Lord Torrut hadn't fled, of course; he was out there somewhere, trying every sort of trap, ambush, and delaying tactic he could improvise. Sarai was fairly sure that Captain Tikri was with him. And most of the magicians she had collected in the palace were taking shelter at various places in the city, on Wizard Street or elsewhere.
And of course, she was staying, herself-but where?
There was a temptation to remain in the palace after all, but to pretend to be someone else-borrow a maid's apron, perhaps, or join the assistant cooks in the kitchens. After all, as far as she knew, Tabaea had never seen her and wouldn't recognize her face.
That was too risky, though. Tabaea might have spies, or her unknown magic might expose the deception, or some innocent servant might slip up and reveal Sarai's rank.
No, Sarai knew she would have to find somewhere else-but where?
She realized she was still staring down the black and empty length of Palace Street, though the wagon was out of sight; she turned away with a wry smile.
Maybe, she thought, she should go to the Wall Street Field. After all, wasn't that where anyone in Ethshar went who had lost her home and been thrown out into a hostile world? And wouldn't it be appropriate, now that Tabaea's ragtag followers would be taking their places in the palace?
But it wasn't everyone from the Field who was marching with the self-proclaimed empress, and Sarai realized, with a bitter little laugh, that the Field was probably the place in all the city outside the palace where she was most likely to be recognized as Lord Kalthon's daughter.
The barracks towers in Grandgate would be almost as bad- and besides, a woman alone there would hardly be safe. Besides, Grandgate, or any part of Wall Street, was a long way from the palace. She wanted somewhere closer at hand, somewhere she could keep an eye on things, the way the magicians did.
The magicians were mostly on Wizard Street, of course-and not necessarily the closer sections, since for many their spells could serve them even at a distance.
She frowned. She was no magician, and she hardly belonged on Wizard Street. She had a little money with her-not much, but a little. Why not just take a room at an inn?
No, she told herself, that would be too exposed, would involve too much dealing with strangers, and at this hour, would be far too noticeable. Ordinary travelers didn't take rooms hours after midnight, did they?
A high, thin scream sounded somewhere to the northeast, on the other side of the palace. The shouting was much closer, and she could hear other noises, noises she couldn't identify. Tabaea must be almost to the palace, and here she was, still standing on the plaza across from Palace Street.
She stepped off the stone pavement onto the bare earth of Circle Street, and choosing her direction at random, she turned right-she didn't want to follow Palace Street, or even the fork for North Palace Street. She wanted to put distance between herself and the fleeing nobles.
The next turn off the circle was Nightside Street, and she passed that by, as well, and the next. Here her choice was largely pragmatic; both streets were utterly black and unlit, while closer at hand the glow from the windows of the palace spilled out over the outer walls and made Circle Street relatively navigable.
She could hear the hissing of fountains left running, out there in the darkened gardens and forecourts; the sound, normally pleasant, was turned sinister and menacing by the circumstances. Sarai wondered whether the wealthy inhabitants of the mansions of Nightside were aware of what was happening just a few blocks away. When they awoke in the morning, how long would it take them to realize that the World had gone mad, that their overlord had been deposed, and that a thieving young magician was ruling the city? Would Tabaea leave them alone, or would she pillage those mansions behind their iron fences?
Well, if Sarai had her way, Tabaea wouldn't have time to disrupt the city's life that much. And right now, Lady Sarai did not care to try finding her way through Nightside's unlit streets.
Sooner or later, despite the dark, Sarai knew she would have to move farther out into the city, away from the palace; she wished there was more natural light to help her. The greater moon was rising in the east, casting orange light on the rooftops, but not yet penetrating to the streets below, while the lesser moon was far down in the west, its pale pink glow of no use at all.
By the time she reached North Street the roar of battle was overpowering, and farther ahead, farther around the circle, she could see reflected torchlight and the shadowed backs of soldiers. North Street was no more brightly illuminated than the others she had passed, but she could scarcely go any farther around the circle if she meant to escape; she turned left onto North Street, despite the darkness.
And then, suddenly, she knew where she was going. She would go to Wizard Street, just three blocks away. She would go to Mereth's shop, Mereth of the Golden Door. Even if Mereth wouldn't take her in, surely the wizard would know of someone who would.
Now that she had a destination in mind, Sarai began to hurry.
Behind her, a man's dying scream sounded above the fighting. Sarai winced. It seemed so pointless, fighting Tabaea every step of the way like this; didn't Lord Torrut see that? He was letting his men die for nothing.
But there was nothing Sarai could do about it, not anymore. She fled down North Street.
The stub of a lone torch still burned unnoticed above a shuttered shop on Harbor Street; Lady Sarai glanced at it, grateful for the slight relief from the surrounding night. To see Harbor Street utterly empty and almost dark seemed very odd indeed; she had never before been out so late and never seen the streets so deserted.
Behind her, the shouting seemed to be fading away. By the time she turned left onto Wizard Street, she was no longer entirely sure whether she heard shouting, or the distant roar of the sea.
Here there were no torches, only whatever light moons and stars might provide, but Sarai could see that the door of Mereth's shop was shut, her signboard unlit. The shop windows were tightly closed, draperies drawn, but a thin line of light showed around the edges; it would scarcely have been visible were the street brighter, either with daylight or the glow of the evening's torches and lanterns.
Sarai hurried to the door and rapped gently on the gilded panels.
For a long moment, nothing happened; then, abruptly, the door was flung open. "Get in!" someone ordered.
Sarai obeyed, and the door slammed shut behind her, leaving Wizard Street once more dark and empty.
CHAPTER 26
The palace door was locked and barred, but Tabaea didn't mind; she braced herself against the paving stones of the plaza, put her shoulder to the brass-covered panels, and shoved with all her supernatural strength. The latch shattered, the brackets holding the bar snapped, and the twisted, ruined door swung open. Tabaea laughed and shouted, "Come on!" She waved to her followers; some of them surged forward, close on her heels, but others hung back, intimidated by the idea of intruding on the palace itself.
Tabaea stepped through the broken portal into a broad and shadowy marble corridor; somewhere far ahead light spilled through an archway, and the contrast of the distant glow with the surrounding darkness seemed to exaggerate the length of the passage.
Or did it? Tabaea was unsure; the palace was for larger than any other building she had ever been in. Perhaps the corridor really was that long.
The euphoria of her triumphant march from Grandgate faded quickly at the sight of the polished stone floor, the countless doors on either side, and a gleaming staircase barely visible in the dim distance. This hardly seemed to her like a part of her own familiar city, or like anything human at all. She had thought old Serem's house was almost offensively magnificent, yet this palace hall dwarfed anything in the wizard's home.