“For one who charges so much, you certainly live in squalor,” observed Agis, handing over another silver.
“My information is not always of such value. Besides, I have a certain fondness for broy.” Nymos slipped the coin into his pouch, then said, “I overheard the high templar of the Balican fleet, Navarch Saanakal, escorting a Tyrian onto his flagship. He addressed the man as King Tithian.”
“You’ll have to do better for that last coin. I knew Tithian was aboard the fleet before I came here,” said Agis. “Did the king leave Balic so fast because he knew I was here?”
“You’re asking me to speculate,” Nymos said, raising his hand again. “That costs-”
“You haven’t earned my last silver yet,” Agis interrupted.
Nymos sighed. “I doubt he knew you were here,” he said. “The fleet left dock long before you reached the harbor-perhaps even before you entered the city.”
“That’s welcome news,” Agis said. “Now, what of the ship I need to hire?”
In reply, Nymos rubbed his mouth.
“With what I’ve paid you, you can buy your own broy,” Agis snapped.
The jozhal repeated the gesture twice more, both times slowly and deliberately.
“I’m not among those who wear the veil,” the noble said, finally recognizing the signal for what it was. “But I can tell you that in Tyr, the Veiled Alliance would not have charged three silvers for its help.”
“We are not in Tyr,” said Nymos. He sat down in the corner, using his cane to motion Agis to do the same. “But we hope someday to liberate Balic as you and Tithian did your city-which is why I’ve lived on this rooftop for the last decade. Nothing leaves or enters this port unless I hear about it.”
“So you have proven,” Agis said, still indignant about the fee Nymos had demanded of him. “Does that mean you’ll guide me to a reliable captain?”
“Yes, if you tell me what’s going on here,” Nymos said. “Andropinis is not the type to lend his fleet, especially to the king of the Free City.”
Agis shrugged. “I don’t know. All I can tell you is this: Tithian has more in common with Andropinis than with the hero legends make him out to be. The reason I’m following him is that he sent a tribe of slavers to attack a small village-one of Tyr’s allies.”
“Because I am short and blind, do not mistake me for a fool!” Nymos hissed. “Even in Balic, we know of Tithian’s deeds. He freed the slaves. He made a public marketplace of the gladiatorial stadium. He gave the king’s fields to the poor. He-”
“Yes, he did all those things,” interrupted Agis. “But in Tyr, the king’s power is not final. The Council of Advisors forced him to issue every one of those edicts. Rest assured that if the choice were his, Tyr would be a tyrant’s plaything.”
Nymos was quiet for a long time. Finally, he asked, “Why should I believe you?”
“Because if you know of Tithian’s reputation, you must also know mine. I wouldn’t say these things unless they were true.” When this didn’t seem to convince Nymos, he added, “From what I’ve said, you must realize that we can’t both be honest. To choose between us, ask yourself who’s sailing with Andropinis’s fleet.”
“Maybe he has a good reason for his actions,” the jozhal suggested, still reluctant to accept that the legendary king of Tyr was just as corrupt as any other ruler.
“You know that can’t be. King Andropinis would not help him if his cause were a worthy one,” said Agis. “Besides, there’s no justification for taking slaves. By breaking Tyr’s most sacred law, Tithian has become a fugitive from his own realm.”
“Not a fugitive,” Nymos said. “If your king were fleeing Tyr’s justice, he would have stayed in Balic, under our king’s protection. No, Tithian wants something with that fleet-and whatever it is, Andropinis wants him to have it.”
Agis frowned. “What could it be?”
Nymos shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “But the giants are fighting among themselves. By sending out his fleet, Andropinis has risked drawing Balic into the war. Whatever Tithian is after, it must be something of great importance.”
Agis rose to his feet. “Which is all the more reason I must hurry.”
Nymos also stood. “This concerns Balic as much as it does Tyr. I’m coming with you.”
“That isn’t necessary.”
“Perhaps not,” replied the jozhal. “But in ten years, this is the first good excuse I’ve had to get off this roof. You have no choice in the matter.”
“The trip will be too dangerous,” Agis objected.
“Don’t assume that I can’t take care of myself,” hissed Nymos. “Nothing makes me angrier.”
Agis sighed. “Very well. I wouldn’t want to upset you.”
“Then we have a bargain?”
“Yes,” the noble said. “But that means we’re partners. I’m not paying you another silver.”
“That’s just as well,” said Nymos, taking the noble’s arm. “You’ll need what’s left to hire the smuggler. There’s only one ship that can follow where the fleet’s going, and its captain drives a hard bargain.”
“Then you know Tithian’s destination?” Agis inquired.
“Of course. I heard him tell it to Navarch Saanakal,” the reptile replied. “It’s Lybdos, the Forbidden Isle.”
As they approached the ladder, Agis heard a woman speaking in the tavern below. “The Tyrian, where is he?” It was the voice of the sour-faced templar who had accosted him on the quay.
“Tyrian?” came the innkeeper’s reply. “There’s no Tyrian here. As you can see, we’re closed.”
“Don’t lie,” growled Salust’s coarse voice. “Marda sent him to see your blind pet.”
“Pet!” hissed Nymos, pulling Agis away from the opening. “I’ll show them who’s a pet!”
The reptile turned his hand toward the rooftop, preparing to cast a spell. The air beneath his palm began to quiver as a surge of energy, barely visible to the naked eye, rose into his hand. Although it appeared Nymos was drawing his magic from the ground beneath the building, Agis knew that was not the case. Most sorcerers could tap Athas’s life-force only through plant life. The power for the reptile’s magic came not from the land, but from the ratany hedge along the edge of the bay. The ground, and the building which sat upon it, were only the medium through which the energy passed.
From the room below, Agis heard the sound of an open hand striking the innkeeper’s face. “Where have you hidden the Tyrian?” demanded the templar.
“The roof,” replied the innkeeper. “Nymos sleeps up there.”
Nymos continued to draw the energy for his spell. Agis was surprised, for if the reptile took too much power, the ratany would wither and die. The ground holding the roots of the plants would become sterile, staying barren until the blood and sweat of hundreds of slaves restored the soil. Despite the length of time the jozhal spent drawing his power, however, Agis knew he would not destroy the hedge. The Veiled Alliance was dedicated to preventing such desecrations, and no member of the group would do such a thing lightly.
The top of the ladder jiggled as someone began to ascend. Nymos closed his hand, cutting the flow of magical energy into his body. He grabbed a pinch of silt and spit on it, then daubed the mixture onto the corner of the hole. At the same time, he uttered his incantation. The dab expanded into a sheet of orange clay and sealed the opening, drawing a muffled cry of surprise from below.
“That should hold them,” said Nymos, motioning for Agis to follow him.
The sorcerer led him to the other side of the roof, where a bone ring had been set into the wall, with one end of a coiled rope tied into it. As Nymos threw the cord over the side, a series of dull thumps sounded from the clay sheet blocking the opening to the roof.
“Always knew I’d have to leave in a hurry,” the jozhal said, tucking his cane under his arm. “We don’t have much time before they hack through my stopper.”
Agis grabbed Nymos’s arm and did not let him climb onto the rope. “One moment,” he whispered, peering into the cramped lane below.
The sorcerer’s rope hardly seemed necessary, for the alley was half-clogged by drifts of silt that would serve to cushion any fall. A single, hard-packed path ran down the street, winding its way past dust heaps, rubbish piles, and the few back entrances that determined shopkeepers kept clear. In one direction, the trail led deeper into the harbor district, a maze of lanes similar to the one below.