Cery looked at Forlie and shrugged. “Of course I’ll help her.”
“You’ll want to take some extra precautions yourself,” Regin added.
Cery smiled at the man’s understatement. He’s far more likely to seek revenge on me for the capture of his mother than on Forlie. Maybe I should see if another Thief will take care of her for me. Someone who doesn’t like Skellin...
“There’s more,” Sonea said. “Lorandra is – was – the Thief Hunter. Skellin sent her out to kill off his rivals. He had big plans for himself. He wanted to become king of the underworld. Was going to use roet to keep everyone – even the Guild – in line.”
When Cery thought about how powerful Skellin had already become, that did not seem as impossible as it sounded. How many people did he already have control over? I’m going to have to be very careful who I choose to trade with now.
“Do you know if Lorandra killed Cery’s family?” Anyi asked.
Cery felt his heart shrink. He glanced at his daughter, appreciating her asking the question to save him from having to, but dreading the answer.
Sonea grimaced. “I don’t know. I wasn’t the one who read her mind, and I would have to have asked publicly for Kallen to find out.”
Which would have revealed more about me than I’d have liked.
“I’ll try to find out,” she promised. “Even if she didn’t kill them, if her part was only to break into your hideout using magic, she’ll know who did. Or who ordered it.”
“Skellin most likely,” Regin said. “Unless she did occasional work on the side for other customers.”
“At least we know Skellin can’t have been the actual killer,” Gol said. “He was talking with Cery at the time.”
Anyi made a small humming noise. “It doesn’t make sense. Why send someone to kill another Thief’s family at the same time as inviting them to become an ally?”
They all fell silent for a long moment, frowning in thought.
“Maybe Lorandra knows,” Gol suggested.
Cery shook his head, puzzled. “Well, I do know one thing for sure. We’ve got another rogue to catch.”
“If he’s still in Kyralia,” Regin said.
“Oh, he’s still here,” Cery assured them. “He hasn’t spent all that time and effort on his little empire to scamper off somewhere else. No, there are people here, rich and poor, who’ll fall over themselves to help him, some because they have to, many because they’ll benefit from it. He won’t have that anywhere else.”
Sonea nodded. “His influence over the city is already dangerously strong, but I suspect if he’s removed his empire will fall. We have to find him.” She looked at Cery. “Will you help us again?”
He nodded. “Wouldn’t want to miss the fun.”
She smiled, then stood up. Regin followed suit. “We must get back to the Guild. Thank you for taking care of Forlie and her family.”
Cery looked at the woman, who was watching him expectantly. “I’ll find somewhere safe for you all. Where is their father?” Both women scowled so fiercely Cery couldn’t help but laugh. “Never mind about that then.” He turned back to Sonea and ushered her to the door. “I bet you attracted a lot of attention on the way here.”
She laughed ruefully. “Yes. And the customers downstairs will be talking about it for months.”
“Might not be a bad thing,” Regin said, following her out of the door. “It will remind people who might be considering helping Skellin that you have powerful friends.”
“Well, it wouldn’t hurt if they thought you were still here. It will give us time to make plans before we leave. The more private way out goes through the kitchen and the side door.”
“We’ll go that way, then. Thanks for your help,” Sonea said. “And take care of yourselves.”
“I always do,” he called after them, as they strode down the corridor to the stairs. Closing the door, he turned back to regard the remaining occupants of the room. Looking at the children made his heart ache, and he pushed painful memories away. “Gol, take Forlie’s family downstairs and see if they’re hungry.”
“Right,” Gol replied. He beckoned, and they followed him out of the room. Cery returned to his chair and let out a sigh.
He looked at Anyi. She was frowning. It was not a worried frown, but a puzzled one.
“What is it?” he asked.
She looked at him, then away again. “Remember that magician at the Guild who was dressed the same as Sonea.”
“Yes. Black Magician Kallen.”
“He looked familiar. I didn’t recognise him at first because of the robes.”
“You’ve seen him without robes on?”
She looked up at him and laughed. “Not in the way you just put it. I didn’t get much of a look at what he was wearing the time I saw him.”
“What was he doing?” he asked.
A crease appeared between her brows, then her forehead smoothed and her mouth opened in a circle of revelation. “Ah! That’s it. I went with my friend one day to get rot. Not for me, of course.” Her eyes flicked up to his, serious and concerned. “In the middle of the dealing a carriage pulled up. The man inside wanted rot, and didn’t want to wait. I got a look at his face.”
“Kallen?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“Oh, yes.” Her eyes twinkled. “I take special note of anyone who looks like they might be doing something they shouldn’t.”
Cery snorted. “That’d be nearly everyone in the city.”
She grinned. “And in particular if it looks like what I learn about them might be useful some time,” she amended. “Do you think Sonea would be interested? Lots of magicians take rot, I’ve heard.”
“Oh, I think she’ll find this interesting,” Cery told her. “I think she’ll find this very interesting. It’ll be a good excuse to sneak into her hospice again. Or maybe I’ll wait until I have something useful to tell her about Skellin.” He looked at Anyi and grimaced. “We’re going to have to be real careful who we trust. Skellin has a lot of friends, and I doubt I’m one of them now. We’ve got to help find him without getting ourselves caught. Things are going to get wild.”
Anyi nodded, then smiled and rolled her eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you? Nobody says things like ‘wild’ any more.”
Epilogue
With a final push of magic, Lorkin swept the last of the dust, hair, food scraps and unidentifiable particles into a small pile, then went to fetch a basket to dump it in.
A few weeks had passed since he’d taken up residence in the men’s room. It was a large room, filled with rows of narrow beds. Most were empty now, but from the possessions tucked under their frames it was clear nearly all had regular occupants. Though he knew most of the regulars’ names, there were a few who stayed for three or four days then disappeared for a few more that he’d not yet been introduced to.
“These beds are for men who don’t want to stay with their family any more, and who haven’t paired with a woman,” Vytra had told him. “There isn’t space for everyone to have their own room.”
“Are there women’s rooms?” Lorkin had asked.
“Sort of.” She had shrugged. “Sometimes friends and sisters share rooms.”
At first he’d been a novelty to the male Traitors, subjected to plenty of questions about Kyralia, how he had come to Sanctuary, and what he planned to do there. The latter he could not answer to their satisfaction. He could hardly tell them about his interest in Tyvara, and they scoffed at his plans to negotiate links between their people and the Allied Lands.