The servant didn't go away. "I'm very sorry to bother you, sir, but it's Mistress Laera. She's not in her rooms."
"Maybe she's stepped out for the evening!"
"Sir?"
As he opened his mouth, searching desperately for something to say that would get rid of the servant, Jacerryl moved. Both legs hammered out at Li. The Shou twisted, but one of Jacerryl's boots connected anyway, a solid kick to the groin. Li choked and staggered back, doubled over. Jacerryl was screaming the instant Li's hand left his throat. "Get help, you moron! I'm being attacked! Get help!"
He thrust himself up out of the chair. Tycho bounced up, jumping between him and the door. Jacerryl just turned the other way and darted for a second door. Li grabbed for him, but he dodged Li's outstretched hand. Growling, Li leaped closer-a heartbeat too late. Jacerryl, still howling for help, slammed the door in his face. Behind Tycho, the door to the corridor burst open and the servant rushed into the room. Tycho spun around, flung up a hand and sang a rough burst of song at him.
The magic caught the servant, sending him falling back in a daze. The damage had been done, though. Tycho could hear other voices out in the hall, raising the alarm. "Li!" he shouted.
The Shou wasn't listening. Shoulder leading, he hurled himself at the door through which Jacerryl had fled. Wood splintered and Li stormed through. Tycho shot a glance at the open door to the hallway, cursed, and went after him.
The chamber next door was some kind of sitting room with hunting trophies, art, and polished weapons displayed on the walls. Coals smoldered in the fireplace, shedding a thick, red light into the room. There was another door, presumably leading back out to the hallway. Li had Jacerryl down on the floor halfway to it. Jacerryl's screams had turned into broken whimpering as Li bashed his face against the rich carpet that covered the floor. "Enough, Li!" ordered Tycho. They weren't going to get any more out of Jacerryl. "We have to get out!" Li snarled and slapped Jacerryl across the back of his head one last time and jumped to his feet.
There was a window. Tycho grabbed a chair and swung it. Little panes of glass shattered. Lead bent. He swung the chair again and the window burst out entirely, letting night air swirl into the room. Tycho let the chair drop and leaned out through the wreckage. The lower roof of the library where he had given Laera her lessons sloped about six feet below; the ground was an easy drop from its lower edge. He swung his legs over the sill, ready to jump. "Follow me, Li!"
No response. He glanced over his shoulder.
The Shou was frozen, staring at something on the wall.
"Li!"
"Li!" Tycho's shout came from a distance.
Mounted on the wall of Jacerryl's sitting room, a pair of swords shone dully in the dim light. Their blades were short, only about as long as his hand and forearm, but wide. They had been sharpened only on one side, the edge curving up at the end to meet the back of the blade. Heavy guards also curved around leather-wrapped grips and extended up beside the back of the blade, a trap to catch and hold an opponent's weapon.
Delicately etched at the base of each blade was a single Shou character.
Li reached up and wrenched the swords off the wall. He whirled to stare at a cringing Jacerryl. "Where did you get these?"
"I bought them!"
"Where?"
"From the Hooded! He trades exotic weapons!"
"Li!" yelled Tycho. He was halfway out of a shattered window. "Come on!"
Servants were pouring into the recently vacated bed chamber. The door from the sitting room to the hall opened as well. More servants stood framed in the doorway. Tycho pushed off from the sill, dropping out of sight. Li slapped both swords into one hand and leaped for the window, shoving himself through and jumping down to the roof below. Slate tiles cracked and slid under his feet; he staggered and barely managed to stop himself from sliding as well. Tycho was crouched at the edge of the roof. He gestured for him to follow then turned and slithered backward over the edge, letting himself down slowly before dropping. Li scuttled carefully after him and peered over. Tycho stood in the snow below. "Hurry!"
"Catch these!" Li reached out and dropped the swords. Tycho gasped and flinched back then dodged forward again. Li didn't wait to see if he had the swords, but just slid down backward as Tycho had done. He caught a brief glimpse of servants peering out through the broken window above before he let go and dropped, rolling as he hit snow. Tycho grabbed his arm as he came to his feet and dragged him off into the shadows at a run.
They didn't stop until they were back in Spandeliyon's middle town and Tycho collapsed against a wall. "Here," he wheezed, "take your stupid knives. I hope they're worth almost getting caught!" He thrust the blades at him and bent over with his hands on his knees, sucking in deep breaths of air.
"They're not knives. They're swords. Butterfly swords. Shou weapons." Li wrapped his hands around the grips. He raised first the right then the left. "This one is Silkworm. This one is Mulberry Leaf."
Tycho looked up at him. "They have names?"
"These do." Li lowered the weapons and stared at them. "They were Yu Mao's!"
CHAPTER 7
With a nod from Brin, Lander knocked on the rough wood of the door. There was no response. He knocked again then tried the handle. The door pushed open less than a hair's width before jamming. "Bolted," he grunted at Brin.
The halfling shrugged. "Veseene!" he yelled. "Veseene, let us in or you'll need a new door!"
For a moment there was silence, but then Lander heard a soft shuffling from the other side of the door. It was followed, however, not by the door opening, but only by the sharp grate of an iron bolt being drawn. The shuffling returned, moving away from the door this time. Lander tried the door again. This time it swung open easily.
Veseene was doddering across the floor to a worn, blanket-covered couch. "I'm not going to give you an invitation if that's what you're waiting for," she said without turning around. She lowered herself onto the couch slowly. "What do you want from me, Brin?"
"Want? I'm just paying a call." Brin strutted through the doorway. Lander followed a little more cautiously. There were stories about Veseene. He had heard them when she had come to Spandeliyon for the first time, almost ten years ago-no archmage, but still a potent spellcaster who could wrap chains around a man's heart and mind with her songs and split the air itself with her shouts. Veseene the Lark. Over time, he had begun to wonder if the tales were nothing more than that, stories perhaps even spread by the bard herself. Certainly the greatest bit of magic he had seen her perform back then was prying Tycho away from the Spandeliyon dockside! And since the two of them had been back… well, there were new stories. Stories that said Veseene's powers had deserted her, stolen away by a wizened body that had betrayed her.
All the old woman had to do, however, was fix him with those faded blue eyes and suddenly he was a nothing but a youth with a cheap sword and scraggly whiskers again. "Close the door behind yourself, Lander," she said.
Kander swung it shut without even thinking, shooting closed the heavy bolt that was probably the sturdiest thing in the place. He looked around Tycho and Veseene's rooms. He had the distinct impression that if Brin hadn't forcefully prevented Black Scratch from following them up the stairs, the boar's weight would have collapsed the entire building. Veseene's couch looked hardly sturdy enough to support her birdlike frame. A cupboard against one wall seemed ready to fall apart; a rough chunk of wood supported one corner of it in place of a proper leg.
The fireplace was tiny, the walls crisscrossed with fine cracks, the shutters on the window as frail as Veseene herself. Light in the room came in wisps from the fireplace and from greasy yellow tallow candles. The legendary Lark and her smart-mouthed apprentice, Lander realized sharply, lived like desperate shadows, no better than any of Spandeliyon's docksiders and worse than some. Would anyone with power live like that?