"Describe the sword," Aquint said to her.
She did so, and the clerk went scurrying into a partitioned alcove, emerging a moment later bearing her sheathed combat sword. She took it, examined it, feeling that a piece of herself had been returned to her. It was nearly a sentimental experience.
She strapped it on, and Aquint led her out. The clerk had been nervous in their presence. The Registry's sentries, too, had betrayed an uneasiness. It was surely their status as Internal Security agents that prompted this reaction. Aquint had told her and Deo repeatedly that their positions overrode any normal military authority.
What measure of power, then, did this Abraxis wield? Aquint had said he was second in the empire only to Matokin. It was a formidable figure they were going to tangle with today.
They wound through a few more corridors, finally coming to a high-ceilinged chamber that Radstac recognized. A pair of robed mages was already present. They gave her and Aquint timid anxious glances. One of the wizards held a figurine of smooth purple glass in her hand, her thumb stroking it persistently. This was the Far Speak mage, Radstac concluded. Waiting for the word from Felk to open the arrival portal, which would be the job of the other wizard.
She and Aquint stood and waited. Aquint maintained a cool demeanor. For the first time Radstac spared a thought to wonder who this man had been before this war, before he had become so successful a collaborator. Surely he had engaged in some illicit enterprise. She couldn't quite imagine Aquint living an honest life. If she had to guess, she would say he'd been a black marketeer.
The message Aquint had sent to Felk had alerted Lord Abraxis that arrests of the key figures in the Callahan rebel underground were imminent. It also invited Abraxis to participate in the subsequent interrogations. Abraxis's reply indicated that he would accept the invitation.
The Far Speak wizard's grip on the glass figurine tightened, and her eyes closed. When she opened them and looked to her fellow magician, the Far Movement wizard started the busy process of conjuring the portal that linked to the one being opened at this same moment in the city of Felk.
Radstac was acutely conscious of the shifting energies in the room. She watched as the air in the center of the chamber wavered in a way that contradicted all natural principles. Magic, though, she knew, was as natural as any other precept of nature. It existed, as did those who had an innate affinity to practice it.
It was only that those users could pervert magic to their own unnatural ends that made it dangerous.
A figure—robed, tall, trim almost to the point of gauntness—emerged from the patch of disorderly air. He had a confident stride, cold and expressionless eyes. He showed no more response from materializing out of the portal than he might have if he'd merely walked across this room.
From Abraxis's right shoulder hung a small red cloth bag.
Aquint stepped forward and saluted. "Lord Abraxis, welcome to Callah." The two wizards of the garrison huddled excitedly together, sneaking looks at the mage from Felk. Radstac supposed that Abraxis was something of a celebrity to these magicians.
"Have the arrests been made?" Abraxis asked bluntly. There was no trace of friendliness in his voice. This was a man who likely associated with no one but those of comparable status and power. Underlings were not to be fraternized with.
"I have been holding the order until your arrival," Aquint said.
"My time is very valuable. Why have you delayed?"
"I thought you would enjoy seeing the rebels' downfall for yourself, Lord."
"I am interested in results, nothing more. I believe I've made mention of that fact before."
Aquint didn't flinch from the cool edge of Abraxis's tone. "You have, Lord. However, since you are here, and the operation is set, perhaps..."
Abraxis's gaze shifted past Aquint, picking out Radstac for the first time. His eyes dismissed her, and he looked again at Aquint. "Very well. I will observe. But I perceive that you are doing this to demonstrate to me how useful an agent you are. I don't especially object to that. However, if you fail in this, my disappointment will be proportionally dire."
Aquint took this without blinking. He escorted Abraxis back through the corridors, Radstac behind the two, palm atop her sword's pommel. Aquint mentioned that he had recruited other agents for this assignment, but Abraxis made no comment, evidently truly uninterested in the details.
They came out again into the marketplace that abutted the Registry. Aquint picked a path through the stalls and the bustle. They wound among the hagglers, the fast-handed merchants, the poorer patrons eyeing goods too costly for them. Quickly their tiny entourage was out of sight of the sentries at the Registry's entrance.
Ahead there was a stall with a red and yellow canvas awning. A large man with a brimmed hat pulled low over a blemished face was tending it. A few nondescript goods were on display.
Radstac let out a breath, drew another, slowly, smoothly. She fell a further deliberate step behind Aquint and Abraxis. As the pair reached the stall, she stooped and snapped the blade from her right kidskin boot. At the same moment, Tyber grabbed up a piece of pottery and stepped out from the stall, directly into Abraxis's path.
"Now, here's a person of obvious taste and refinement!" Tyber cried with the false merriment of a vendor. "Surely you, my friend, can appreciate the precious quality of this—this—this fine thing here in my hand! As to the price, well..."
Abraxis halted. Aquint stepped ahead to brush aside the impertinent merchant, but Tyber wasn't budging easily. Radstac moved forward, senses primed, the knife balanced in her hand.
"Were it not for the completely justified but godsdamned murderous taxes imposed by our righteous Felk visitors, I might be able to offer you a true bargain. Nevertheless, you'll find the price I ask so astonishingly reasonable that a man as wise and perceptive as yourself will jump at—"
Radstac reached for the red carrying bag's strap. She would cut it, like a common sneak thief, and make off with the prize. Before she could reach the bag, however, Abraxis's tall bony frame stiffened, and the mage spun sharply about.
She had done nothing to betray herself. Her stealth had been impeccable. Magic. Some sort of protective spell cast over the bag. It made sense.
Abraxis's cold eyes came alive. Aquint was still pretending to hold off Tyber, who had cut short his spiel, seeing that Radstac's gambit had failed.
Radstac saw it all with the honed clarity of mansid. Abraxis brought a hand up out of his drab robe. The long fingers were splayed. His lips moved, rapidly, with much contorting. She still had the flat throwing blade in hand. She was in jeopardy. As with the casting of the Far Movement spell, she perceived now a fluctuation of abstract energies in the air about the scene. Abraxis was about to loose on her some brand of destructive magic.
Tyber roughly shoved aside Aquint. His brimmed hat tumbled off his head. He had insisted on having a part in this today, despite the fact that, as Radstac had learned, he was already wanted by the garrison. Something about an attempted bribing of a Felk officer. The Minstrel, initially opposed to Tyber's participation, had eventually relented.
Lifting the piece of cheap pottery the full extension of his arm, Tyber brought it slamming down on Abraxis's skull. It shattered into unrecognizable shards, and the mage staggered heavily, mouth gaping in pain, interrupting whatever incantation he was reciting.
Tyber had done it without the least hesitation, once he'd seen that Radstac was in danger.
Abraxis stumbled a further step, doubled over, trying to stay on his feet. Radstac made a second grab at the bag, but the wizard twisted out of the way with surprising litheness. There was of course nothing for it. She was going to have to kill him. Already a commotion was growing around this scene, vendors and patrons looking to see what was happening. The tumult was going to call the attention of the Felk soldiers very soon.