secrets of clankers made here, and only here, have been discovered far away.'

'Who is the spy?'

'We don't know. Whoever he is, he's too clever.'

'Or she!'

'Or she,' he repeated.

'I'll help you. People will be wary of you, since your father is known to be perquisitor. But why would they suspect me?'

He looked uncertain.

'You're worried that I'll take the credit,' she said with a lazy smile. 'You need not – spycatcher is the last thing I want put to my name.'

'What do you want, Irisis?'

'What you offered Tiaan. What is mine by right. I want to be crafter, in charge of the entire controller works, and, one day, chanic of the province.'

'But you're only an artisan, and it's not long since you were prentice.'

'Crafter!' she said coldly. 'Then chanic.'

'Most artisans never become crafter, and few – very few crafters will rise to be chanic.'

'I have the talent for it; and the heritage. My father, my uncle, my grandfather, my great-grandmother and her mother before that, all were crafters or better. For four generations my family has held the position here. I'm going to be the fifth.'

'You're not old enough.'