“She’ll be fine,” he said. “She just has to go a few blocks, and she’ll have Hanner with her, and then they’ll both be safe at my house.”
“You really have a house in the New City?”
“I really do. I’ve had it since you were a baby.”
“That’s where you go when you aren’t here and don’t take us with you?”
“Usually, yes.”
“So Hanner and Alris will live there from now on?”
Faran put down the reports. “I certainly hope not,” he said. “I expect Lord Azrad will come to his senses once he’s had some sleep and daylight has brightened the World, and then Hanner and Alris will come back here where they belong, and my house will be private again.”
“But now they’ll know where it is.”
Faran sighed. “Nerra, there are scores of people in this city who know where it is. Anyone who really wants to know could find out easily enough. I don’t think anyone reallycares, though.”
“Then why didn’t you ever tellus about it?”
“Because it wasn’t any of your concern.”
“But...”
Faran had had enough of her questions-and he hadnot had enough sleep. His temper gave out, and he glared at her as he cut her off.
“Go to sleep, Nerra,” he said. “If you reallymust ask me impertinent questions, do it in the morning.” He got to his feet and marched into his bedroom.
Nerra watched him go, then looked around, realizing that she was alone in the room.
And she would be alone in her bedroom, with Alris out of the Palace. She would be alone, and these mad magicians, or demons in human guise or whatever they were, were roaming the streets and skies. The city guard was out in force, keeping the plaza clear-but what could they do against a demon? What good would they be if a mad magician flew across the canal to Nerra’s bedroom window?
She shuddered at the thought-but she didn’t have much choice. Reluctantly, she wandered back to her own bed, climbed in, closed the curtains, and buried herself under the coverlet, certain she would get no more sleep that night.
Ten minutes later she was snoring quietly.
Chapter Eleven
Hanner stood in the shadows of Coronet Street and looked up at the looming black facade beyond the garden wall.
“It’s the entire house?” he asked.
“That’s what he said,” Alris replied.
Hanner grimaced. He should have known, he told himself. Fitting his entire party-himself, his sister, his fifteen recruits, and his four prisoners-would not be a problem. It was entirely possible there would even be enough beds for each to sleep alone. Lord Faran’s unofficial residence stood four stories high, and the garden wall extended along Coronet Street from High Street almost to the corner of Merchant Street.
“Where’s the gate?” one of the warlocks asked.
“Who needs a gate?” Rudhira asked, flying over the wall.
“Someof us do,” Yorn replied grumpily. “It’s on High Street,” Alris said, pointing.
They trudged on up Coronet Street, and around the corner onto High Street. The garden wall that had hidden the ground floor from them ended a few feet from the corner, to be replaced by an iron fence topped with spikes. Peering between the bars of the fence Hanner could see broad, many-paned windows in a brick and black stone wall just the other side of a dooryard perhaps five or six feet wide. Rudhira was in the dooryard, moving quickly toward the front door, but Manner took a moment to look the place over.
All the windows were dark, and no torches or lanterns hung at the entrance, but that was hardly a surprise.
An elegant iron gate guarded the entrance, a dozen yards from the end of the garden wall. To Manner’s surprise it wasn’t locked; it swung open at his touch, silently, without the slightest creak or rattle. Hanner stepped through into the dooryard to find Rudhira standing by the door, tapping her foot impatiently.
“I could have opened this myself,” she said.
“Without breaking it?” Hanner asked, curious about just what warlockry could and couldn’t do.
“Ithink so-but I’m not sure, and you’ve got the key, so I waited.”
“Thank you,” Hanner said. Then it registered that no one was opening the door, and he turned. Alris was standing just behind him, the key in her hand, watching Rudhira warily and not approaching the door.
“I’ll do it, Alris,” he said, taking the key from her. He found the lock, and a moment later the door swung open.
The hallway beyond was dark, of course. Hanner stepped in and beckoned to the others, then stood still for a moment to let his eyes adjust.
A red glow appeared to one side, dimly illuminating the hall. Hanner turned, startled, and found Rudhira standing beside him, one hand raised-and that hand was glowing.
By that dull red light Hanner could see a look of intense concentration on Rudhira’s face. Her lips parted to reveal tightly clenched teeth as she grimaced and sucked in air.
The glow brightened from red to orange-and then brightened further, but stayed orange. Rudhira let out her breath in a long, ragged sigh and relaxed; the glow steadied.
Hanner quickly turned his attention to their surroundings and spotted a candle on a table by the door. “Does anyone have tinder?” he asked, pointing. “We don’t want to wear Rudhira out.”
Rudhira followed his finger and saw the candle. “I might be able to light it,” she said, starting to lower her glowing hand.
“No, don’t strain yourself,” Hanner said. Alris was already pulling a tinderbox from her purse, and a moment later the candle flared to life.
“You can relax now,” Hanner told Rudhira, nodding at her still-glowing hand as he picked up the candle. “It’s no trouble,” she said, but the glow blinked out.
“It looked like an effort,” Hanner said.
“Only at first, when I tried to see how to do it,” Rudhira said. “Once I started, it got easier. That’s how this magic always seems to work-the more you use it, the easier it is. The hard part is in understanding how to do something new.”
“You seem to be doing well at that,” Hanner said. “I haven’t seen anyone else make anything glow. Mostly they just seem to throw things around.” As he spoke he was looking around at the broad hallway.
As he would have expected from Uncle Faran, it was magnificent, but tasteful. It was perhaps fifteen feet across, with a twelve-foot ceiling, and he couldn’t see the far end by the single candle’s light. The walls were papered in gold and white above polished dark wood wainscoting, broken by ornately modeled plaster and gilt pilasters. Gleaming brass sconces were spaced evenly between the columns, except where arched doorways opened into other rooms. A splendid staircase, dark wood carpeted in red, rose ahead of Hanner and his party. To the left an archway opened into a darkened parlor; to the right was a closed door, painted white and trimmed with gilt.
“May a hundred gods bless me,” Zarek muttered as he looked at this opulence.
“Well, it’s a roof over our heads,” Hanner said wryly. He turned and beckoned everyone inside-some were still hesitating on the front walk. “Come in, all of you!” he said.
He counted off the party. Rudhira and Alris had come in with him; Zarek and Yorn were close behind. He still hadn’t learned the names of all the others, but he counted the four prisoners and the other twelve warlocks, and once they were all inside he stepped past them all to take a final look outside-he didn’t think he had missed anyone, but he wanted to be sure.
An elderly man was walking slowly past and glanced at him, but said nothing. Other than that the street was empty; satisfied, Hanner closed and locked the door.