“I’m surprised his mother accepts this arrangement.”
“She is understandably upset – but not about to march into Sachaka to fetch him home, I assure you.”
The king smiled. “A pity he did not keep the ring.”
“I expect he did not want to risk that the Traitors would search him and find it.”
The king shifted in his seat. “I want you to endeavour to establish a safe form of communication with him, Ambassador Dannyl.”
Dannyl nodded. “I’ll do what I can.”
“I know you will. I will delay you no longer.” The king rose and, as Dannyl stood up, indicated Dannyl should walk beside him as they headed toward the door. “I regret that this situation occurred at all. We should have anticipated that the Traitors might turn their attention to the Guild at some point. But I am glad your assistant is alive and in no immediate danger.”
“Thank you, your majesty. I am, too.”
They reached the door and stepped into the corridor.
“How is your new assistant, Lady Merria, settling in?”
Dannyl smiled grimly. “Well, and adapting quickly.” She’s already bored with the lack of work to do, Dannyl wanted to add. Perhaps … perhaps I can ask her to consider how we might contact Lorkin.
The king shook his head. “I’d have advised strongly against a woman as your assistant, since she will have difficulty interacting with Sachakan men, but I would once have also reasoned that a woman would be a more likely target for the Traitors, and I have been proven wrong in that. I may be wrong about Lady Merria’s success here, too.”
“Your majesty is undoubtedly right in all other matters and I will always trust his wisdom, especially on Sachakan matters. That is why I am giving her work that does not require her to deal with Sachakan men.”
The king chuckled. “You are a smart man.” He stopped at the door to the throne room, gesturing for Dannyl to continue inside alone. “Goodbye, Ambassador.”
“As always, an honour and pleasure to meet you, your majesty.” Dannyl bowed. As the king walked away he turned and re-entered the great hall.
Well, at least I now have something to give Merria to do. Though giving her an impossible task like finding a way to contact Lorkin without using the Traitors seems a bit cruel. But it’s not as if she is interested in my research, and I can’t ask her to venture out alone into an Ashaki’s personal library to examine books for me anyway.
It wasn’t as if he’d had any invitations to any libraries himself lately, either. As far as his research was concerned, he was getting nowhere at all.
Sonea shifted the basket of bed sheets to her other hip, then tugged the hood of her cloak further down over her face. Though it was raining, and there was a chill to the air that warned of harsher days ahead, she was thoroughly enjoying herself. Maybe roaming the city in disguise would grow tiresome eventually, but for now she relished the freedom it gave her.
Not far from the hospice was a cleaner’s shop that tackled most of the washing for the hospice. It had been a long time since she’d made that arrangement with the owner, and the shop had changed hands a few times since then. The hospice helpers always delivered the laundry, so there was little chance anyone at the cleaner’s shop would recognise her – unless, of course, she had treated them or their family.
She ducked in through the open door and dropped off the basket quickly. There was no need to talk to anyone, and the staff were used to hospice workers being in a hurry. Next door was a sweet shop, and Sonea slipped through the door. She bought a bag of pachi fruit drops and spoke a code word. The middle-aged woman behind the counter waved her toward a door into a narrow passage.
Within a few steps she was knocking at another door. The number of taps had been agreed to weeks ago. A voice called out a code word and she pushed through into a small room bisected by a narrow desk.
“Greetings.” A barrel-chested man rose and bowed to her as best he could in the small space. “They are waiting for you.”
Sonea nodded and moved to a side door – she had to sidestep around the desk to reach it. Unlocking it with magic, she moved into a stairwell and locked the door behind her, adding a magical barrier stretched across the frame as an extra precaution.
The man in the small room was an employee of Cery’s. As far as Sonea could tell, he was the husband of the sweet shop woman, and arranged debt collection. Descending the short staircase, Sonea entered a room not much bigger than the one above, furnished with only two chairs. Cery was sitting in one, but neither Gol nor Anyi had taken the other.
Pushing back her hood, Sonea smiled at her old friend and his bodyguards.
“Cery. Gol. Anyi. How are you all? What are you grinning at, Cery?”
Cery chuckled. “It’s always nice to see you in something other than those black robes.”
She ignored him and looked at Anyi and Gol. Both shrugged. They looked a little cold. The room was definitely chilly. She drew some magic and channelled it out as heat. Both bodyguards frowned, looked around, then turned to regard Sonea thoughtfully. Sonea smiled and sat down.
“I hope you’ve had some ideas on how to lure Skellin into revealing how far from Imardin he is,” she said, looking at Cery. “Because I haven’t.”
He shook his head. “None that don’t rely on people I can’t trust, or that will risk too many lives. I’ve lost too many allies. Even those that still deal with me are taking advantage of my problems. Gol has had several offers of employment.”
“Me, too,” Anyi said. “Just this afternoon. In fact, it gave me an idea.”
All turned to regard her. Cery’s daughter looked too young to be a bodyguard. But then, these days Sonea felt most graduating novices looked too young to be considered responsible adults.
“Go on,” Cery said.
“What if I took up one of the offers?” Anyi said, her eyes gleaming. “What if I pretended to be fed up with working for you, and decided I was never going to get anywhere working for the least powerful Thief in the city? I could take a job and spy for you.”
Cery stared at his daughter. His face did not appear to move, but Sonea saw subtle shifts in his expression: horror, fear, caution, speculation, guilt.
“They’d never trust you enough to put you anywhere you’d learn something useful,” he told Anyi.
Why doesn’t he just say “no”, Sonea wondered. But as Gol glanced at Cery his expression was full of warning. He knows Cery has to tread carefully. Perhaps if Cery blocks Anyi outright she’ll be more likely to defy him. Like Lorkin had been inclined to do to Sonea, from time to time.
Anyi smiled. “They will if I betray you,” she said. “I could tell someone where to find you, perhaps. Of course, you’ll know and can arrange an escape plan.”
Cery nodded. “I’ll consider it.” He looked at Sonea. “Anything from Lorandra?”
Thinking of Skellin’s mother, locked away in the Dome, Sonea winced. “Some of the Higher Magicians don’t like me talking to her, and I suspect Administrator Osen only agrees to it because he thinks it would be cruel if nobody ever spoke to her. Kallen told us that she doesn’t know where Skellin is so they can’t see why I bother questioning her. They don’t see that mind-reading has limits, and that she may be able to guess where her son is if prompted. I doubt I’ll ever get permission to read her mind myself.” She shook her head. “And talking to her is all I do. She never says a word.”