There had been too many cases of arson in the city, when a property owner could not be rid of a house but wished to be relieved of paying the tax upon it, her edict stated. Therefore, unless it could be proved that a fire was completely accidental, when a house burned the owner must pay the same sales tax upon it that she would if she had sold it.
There would be no one who would connect this edict with Xylina-for how could Adria have known that Xylina's house had burned? And since it would be impossible to prove that the fire was accidental, Xylina's financial ruin would be assured.
For the first time since she had seen Xylina win her woman-trial, Adria felt peace descend on her soul. She undressed quickly, dropping the garments she had worn into the privy, and took a quick bath to remove the last traces of smoke. She then allowed herself to seek her bed and fall into a deep and dreamless sleep.
Morning came all too soon, and with it, the report of fire in the city. As she had seen for herself, Xylina's house was a total loss. She allowed herself a look of a concern; ascertained that there was no other damage, and expressed her pleasure at the girl's escape, then went on to other reports, as if Xylina was no more to her than any other young Mazonite woman.
Inside, however, she gloated. The girl must be frantic by now, trying to figure a way out of her predicament. Soon she would realize that there was no way out-except bankruptcy and exile. Would she kill herself, rather than suffer such a fate? Adria could hardly wait to hear what the tax-collector had to say.
But Ware arrived at the palace just before she received the report of her tax-collector. He presented himself as if it were just another day, as if he had no particular business in mind other than to amuse her. But his eyes were dark with secrets, and when she granted him audience and permitted him to listen to the reports of her various officials-including the tax-collector-he did so with an odd expression. His impassivity was gone; there was something else there in its place. Something about this situation evidently interested him, although he had seldom shown much interest in the doings of the Mazonites before this. Finally she dismissed her officials, and faced him alone.
That was when he dared to ask her if she knew what she was doing.
"I know exactly what I'm doing," she told him forcefully. "If I cannot remove her in one way, I must remove her in another. There has never been a conjurer to match me since I took the throne, and I do not intend to let anyone know that Xylina could be that match."
In sober truth-though she would never tell him that- she feared that the girl was already more than her match. If it came to a challenge today, Adria was afraid there was a very real possibility that she, and not Xylina, would lose.
Ware shook his darkly handsome head. "I fear that you have aroused more than you guess, my lady," he said, his melodious voice making pleasant the unpleasant words.
"This girl is no tamer than her mother was. If ever she finds out who is behind all this, you will have a challenge on your hands."
She looked into his eyes, and quickly looked away. One thing she definitely read there: he knew very well that she feared Xylina's youth and strength, and the powers of magic the girl commanded.
Unspoken, the thought hung between them:That would be a challenge you might not survive .
"Let me be the judge of that," the Queen replied waspishly. "You are only an inhuman thing; what can you know of human nature? This girl is nothing: naive, ignorant, easily fooled. She will have no notion that it is not a curse that moves against her, but my hand. How could she? How could she ever discover what has been behind her misfortune?"
"I do not speak only of this girl, but of your other subjects, my lady," Ware replied evenly. She flushed, then paled with mingled anger and dismay. He was right-and she hated him for being right. "What you do to her is against your own laws. You should either challenge her openly, or let her be. If your people discover what you are doing, they will call you to account for it."
"They will not," Adria said, with a carelessness she in no way felt. And a thin thread of chill rose along her backbone, for the demon had accurately predicted the actions of her people, if they learned what she had been doing. If ever the other Mazonites discovered how she had misused her power, they could not only call her to account for her actions, they could condemn her for them. They could force her exile, sending her off the throne, and into the wilds beyond the borders of Mazonia.
But they would not find out, for there was no one to tell them. The women she had hired to ambush Xylina were not aware that it had been the Queen who had hired diem. She had gone in disguise, had never given her name, and had paid in common coin. She had found the women in the first place by roundabout means, and had met them in low taverns where no one knew what the Queen looked like. Only her litter-bearers knew what she had done last night, and they were mute slaves who could neither speak nor write. No one else, human or female, was aware of what she had done and where she had gone. Only Ware himself, who was bound to her service by the most terrible of oaths. He could not break those oaths to betray her. Only she could release him from them.
No, she should be safe enough.
"Within the week, the girl will either be dead or in such dire straits she will flee into exile on her own," Adria announced loftily. "You and l are the only ones who know the hand responsible for her misfortune. Gossip in the marketplace says that it is entirely the action of that curse which she dared to flaunt. I think we are safe enough."
"We," she said, to remind him that he was a party to this, and that if she suffered for it, so should he. There were ways to punish demons, to confine them forever. That was why they swore their oaths to the Queen for the freedom to walk the streets openly-to be free of those punishments. The Queen knew those magics, and if Ware betrayed her, she would use them on him.
"And if the girl finds a rescuer?" Ware asked, his eyes curiously bright, strange dreams dancing behind them. She kept glancing at those eyes, caught by the life and light in them. Ware had never looked this alert before in all the time he had served her. He had always seemed to be at one remove from the rest of the world-as if he walked in a waking dream. Now the dreamer seemed to be stirring....
"She will not," the Queen replied, with a laugh. That was one thing she was certain of. While there were women who had more than enough wealth to come to Xylina's rescue with a gift or a loan, why would they bother? They had not achieved that wealth by giving it or lending it to foolish young girls. "No one would be so foolish as to make a loan on such little security as she possesses-one slave, who on her death must be put to death, unless she has sold or traded him before that date. No, I think not." Her eyes hardened. "And you would do well to recall that she is our enemy, and must be disposed of."
Suddenly the demon's eyes lost all their light, and became opaque and colorless. "Very well, my lady," Ware said, his tone curiously flat and without emphasis. "I seek only to protect your reputation, as the oaths I swore require me to do. If you will not act according to my advice, then the conditions of that oath have been satisfied."
She stared at him for a moment, then turned away and ignored him. She rang for her majordomo, and signaled for the first petitioner of the day to be allowed in to see her.
It turned out to be a very wealthy merchant, an important supporter, and Adria spent some time with the woman, untangling a complicated legal problem to their mutual satisfaction. When she looked around, Ware had absented himself.