Locke's bodyguard continued to look around, as did the two soldiers atop the carriage, each dressed in nondescript coachman's uniforms. The second carriage, the one carrying Locke's suite of chairs, rattled to a halt behind the first. Its team of grey horses stamped their feet and snorted, as though the scent of the kitchens was not to their taste. A heavyset Sinspire attendant with thinning hair hurried over to Locke and bowed.
"Master Kosta," he said, "apologies, sir, but this is the service courtyard. We simply cannot receive you in the accustomed style here; the front doors are far more suited to—"
"I'm in the right place." Locke put one hand on the attendant's shoulder and slipped five silver volani into the man's vest pocket, letting the coins clink against one another as they slipped from his hand. "Find Selendri, as quickly as you can." "Find… uh… well—" "Selendri. She stands out in a crowd. Fetch her now." "Uh… yes, sir. Of course!"
Locke spent the next five minutes pacing in front of his carriage while the swordswoman tried to look casual and keep him within a few steps at the same time. Surely nobody would be foolish enough to try anything, he thought — not with five people at his beck and call, not here in the very heart of Requin's domain. Nonetheless, he was relieved to finally see Selendri step out through the service door, wearing a flame-coloured evening gown that made the brass of her artificial hand look molten where it reflected orange. "Kosta," she said. "To what do I owe the distraction?" "I need to see Requin." "Ah, but does Requin need to see^yow?"
"Very much," said Locke. "Please. I do need to see him in person. And I'm going to need some of your stronger attendants — I" ve brought gifts that need careful handling." "Gifts?"
Locke showed her to the second carriage and opened the door. She spared a quick glance at Locke's bodyguard, then stroked her brass hand with her flesh hand while she pondered the contents of the compartment.
"Are you entirely sure that such obvious bribery is the solution to your problems, Master Kosta?"
"It's not like that, Selendri. It's rather a long story. In fact, he'd be doing me a favour if he'd accept them. He has a tower to decorate. All I have is a rented suite and a storage room."
"Interesting." She closed the door to the second carriage, turned away and began walking back toward the tower. "I can't wait to hear this. You'll come up with me. Your attendants stay here, of course."
The swordswoman looked as diough she might utter a protest, so Locke shook his head firmly and pointed sternly at the first carriage. The glare she returned made him glad that she was bound by orders to protect him.
Once inside the Sinspire, Selendri gave whispered instructions to the heavyset attendant, then led Locke through the usual busy crowds, up to the service area on the third floor. Soon enough they were locked away inside the darkness of the climbing closet, slowly rising to the ninth floor. Locke was surprised to feel her actually turn toward him.
"Interesting bodyguard you" ve found for yourself, Master Kosta. I didn't know you rated an Eye of the Archon."
"Er, neither did 1.1 suspected, but I didn't know. What makes you so sure?" "Tattoo on the back of her left hand. A lidless eye in the centre of a rose. She's probably not used to going about in common clothes; she should have worn gloves."
"You must have sharp eyes. Eye. Sorry. You know what I mean. I saw it, but I didn't give it much thought."
"Most people aren't familiar with the sigil." She turned away from him once again. "I used to have one just like it on my own left hand." "I… well. That's… I had no idea."
"The things you don't know, Master Kosta. The things you simply do not know…" Gods damn it, Locke thought. She was trying to unnerve him, returning her own strat peti for his effort to engage her sympathy the last time thed'r been this close. Did everyone in this damn city have a little game?
"Selendri," he said, trying to sound earnest and a bit hurt, "I have never desired anything more than to be a friend to you." "As you're a friend to Jerome de Ferra?"
"If you knew what he'd done to me, you" d understand. But as you seem to want to flaunt your secrets, I think I'll just keep a few of my own."
"Please yourself. But you might remember that my opinion of you will ultimately be a great deal more final than your opinion of me."
Then the climbing closet creaked to a halt, and opened to the light of Requin's office. The master of the Sinspire looked up from his desk as Selendri led Locke across the floor; Requin's optics were tucked into the collar of his black tunic, and he was poring over a large pile of parchment. "Kosta," he said. "This is timely. I need some explanation from you."
"And you're certainly going to get it," said Locke. Shit, he thought, / hope he hasn't found out about the assassins on the docks. I have too damn much to explain as is. "May I sit?" "Grab your own chair."
Locke selected one from against the wall and set it before Requin's desk. He surreptitiously rubbed the sweat of his palms away on his breeches as he sat down. Selendri bent over beside Requin and whispered in his ear at length. He nodded, then stared at Locke. "You" ve had some sun," he said. "Today," said Locke. "Jerome and I were sailing in the harbour." "Pleasant exercise?" "Not particularly."
"A pity. But it seems you were on the harbour several nights ago. You were spotted returning from the Mon Magisteria. Why have you waited so long to bring the events of that visit to my attention?"
"Ah." Locke felt a rush of relief. Perhaps Requin simply didn't know there was any relevant link between Jean, himself and the two dead assassins. A reminder that Requin wasn't all-knowing was exactly what Locke needed at that moment, and he smiled. "I presumed that if you wanted to know sooner, one of your gangs would have hauled us here for a conversation."
"You should make a little list, Kosta, titled People it's Safe for Me to Antagonize. My name will not appear on it."
"Sorry. It wasn't exactly by design; Jerome and I have had a need over the past few days to go from sleeping with the sunrise to rising with it. And the reason for that does have something to do with Stragos's plans."
At that moment, a Sinspire attendant appeared at the head of the stairs leading up from the eighth floor. She bowed deeply and cleared her throat.
"Begging your pardon, master and mistress. Mistress ordered Master Kosta's chairs brought up from the courtyard."
"Bring them in," said Requin. "Selendri mentioned these. What's this, then?"
"I know it's going to look more crass than it really is," said Locke, "but you" d be doing me a favour, quite honestly, by agreeing to take them off my hands." "Take them off your… oh my."
A burly Sinspire attendant came up the stairs, carrying one of Locke's chairs before him with obvious caution. Requin rose from his desk and stared.
"Talathri Baroque," he said. "Surely, it's Talathri Baroque… you there — put those in the centre of the floor. Yes, good. Dismissed."
Four attendants deposited four chairs in the middle of Requin's floor and then retreated back down the stairwell, bowing before they left. Requin paid them no heed; he stepped around the desk and was soon examining a chair closely, running a gloved finger over its lacquered surface.
"Reproduction…" he said slowly. "Beyond any doubt… but absolutely beautiful." He returned his attention to Locke. "I wasn't aware that you were familiar with the styles I collect." "I'm not," said Locke. "Never heard of the Talathri Whatever before! now. A few months ago, I played cards with a drunk Lashani. His credit was… strained, so I agreed to accept my winnings in goods. I got four expensive chairs. They" ve been in storage ever since because, honestly, what the hell am I going to do with them? I saw the things you keep up here in your office, and I thought perhaps you might want them. I'm glad they suit. Like I said, you're the one doing me a favour if you take them."