Du Val snorted and tossed the pouch of anduilleaf into the air and caught it again. "And if you do that, what happens when this is gone?" He gave her a lopsided leer. His glance went to Coelin. "I notice that you don't have your usual escort with you, only someone who makes his living singing for coppers and ale. Seems to me that you're being careful not to let anyone know you've come to see me, so I think I'm fairly safe from your threats, Holder."
’Jenna," Coelin said behind her. "Let’s just leave. This man is a thief. I’ve seen the type of people who come in here."
No," Jenna answered. She turned back to du Val. "Fine, I’ll give you the five morceints, but you’ll also tell me something in return. There was
a man who came from this shop just before we arrived. What did he want?"
Du Val sniffed. "I’m not in the habit of talking about my customers," he answered. "I’d also think that’s something you’d be pleased to hear, Holder."
"His name is Ennis O’Deoradhain."
Du Val’s lips pursed and he waggled his head. "So you do know him. Interesting."
"Why was he here?" When du Val didn’t answer, Jenna’s hand went to the cloch, with du Val’s black gaze watching the movement. "The man’s a danger to me, du Val. I’ll do what I need to do to protect myself, even if means killing someone."
Du Val blinked, then cleared his throat and spat on the floor. "Brave words, Holder. I love the way you lift your chin and look down at me when you say that. It’s so haughty and practiced-you’ve obviously been watching the Riocha around you. I also believe that’s another bluff. I don’t think you’re capable of striking a man down without provocation. Not yet, anyway. Tell me, Holder, how did it feel, when you killed the as-sassin?"
"I didn’t kill him. He killed-" Jenna stopped. "How did you know that?"
"I hear the things that run through the underbelly of this city. That’s one of the reasons people come to me."
"Like O’Deoradhain."
Du Val just stared at her.
"He sent the assassin, didn’t he?"
The dwarf shook his head, like a parent disappointed in a child. "Holder, you have no concept of who your real enemies are. Or your real friends. That makes me wonder if you will be holding Lamh Shabhala for much longer." He held out his left hand palm up and waggled his fingers. "Four morceints," he said. "I’m giving you a
discount for not talking about O'Deoradhain."
Jenna untied a pouch from under her cloca and counted out the coins into du Val's hand. He gave her the pouch of anduilleaf, but held onto it for a moment as her fingers closed around it. "Holder," he said, his voice gravelly and low. "Please. You can't continue this. The leaf will consume you. It will change you. It's already begun."
Jenna snatched the bag away. "I won't be back," she told du Val. "If I need to, I'll find another source."
"You'll need to," du Val said somberly.
As they left the shop, Coelin stroked her hair and she stopped, leaning against him. "Coelin. ." she whispered. She lifted her face to him, unable to stop the tears now that she was outside. She wasn't sure why she was crying: fear, or du Val's harsh words, or simply the confusion that whirled in her mind. Coelin's thumb gently blotted the tears, and he kissed her eyelids, then her mouth.
"What's the matter, Jenna?" "Everything," she answered. "And nothing."
"Is it this O'Deoradhain? Are you scared of what he might do?"
She nodded. It was as good an answer as any.
"Then I'll find him," Coelin said. "I have my sources, too. If he's down here in Low Town, I can uncover him. I'll find out where he lives, find out what he's asking. And you can send the Ri's gardai after him." He smiled down at her. "See?" he said. "You do have friends you can trust." He kissed her once more, his hand moving across the mound of her breast, and she felt herself yearn for more. "Come with me now, Jenna," he whispered. "Let me love you."
"I want to, Coelin. I want to so much."
"But. .?"
She opened her mind to the cloch, feeling the city around her with its power: her gardai were moving through the square, searching for her. One was close by, moving toward Cat's Alley. "I've been away too long already. I have to go back."
"Ah." The word held a bitterness in its tone. He
"Coelin, it's not that," she protested. "I do want you. I miss you every day."
"Then when, Jenna? When will we be together?"
"When you come to sing next. Afterward. I'll make arrangements."
He smiled at her and kissed her again. She pulled him close, not want-ing to let go yet forcing herself to push him away. She nodded toward the far end of the lane. "They're coming for me now," she said.
"Go that way."
"Jenna. ."
"Hush," she said. "Don't say anymore. Go. Find O'Deoradhain for me. We'll be together soon. I promise."
He took a step backward, still looking at her, then turned. She watched him go, then turned herself and walked toward Low Town Market Square.
Chapter 22: Proposals
THE mage-lights came that night and Jenna caught their power, crying out in mingled longing and agony. Afterward, the anduilleaf dulled only the worst of the pain, and, following a troubled sleep, she took it again early in the morning. The arm was still throbbing, a steady pulsing mirrored by a nauseous headache as she and Aoife moved toward her apartment from the common room, where she'd breakfasted with the Ban-rion.
"Holder, if you have a moment. .?"
Nevan O Liathain called to Jenna as she passed the door of his apart-ments. She stopped, closing her eyes before glancing inside as a wave of pain swept over her: the Ri Ard's son was standing near the fireplace. Rich, dark hangings adorned the walls, gleaming with bright colors; a woven carpet softened the varnished wood of the floor; the tables and chair were carved and expensive, unlike anything she’d seen in the keep. She suspected that most of the furnishings had traveled with O Liathain from Dun Laoghaire. O Liathain looked as rich and as handsome as his surroundings, his raven-black hair oiled, those strange, light blue eyes regarding her.
Jenna saw no way to politely decline. She nodded to Aoife and went to the doorway. "Good morning, Tanaise Rig. Of what service can I be to you?"
O Liathain glanced significantly at Aoife, and Jenna waved to the ser-vant. "Wait in the hall for me," she said. "I won’t be but a few minutes." She hoped that was true; she didn’t know how much longer she could hear the headache, and she longed for another cup of the leaf. Aoife curtsied and continued down the hall; Jenna took a step inside the apartment.
"The door, please, Holder," O Liathain said. "Too many ears and eyes " Jenna pulled the door to, and O Liathain took a few steps toward her stopping an arm’s reach away. He moved with the ease of a dancer or a well-trained fighter. "This is most improper, I know," he said. "Yet I would speak with you privately, without curious ears listening." Another step She could see his lips twist upward in a momentary smile. "I would like to suggest something to you that would be to our mutual advantage."
"And what would that be, Tanaise Rig?"
Another vanishing smile, gone like frost under a spring’s sun. "I will forgo delicacy here, Holder," he answered. "Let me be blunt. It’s come to my attention that your mam is carrying Tiarna Mac Ard’s child. No, you needn’t protest or try to deny it-we both know it’s true. I also know that for the moment Padraic is unlikely to legitimize the child or his relation-ship with your mam. Yet if he did so, if he took your mam to wife, and acknowledged you as his own daughter as well. . well, then that would make you a Riocha, wouldn’t it?"
Jenna sniffed. "I am evidently not quite so awed by that possibility as you, Tanaise Rig. While I would like to see the Tiarna Mac Ard acknowl-edge my mam and his child by her, if that’s the case, I have no interest in being named his daughter."