| was at an end. "Please return to Ginger Palace with more
I frankincense and myrrh."
| Ruha did not return the bow. "You may be certain we
(will-but first, we are interested in purchasing some
S wares to take with us." The witch fingered the silk veil that Hsieh had given to her. "As you can see, the love of
Shou silk reaches even into the depths ofAnauroch."
"Of course. You discuss with Prince Tang." Wei Dao bowed again. "Come back tomorrow, and new chamber- lain sees you are among first to see my husband."
"I am sorry, but that is not possible." Ruha had to fight to keep the panic out of her voice. "We must leave for
Ilipur tomorrow to buy a new ship."
"Then come very early in morning. Chamberlain give you first appointment." Wei Dao turned to leave, this time without bowing.
Ruha threw open the coffer in Fowler's hands. "Before
you go, Princess, Abazm said you would want to see the color of our gold."
Wei Dao spun around, affronted. "Show me money?
What for?"
Fowler tipped the box so she could look inside, and the princess's expression changed instantly-first to one of puzzlement, then interest.
"Yes, of course. Abazm always tells us we must inspect coins." She glided over to the box and started to reach inside, then remembered herself and asked, "May I
touch?"
Ruha nodded, and Wei Dao picked up several gold pieces and raised them to her face. When Ruha saw the coin from Calimshan slide down the long sleeve of the princess's dress, she thought it best not to say anything.
"You stay tonight in Ginger Palace," Wei Dao said, as though she had thought of the idea herself. "We see
Prince Tang soon after breakfast."
Seven
Ruha raised her veil, blew into the tree-shaped keyhole, and whispered the incantation to her wind spell. A
short blast of air whistled softly through the slot, raising a gentle clat- ter as it rattled the lock. The sound was not loud, but the witch cringed.
After a long night of skulking through the Ginger Palace, she had worked her way deep into the labyrinthine corridors of the residential section, and the guards here were thick as ants in their hill.
The bolt slid back with a muffled clack. Ruha stood, then looked back down the long hall. Already, two sen- tries were stalking toward her, their bare feet sliding across the silk runner in utter silence. It was their incredible stealth that made the witch's search so nerve- wracking. She never knew when she would meet one coming around a corner, or suddenly feel someone gliding past her as she kneeled before a keyhole.
Ruha pressed herself into a corner beside the door, moving very slowly and deliberately. Although she had rendered herself invisible with a sun spell, the mirage was not perfect. Any quick motion would cause a shim- mering blur that might alert the guards to her presence.
The men stopped before the door, gesturing at the knob and whispering to each other in the lilting language of the Shou. After arguing a few moments, they tried the
latch. When the door swung open, they gasped and backed away, both reaching for their square-tipped swords. One of them spoke, and the other scurried down the hall.
The remaining guard peered into the room, calling gently, as though saying someone's name. No one answered. He reluctantly entered the chamber, still speaking softly. Though she was puzzled by the man's alarm, Ruha followed him through the door and instantly realized she had found the personal quarters of Lady
Feng.
Opposite the door was a glass window, through which spilled the pale dawn light illuminating an anteroom similar to those Ruha had found in the private apart- ments of both the prince and princess. Like many cham- bers in the Ginger Palace, this one was furnished with nothing more than a single low table and a few straw mats. The walls were covered not by the resplendent frescoes of birds and reptiles that decorated the other royal apartments, but by subtly hued paintings of sym- bolic portent: a snake coiled into an ascending spiral, a feeble old man sailing backward across a rainbow, a spi- der that had spun its web in the mouth of a singing woman, and many more images that would have put the witch into a contemplative mood, had she not been so jit- tery from hours of skulking about the Ginger Palace.
The guard crossed the chamber and nervously called through the doorway into the next room. When no one answered, he reluctantly inched forward. Ruha went to the window and, while she waited for the sentry to com- plete his search, looked out upon the rear part of the palace complex. She could not see much, for a large, high- walled enclosure sat in the middle of the grounds, block- ing her view of everything beyond save the tiled roofs of the two huge buildings the witch had noticed yesterday.
Ruha could not decide what the enclosure was. Its walls were capped by a double row of barbed spikes, as though it were some sort of prison, but the gates hung
open beneath a strange, scaly archway that vaguely resembled a dragon's tail. A short, opal-paved path con- nected the peculiar courtyard to the mansion, crossing an arcing, multicolored bridge and snaking through a thicket of well-tended shrubbery. The witch noticed sev- eral sentries kneeling among the bushes, not hiding so much as trying to avoid obtrusiveness.
Ruha was dismayed to note that the sun had already risen high enough to kindle an iridescent glimmer in the pearly surfaces of both the walkway and the enclosure's scaly arch. There was not much time to find Yanseldara's staff. Soon, the breakfast servants would arrive at the guest house in the front courtyard. Fowler could probably keep them at bay, but he would be hard-pressed to explain the witch's absence when someone called to escort them to Prince Tang's audience hall.
Ruha cast an impatient look toward the room the guard had gone to inspect. She was tempted to start her own search before he left the apartment, but that would be very dangerous. As quietly as Shou sentries moved, he might slip into the chamber while she wasn't looking and see her move something. Besides, if anyone in the other rooms was a light sleeper, it would be better to let the sentry disturb them.
A short time later, the guard finally returned, mutter- ing to himself and glancing askance at the mystical sym- bols on the walls. Ruha had heard no conversations or startled cries to suggest he had awakened anyone, so she did not understand his anxiety. When she had inadver- tently drawn the guards' attention before, they had seemed much more confident of themselves. In one case, they had remained quite composed while they explained to a startled bureaucrat why they had awakened him.
Another time, they had efficiently searched an entire apartment without disturbing the sleeping residents.
Ruha waited until the fellow left the room, then went to the door and used the same spell she had used to unlock the latch to lock it again. A muffled cry of surprise
sounded from the hall. The guard tried the door, again speaking softly. The witch turned away and crept silently into the next room, not caring that she had alarmed him further. When the other sentry returned, he would no doubt bring a superior, who would probably insist on searching the apartment again. If the witch was still here, the sound of the lock turning would alert her to their arrival.