Riltana said, “Love to. Demascus and Chant can handle things here without me. I can’t wait to get out of this stink hole.”
“Wonderful,” Arathane said. “We’ll be back within two hours, no more.” She and Riltana left, the queen cradling the broken staff as if it was an infant.
Chant fidgeted.
“What’s wrong?” asked Demascus.
“I thought Jaul would be waiting for us, is all.”
Right. Chant’s son said he’d stay behind at the portal mouth. But the kid was nowhere to be seen. “Do you think he’s all right?”
Chant rubbed his hands, then sighed. “Yeah, I do think he’s all right. I just hoped he’d wait, like he said. But really, it’s more like him to get bored and head back to the Den of Games. Raneger has that boy brainwashed.” The pawnbroker looked at his boots.
Demascus could only nod. No matter how useful Jaul had earlier proved while they’d been out on the island, it seemed he would continue to be a trial to his father.
Chant shook his head as if to clear it. “Anyhow, that’s the second time you’ve come to the aid of the Throne of Majesty. That sort of thing can’t hurt your standing with the queen.”
Demascus nodded, unable to hold back a grin. “But before you get too happy imagining what royal rewards might await, I promised the ghost I’d relay a message.”
Demascus’s face froze. “What?”
“She said that if you survived this escapade, you were to come by the Copperhead and ask for her.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I wouldn’t joke about something like this. You know that.”
“Sorry. I just … you caught me off-guard. So, the Copperhead? What’s that?”
The pawnbroker just shrugged.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
THE CITY OF AIRSPUR, AKANUL
22 LEAFFALL, THE YEAR OF THE AGELESS ONE (1479 DR)
Fragrant smoke greeted Demascus as he entered the Copperhead. He’d learned it was a tavern that specialized in tabac, not ale. Either way, it seemed like an odd place for a ghost to haunt.
He wondered if his friends had misunderstood Madri.
He scanned the hazy chamber. Scents of apple, cedar, jasmine, and tabac swirled above the gurgle of bubbling water. Relaxed expressions softened the faces of the patrons. It was all somehow familiar to Demascus. As if he’d been here before. Or someplace remarkably similar. Madri, however, wasn’t here.
“Sir?” said a young earthsoul. “If you step over here, I can fit you with a pipe. Have you ever-”
“I’m looking for a woman. A human. Her name is Madri,” said Demascus.
The server blinked as if seeing the deva for the first time. “I have a message for someone answering to your description.”
“What?” Demascus felt his face grow warm.
The server held up a placating finger, then pointed to an empty table along the wall. “Only this-if someone fitting your description shows up, that you should have a seat and wait right there.”
“For how long?”
“Until Madri shows up.”
“Do you know her?” said Demascus, stepping closer.
The server’s eyes widened and his hands went up. Demascus realized he’d raised his voice. But he didn’t much care.
“Answer me,” he said.
“I don’t! She … she comes here sometimes! Sort of just shows up, you know? Last time I saw her, she gave me this message. That’s all!”
“When did she give it to you?”
“Two days ago. I haven’t seen her since. I swear!”
“I believe you. I just … haven’t seen my friend for a while.”
The server looked at him, then flicked his gaze to the sword scabbards on the deva’s belt. The kid was worried Demascus was going to draw on him. Great. He’d just guaranteed himself terrible service henceforward at the Copperhead. He took a seat where the server indicated and waited.
No one came by to offer him a water pipe.
Three days had passed since Chant had relayed Madri’s message. Sealing the portal by collapsing the cave had come off without a hitch, thanks to the skills of a cadre of earthsoul sappers. Demascus was pretty sure no drow or other fell influence had seeped through before it was shut. Hopefully for good.
Arathane had explained that the arambarium relic had been remanded to a vault beneath Airspur Palace. When asked if anyone in the queen’s court had managed to convert it back to its original shape, the monarch had replied that they were still working on it.
Then Arathane had handed Riltana a scroll. She said it was a copy of what she’d sent to a mutual friend in High Imaskar. Riltana broke the seal and visually devoured the contents in moments. Then she hugged the queen.
Riltana later joked that the peacemaker bodyguards had nearly shat themselves upon witnessing such physical familiarity with Her Royal Highness by someone they’d been told was a “messenger.”
Of course the Stewards had not launched a preemptive attack on Tymanther. The queen returned from the Demonweb in time to quiet the drumbeat to war with evidence of Akanul’s true enemy in hand.
The next day, Chant had engaged his network of secret gatherers to locate the Copperhead. Airspur was a large city. If you didn’t already know an establishment, a name by itself was just the first clue to tracking it down.
And just what was the situation? Madri had seemed intent on making him pay for what he’d done to her. But when she had the chance to let this incarnation die in the mine collapse, she’d saved him. He needed to find out why. He also needed to uncover her connection to Kalkan, how she’d come back from death, and what she intended to do with the Whispering Child called the Necromancer.
“I see you’ve managed to scare the waitstaff witless.”
Demascus jumped. “Madri!”
“Last time I checked.” She sat down across from him. She hadn’t been in the room a moment earlier, but she didn’t look the least bit like a ghost.
“I got your message,” he finally managed.
She nodded. “Remember the last time we were in a water pipe lounge, Demascus?”
“Um, not really.”
She frowned.
“But seeing you here, Madri, and smelling the tabac-it’s like a word on the tip of my tongue that I can’t quite place.”
“You might be telling the truth. You might be lying. I expect it’s the latter, based on how things ended for me back in Halruaa.”
Demascus cast his gaze down at the table. They’d been through all this under the rock fall. Madri wasn’t inclined to believe he was different. Still …
“Then why’d you save me?” he asked. “You could’ve had your revenge. A life for a life.”
Madri smiled for the first time. His breath caught. He remembered this woman, if only in flashes and moments. And he had loved her.
“It wouldn’t have been my revenge, would it? I wasn’t the one who tried to crush you under an island.”
“So you saved me, just so you could personally kill me?”
She smirked, then shook her head. “No, I’m joking. The old you would have gotten it. Maybe you are telling the truth, Demascus.”
“I swear by all the gods of light and shadow, I’m not the same person who murdered you. I could never do that.”
Madri stared at him. Demascus measured the time in uneasy heartbeats. What was she thinking? Probably that he was a no-good lying sack of rat feces. Or that-
“All right, Demascus.”
“All right? Does that mean you believe me?”
“Let’s just say … I’m willing to peel back my hate enough to try and believe you. Though your words are not the reason why I’m willing to give you even this much of a chance. Come with me?” She stood up. “I’ve got something to show you.”
Madri made for the exit. Demascus clambered to his feet.
“Something to show me?” he repeated stupidly.
“It’s back at my place. I think you’ll find it … illuminating. I did.” Madri walked out. The large oaken door slammed in his face.