This was, Emmis thought, by far the nicest place he had ever woken up in his life, and that was including not just the rented embassy on Through Street, but the bed of that shipowner's silly daughter on Flood Street – though the company had been better there, as he was quite alone here.
He must have dozed off in Ithinia's parlor, while Lord Ildirin had been telling Lar what had happened – or perhaps Ithinia had used her sleep spell on him, though he really doubted any magic was necessary to explain it. Was this room in Ithinia's house, then? He threw off the covers and sat up, swinging his feet over the side of the bed.
His boots were gone – or rather, now that he looked, they were on the floor by the bed, rather than on his feet. He was still wearing his own familiar tunic and breeches, though, with traces of Zhol's blood still smeared on his shoulders, and his socks were still in place. That was reassuring, and fit his theory nicely. He slid off the bed and stood up, then pulled aside the red-and-white draperies and peered out the nearest window.
Lower Street. He was in Ithinia's house, and judged the room to be directly over the parlor. For a moment he wondered whether the wizard had somehow lifted him right through the floor, but then he decided that was silly; why would she do that, when she could just have someone carry him up here?
He looked at the light; the sky was still overcast, making it hard to judge the hour, but it was clearly long past dawn, and probably around midday.
"Emmis of Shiphaven?"
Emmis started; he hadn't heard the door open, but a young woman was peering in at him. "Yes?" he said.
"The Guildmaster will see you now, or if you prefer, I can bring up some breakfast first."
Emmis considered that, then said, "Breakfast would be very welcome, thank you." After all, he had not eaten since supper the night before, and he had not exactly been resting on silken cushions all night. Food sounded like a wonderful idea, and this would give him time to compose his thoughts.
The door closed.
Emmis found the chamberpot under the bed and used it, then pulled his boots back on. He was just taking another look out the window when someone knocked on the door.
He opened it to find the girl had returned with a tray; she pushed past him and set it on the unoccupied bedside table, then curtseyed and left, closing the door behind her before he could think of a single thing to say.
The tray held beer, bread, and sardines – not his usual breakfast, but satisfying enough. A napkin was provided, as well. He ate enthusiastically; when he had finished he wiped his mouth and hands, and was trying to decide whether he should wait or find his own way downstairs when another knock sounded.
He opened the door, expecting to see the serving girl again, but instead found Ithinia standing there. He quickly adjusted his stance and bowed.
"Guildmaster," he said. "I'm honored."
"You have no idea," she said wryly, stepping into the room. "I don't even let my own servants sleep in my house. Now, you said you wished to speak to me in private?"
"Yes." Before he could say anything else, though, the serving girl appeared behind Ithinia. She slipped past her mistress to collect the breakfast tray.
Emmis and Ithinia stood silently while she bustled out, closing the door behind her.
"I'm surprised you use human servants," Emmis remarked. "She is human, isn't she?"
"She is," Ithinia said. "Her name is Irith the Brisk, and she's from Fishertown. I could create magical servants, of course, and I do have a few – you may have noticed my gargoyles, I'm rather proud of them. But for household tasks, I've generally found hiring ordinary people more convenient. They're better at understanding what's needed, they aren't prone to odd restrictions in what they can do or where they can go, and they don't make guests nervous. Now, your business?"
"Are Lar and Lord Ildirin still here?"
"They left long ago, taking their guards living and dead with them, not an hour after you fell asleep, though they're both expected to return this afternoon. I had plenty of time to talk to Lord Ildirin last night, while you were out dodging assassins and the ambassador was petrified, but there are still several matters to be settled and spells to be performed."
That disturbed Emmis. While it wasn't part of his official duties, he felt that his job included protecting Lar, and he couldn't very well do that if the ambassador left him sleeping here while he went roaming the streets in the middle of the night. "Why didn't they wake me?"
"I think they wanted to speak privately with one another. And I allowed it – encouraged it, actually – because you wanted to speak privately with me. Which you are doing now, though to very little purpose as yet."
"I'm sorry," Emmis said. "It's something I heard from a theurgist yesterday." He blinked in surprise at his own words – had it really just been yesterday that he spoke to Corinal?
"Oh?"
"Guildmaster, why have wizards put protective spells on the towers in Lumeth? The theurgist said there were several very powerful protections on them, but the towers themselves are sorcerous in nature, not any sort of wizardry."
Ithinia froze, staring at him. Then she demanded, "What do you know about the towers?"
"I… not much, just what the theurgist told me. There are three of them, and each one is a sorcerer's talisman hundreds of feet high…"
"Why was this theurgist telling you about them in the first place?" Ithinia snapped, interrupting him.
"Well, I asked. He consulted the goddess Unniel for me…"
"Why did you ask?"
"Because… I can't tell you."
"What? Why not?"
"I swore I wouldn't."
That was not literally true; he had merely accepted that Lar would have him killed if he revealed too much. Ithinia did not look as if she was interested in explanations at the moment, though.
"You swore."
"Yes." He didn't hesitate; it was only after the word had left his mouth that he found himself wondering whether he was absolutely sure that wizards couldn't always tell truth from falsehood the way witches could.
"Oaths have power, you know."
"I know."
"That was why the assassin lingered after its attempt had failed – your oath gave it the power to stay."
"I know."
"You need to be more careful what oaths you swear and what vows you make, Emmis of Shiphaven."
"Honestly, I don't swear them lightly, Guildmaster."
"So you swore not to reveal something, and that something led you to ask a theurgist about the Lumeth towers. Didn't he want to know why you were asking?"
"Not as long as I paid him, no. And I asked him a lot of questions; I don't think that one stood out particularly."
"But he told you that the Wizards' Guild has been warding the Lumeth towers for centuries."
Emmis blinked. "No. He told me wizards were protecting the towers. He didn't mention the Guild or how long it had been going on."
"He told you the towers were sorcerous, though."
"Yes. Which just seems… I mean, talismans hundreds of feet high? Holding back poisons?"
"He told you that?"
"Yes. And that they're guarded by wizards' spells, powerful ones. And I thought that since you're a Guildmaster, you might know why they're guarded that way."
"I do – but why do you care? I know the ambassador is concerned about a possible war between Vond and Lumeth, but what does that have to do with you, or with the towers?"
"Well, because… I can't tell you all of it."
"What can you tell me?"
Emmis grimaced; he knew he should have been ready for this interrogation, that it hadn't been realistic to think Ithinia would answer his questions without asking her own, but he wasn't ready. He was making it up as he went along.