Saabril stands up. “Whatever happened to her in the magic space seems to have sapped her will to live.”
“Is she actually going to die?”
“It’s possible.”
“You’re a medical sorcerer. Highly qualified, according to Lisutaris. Why can’t you cure her?”
Saabril Clearwater shakes her head. “I just can’t. I don’t even know what’s wrong with her. Strange things can happen in the magic space.”
“Strange things can happen outside the magic space as well. Has she been attacked by sorcery?”
“No. Or at least, none that I can identify. I brought another medical sorcerer in for a second opinion, one of the Simnians, but he couldn’t find anything wrong with her either.”
“I’d like to see her.”
Saabril lifts the tent flap and I walk inside. Tirini is propped up on a camp bed, staring into space. She looks much the same as before. Her hair is lank. Dark roots show beneath the blonde. Her face is becoming increasingly gaunt. It doesn’t take a medical expert to realise that she can’t go on like this for much longer. The combination of not eating, and whatever affected her in the magic space, will carry her off soon. Again, I find the sight upsetting. One of my last memories of Tirini before we left Turai is of her casting scorn on the untidiness and uncleanliness of my rooms at the Avenging Axe. It amazed her that I didn’t even have a servant to clean up for me. Now she’s not even in a fit state to clean herself, though Saabril has been doing her best to care for her. Saabril does give the impression of being a woman who cares. She has a re-assuring manner, and a soft, pleasant voice.
“Hello Tirini.”
Tirini is staring into space. She doesn’t acknowledge me. I raise my voice a little. I’m uncomfortable, trying to question a sick woman. I’ve interviewed sick people before, in the course of my investigations, but I don’t enjoy it.
“I was wondering about your shoes.”
This gets her attention. She looks in my direction, though whether she’s quite focusing on me, I can’t tell.
“What sort of shoes did you lose? Were they fancy high heels?”
She doesn’t reply. I try again. “Or were they slippers? I heard you had some slippers, when you with Gurd and Tanrose.”
At this, I think I see a faint reaction. Tirini’s eyes focus on my face. She struggles to speak.
“College,” she whispers.
“College? What do you mean?”
Tirini’s eyes lose their focus again.
“What do you mean, college? Is it something to do with the shoes you lost?”
Tirini sits back, and stares into space. I raise my voice again, to repeat my question, but Saabril Clearwater puts her hand on my arm.
“I don’t think she can take any more questions,” she says, softly.
She’s right. Tirini Snake Smiter is in no state to answer questions. She’s in no state for anything. She’ll be dead soon enough if no one finds a way to cure her. We leave the tent. Saabril tells me she’s been to see Lisutaris again, hoping for help. Lisutaris hasn’t had time to attend personally, but has promised to send medical sorcerers from other units. Sorcery is a very wide field; no one knows every spell, and there are different methods and systems. Perhaps someone will be able to help.
I make my way through the assembled ranks of the Sorcerers Regiment and the Sorcerers Auxiliary Regiment on my way back to my wagon. Most of the army’s tents have been repaired, horses retrieved, wagons fixed and so on, but it’s cost us a whole day’s travelling. We’re late for our rendezvous with the Niojans. I’m depressed by my visit to Tirini, though still quite warmed by Gurd’s beer. Perhaps because of that, I halt in front of Lisutaris’s command tent. I’d like to ask her a few questions. I remember it wasn’t that long ago that she was insulting me. I shrug. She’s probably over it by now. Even if she’s not, I’m used to talking to people who don’t want to talk to me. That’s what I spend most of my life doing as an investigator.
There are various officers and military delegations waiting to talk to our War Leader. High-ranking Simnian officers, two Elvish commanders, a few senior sorcerers. I push my way to the front of the queue and announce myself.
“Captain Thraxas, Chief Security Officer of the Commander’s Personal Security Unit. Urgent business with our War Leader.”
To the annoyance of the assembled officers, the guards let me through. There are hostile mutterings behind me as I stride into the tent. Inside, Lisutaris is sitting at her desk while Makri lurks behind her, being vigilant.
“Captain Thraxas. I wasn’t expecting to see you for a while. I’m very busy,” says Lisutaris.
“Important business, Commander. It can’t wait.”
“What is it?”
“Can you tell me any more about Tirini?”
“What?”
“Tirini Snake Smiter. I want to know more about her.”
“Why?”
“I’m looking for her shoes.”
Lisutaris drums her fingers on her table, something I don’t recall seeing her do before.
“I thought you’d come with news about Deeziz.”
“I need to talk about Tirini.”
“Why?”
“It’s important.”
“In what way?”
That’s difficult to answer. I don’t really know in what way. I just feel that it is.
“Make it quick,” says Lisutaris. “What do you want to know?”
“Why does she like shoes so much? Was she born rich? Did she grow up in luxury?”
“No. Tirini’s father was a minor official at the Palace. Poldius, I think his name was. Respectable, but not wealthy. The same sort of background as a lot of sorcerers.”
I nod. “When did she start being obsessed with fashion and so on?”
“I think she always has been. Is this actually important?”
“You never know what might be important.”
Lisutaris looks at me rather pointedly. “I’m starting to think of a few things that might not be.”
“I remember when I dismissed her as useless, back in Turai, you defended her. You said she had a lot of power. Is that true or were you just defending her because she’s your friend?”
“She is powerful. She always was, right from her first days at the sorcerers' college. That’s how she got her name.”
“How?”
“One of their professor’s spells went wrong. He accidentally unleashed a mutated, magic snake, causing panic all over the building. It was far too powerful a beast for any of the students to fight. They were all told to stay in their rooms while the professors hunted it down. But Tirini found it in her wardrobe, nibbling on her shoes. Naturally she was furious, and blasted it out of existence. No magical creature can mess around with her footwear. She’s always been extremely powerful.”
Lisutaris looks rather sad. “She been a good friend too. I hope you can help her, but I really can’t spare you any more time. I need to talk to the Elvish officers.”
“When I was talking to Tirini, she said two things. Someone took her shoes, and college. Did she wear some special sort of shoes at sorcerer’s college?”
Lisutaris answers impatiently. “How would I know that? Tirini is younger than me, she attended the college after I’d left.”
“So you can’t tell me any significant shoe-related information about Tirini at college?”
“No, I can’t. Are you going to surprise me at the end of this conversation by telling me you’ve had some inspiration about Deeziz?”