"Astonishing," said Requin. "I" ve always thought about having a suite of furniture crafted in this style. I love the Last Flowering. This is quite a thing to part with."
"They" re wasted on me, Requin. A fancy chair is a fancy chair as far as I'm concerned. Just be careful with them. For some reason, they're shear-crescent wood. Safe enough to sit in, but don't abuse them."
"This is… most unexpected, Master Kosta. I accept. Thank you." Requin returned, with obvious reluctance, to the chair behind his desk. "This doesn't slip you out of your need to deliver on your end of our agreement. Or to continue your explanation." The smile on his face diminished, no longer reaching his eyes.
"Of course not. But concerning that… look, Stragos has a jar of fire-oil up his arse about something. He's sending Jerome and me away for a bit, on business."
"Away?" The guarded courtesy of a moment earlier was gone; the single word was delivered in a flat, dangerous whisper. Here goes. Crooked Warden, throw your dog a scrap.
"To sea," said Locke. "To the Ghostwinds. Port Prodigal. On an errand." "Strange. I don't recall moving my vault to Port Prodigal."
"It relates to that." But how? "We're… after something." Shit. Not nearly good enough. "Someorae, actually. Have you ever… ah, ever—" "Ever what}" "Ever heard of… a man named… Calo… Callas?" "No. Why?"
"He's, ah… well, the thing is, I feel foolish about this. I thought maybe you" d have heard about him. I don't know if he even exists. He might be nothing more than a tall tale. You're sure you don't recall hearing the name before?" "Certain. Selendri?" "The name means nothing," she said.
"Who is he supposed to be, then?" Requin folded his gloved hands tightly together.
"He's…" What would do it? What would sensibly draw us away from this place if we're here to break the vault? Oh… Crooked Warden, of course! "… a lockbreaker. Stragos's spies have a file on him. Supposedly, he's the best, or he was, back in his day. An artist with a pick, some sort of mechanical prodigy. Jerome and I are expected to entice him out of retirement so he can apply himself to the problem of your vault." "What's a man like that doing in Port Prodigal?"
"Hiding, I imagine." Locke felt the corners of his mouth drawing upward and suppressed an old familiar glee; once a Big Lie was let out in the world, it seemed to grow on its own and needed little tending or worry to bend to the situation. "Stragos says that the artificers have tried to kill him several times. He's their antithesis. If he's real, he's the gods-damned anti-artificer."
"Strange that I" ve never heard of him," said Requin, "or been asked to find and remove him."
"If you were the artificers," said Locke, "would you want to spread knowledge of his capabilities to someone in a position to make the best possible use of them?" "Hmmm."
"Hell." Locke scratched his chin and feigned distracted consideration. "Maybe someone did ask you to find him and remove him. Just not by that name, and not with that description of his skills, you know?" "But why, of all the Archon's agents, would you and Jerome—" "Who else is guaranteed to come back or die trying?" "The alleged poison. Ah."
"We have two months, maybe less." Locke sighed. "Stragos warned " us not to dally. We're not back by then, we get to find out how skilled his personal alchemist is." "The service of the Archon seems a complicated fife, Leocanto."
"Fucking tell me about it. I liked him much better when he was just our unknown paymaster." Locke rolled his shoulders and felt some of his sore back muscles protest. "We leave inside the month. That's what the day-sailing is about. We'll slip in with the crew of an independent trader once we've had some training, so we don't stand out as the land-huggers we are. No more late nights gaming for us until we get back." "You expect to succeed?" "No, but one way or another, I'm damn well coming back. Maybe Jerome can even have an "accident" on the voyage. Anyhow, we'll be storing our wardrobes at the Villa Candessa. And we'll be leaving every centira we currently have on your ledgers right where they are. My money and Jerome's. Hostage against my return, as it were."
"And if you do return," said Selendri, "you might bring back a man who can genuinely aid the Archon's design."
"if he's there," said Locke, "I'll be bringing him straight back here first. I expect you'll want to have a frank discussion with him about the health benefits of accepting a counter-offer." "Assuredly," said Requin.
"This Callas," said Locke, letting excitement rise in his voice, "he could be our key to getting Stragos over the coals. He could be an even better turncoat than I am."
"Why, Master Kosta," said Selendri, "I doubt that anyone could be a more enthusiastic turncoat than you."
"You know damn well what I'm enthusiastic about," said Locke. "But that's that. Stragos hasn't told us anything else so far. I just wanted to get rid of those damn chairs and let you know we" d be leaving for a while. I assure you, I'll be back. If it's in my power at all, I'll be back." "Such assurances," mused Requin. "Such earnest assurances."
"If I wanted to cut and run," said Locke, "I would have done it already. Why come and tell you all this first?"
"Obvious," said Requin, smiling gently. "If this is a ploy, it could buy you a two-month head start during which I wouldn't think to go looking for you."
"Ah. An excellent point," said Locke. "Except that I'd expect to start dying horribly around then, head start or no." "So you claim."
"Look. I'm deceiving the Archon of Tal Verrar on your behalf. I'm deceiving Jerome gods-damned de Ferra. I need allies if I'm going to get out of this shit; I don't care if you two trust me, I have to trust you. I am showing you my hand. No bluff. Now, again, you tell me how we proceed."
Requin casually riffled the edges of the parchment pile on his desk, then matched gazes with Locke. "I expect to hear the Archon's further plans for you immediately. No delays. Make me wonder where you are again and I'll have you fetched. With finality." "Understood." Locke made a show of swallowing and wringing his hands together. "I'm sure we'll be seeing him again before we leave. I'll be here the night after any meeting, no later."
"Good." Requin pointed in the direction of the climbing closet. "Leave. Find this Calo Callas, if he exists, and bring him to me. But I don't want dear Jerome slipping over a rail while you're out at sea. Understand? Until Stragos is in hand, that privilege is mine to deny." "I—"
"No "accidents" for Master de Ferra. You satisfy that grudge on my sufferance. That's the bargain." "If you put it that way, understood, of course."
"Stragos has his promised antidote." Requin took up a quill and returned his attention to his parchments. "I want my own assurance of your enthusiastic return to my fair city. You want to slaughter your calf, you tend him for a few months first. Tend him very well? "Of… of course." "Selendri will show you out."