“I never learned that skill, then.”
There was a lot I could have said to that, but nothing that would have been well received. “Do you happen to know any of their places of business?”
“A couple of the more obvious ones: There’s a sorcery supply shop on Lockwood, just west of the market. I’ve seen them go in and out of the place after hours. And there’s a tinsmith on Dencel that has to have some other source of income, and I know it isn’t Jhereg—I mean, our Jhereg. But give me a day or so and I’ll see if I can find a few more, so you have a good list to pick from.”
I nodded. “I appreciate it.”
“We have friends in common,” she said.
“Yes.”
“For now, if you won’t remove the amulet—”
She broke off with an inquiring look. “I won’t,” I said.
She nodded. “Then I think you should get up and come with me.”
I gave her a suspicious look. “Where are we going?”
“Down two flights of stairs.”
“Why?”
“Trust me,” she said.
Put that way, I had no choice. I reached for my shirt, but she said to leave it off, so I buckled on my rapier and Lady Teldra, and threw my cloak over my shoulders, feeling distinctly odd with a cloak and no shirt. Then I followed her out the door.
We went back down to the main level of the inn, then followed a vine-covered stone walkway outside and around, back into the building, and down another flight of stairs, at which point I began to smell something rotten and sharp—it nearly stung my nose—and vaguely familiar.
“What am I smelling?”
“Brimstone.”
“Oh. Uh, that doesn’t bode well.”
“Trust me.”
We emerged at last into what looked like a wide underground cavern, though some of the walls had been smoothed and there were sculptures here and there of impossible beasts, many of them with steaming water coming out of their mouths. There was a large pool in the middle, and screens set about it. Kiera led me to one of the screens. Stuck into it was a small green flag, upside down. She removed it, stuck it in right side up. “After you,” she said. I went past the screen, which she replaced behind me. In front of me was a small pool; the brimstone smell was very intense here, and the water was steaming heavily and bubbling.
“Get in,” she said.
“What will this do?”
“Make you hurt less tomorrow.”
“Really?”
“Either that or boil the skin off you. One or the other. Maybe both. Get in.”
I started to argue, stopped, shrugged, and removed my cloak. “Are you going to turn your back?”
“No,” she said.
I removed my boots and pants with as much dignity as I could; the pain helped keep my mind off my embarrassment. “What about the bandage?”
“Keep it on. I’ll change it when you get out.”
Loiosh and Rocza complained about the smell and flew over to the side, staying well away from the water. I couldn’t blame them.
My first reaction was that it was, indeed, going to boil the skin off me. But it was either immerse myself, or stand there naked in front of Kiera, and I’d rather hurt than look absurd.
It was very hot, and it also stank. I hoped like hell it would do enough good to be worth it.
Soaking yourself in hot, bubbling water is odd: the first touch burns, then you find you can stand it, and then after ten minutes or so it gets too hot again. I have no idea why that is; I just knew I wanted to get out. Kiera explained that if I got out she’d push me back in again, and I didn’t think I’d be able to stop her. Loiosh thought the whole thing was pretty funny.
I stayed in there for another five minutes or so, then Kiera produced a towel from somewhere and said, “That should do it.”
I stood up and wrapped the towel around myself. “How many sorcerers does it take to keep all this water so hot?”
“None,” she said. “It’s natural.”
I looked at her face to see if she was kidding, but I couldn’t tell, so I let it drop.
“How do you feel?” she wanted to know.
“Scalded.”
“I suppose.”
“But not bad, really.”
“Good,” she said. “I heard somewhere that Easterners couldn’t take that much heat, that their hearts would explode. But I didn’t believe it.”
I stared at her. She smiled sweetly. I shook my head and decided not to think about it too much.
“Go get some rest,” she said as I dressed myself. “I’ll try to get you some useful information, and then we’ll figure out what to do next.”
Oddly enough, I felt like I could rest. I still ached, but I felt relaxed and a little drowsy. Maybe more than a little; I don’t remember walking back up the stairs, or even lying down, except that I have a half-memory of Loiosh saying something that, at the time, I didn’t think was very funny.
When I woke up, some unknown number of hours later, it was dark outside. A check with the Imperial Orb told me it was still a few hours before dawn, and a check with my body told me I hurt a lot. Logic and experience convinced me I hurt less than I should have, but that was of strictly limited comfort. I guess those hot baths had done something, anyway.
I stood up, and carefully—very carefully—went through what I remembered of the warm-up exercises my grandfather had taught me when I was learning swordplay. He’d told me they worked to loosen up tight muscles, and that no magic was involved. I couldn’t do everything—my rib objected loudly to a lot of the positions before I could even get into them; but what I did seemed to help. I took it slow, spending over an hour stretching carefully and fielding comments from Loiosh about my new career as a dancer. I discussed his new career as a wall decoration, but he didn’t seem especially scared.
As I made my way into the courtyard, Loiosh spotted someone who looked like he might be a Jhereg. I waited inside the door while he and Rocza scouted the area, and eventually found a circuitous route out of the place and to the Palace, where no one was watching. I mean, I don’t know it was a Jhereg, and it if was I don’t know that he was going to do any more than watch my movements. But I didn’t feel inclined to take chances.
I passed through the Palace like I’d been doing it all my life, out the Iorich Wing, and into the House of the Iorich. There were no mysterious notes outside his door, and Loiosh said Perisil was inside, or else someone who breathed exactly the same. Loiosh once gave me a lecture on how to identify people by the sound of their breathing; I listened to be polite.
I clapped. After a moment, I clapped again. The door opened enough for him to look at me, then he grunted and opened it more. We sat.
“You’ve been busy,” he said.
Either his powers of observation didn’t extend to things like how slowly I was moving or how gingerly I sat or the purplish bruises on my face, or else it just wasn’t something he felt like talking about. I said, “What do you mean?”
“About an hour ago, I got word that the prosecution against Aliera was temporarily delayed, while the Empire carried out ‘further investigations.’ ”
“Um,” I said. “Is that good?”
“I don’t know,” he said. His peculiar eyes narrowed a little and he cocked his head. “What did you do?”
“I spoke with the Warlord. She, it seems, had a plan with the Empress to keep from having to execute Aliera, and I explained why it wouldn’t work.”