“A diversion!” Soneste said. “Just like the ambassador’s murder. And you and Lenrik. This whole city is in tumult, but none of it is the real threat. It’s all just distraction!” Soneste withdrew the dreamlily from her pocket and unstoppered it. “Gan, what is Charoth doing?”
Despite his renewed agony, his eye fixed upon the vial in her hand. “Charoth and Mova. Working together on … something. For a long time. I don’t know what it is, I swear it!”
“Then what do you know about these diversions?” she asked. “You said Charoth has people within the Justice Ministry and among the White Lions. Where else?”
“I will say … but you must give it to me! Promise me!”
Tallis thought about what he knew of Charoth. The nobleman was supposed to be a mercantile lord, a man of industry, a chief player in Korth’s exports production. Tallis knew the man’s business often called for subterfuge-what noble’s didn’t? Charoth had once tried to hire him, after all. Could all this be the result of the wizard’s pride, revenge for declining his offer?
No, Soneste was right. There was more. Tallis hadn’t realized the depth of the man’s ambition. It couldn’t be about wealth. There were plenty of rich men in town, so what did Charoth want?
“I promised you already, Gan,” Soneste said. “When we’re satisfied that you’ve told us all you can, this is yours.”
“Charoth has people in the Justice Ministry, the Twelve, the White Lions, even the Sivis notaries, but he spent the last year getting his best into Kaius’s court, in Korth and in Rekkenmark. I would know, I’ve … I’ve trained them. They are my kind.”
“Changelings?” Soneste asked. “What is their mission? What can they possibly hope to do under such heavy guard? They cannot possibly threaten the king.”
Tallis looked to Gan. Was he-was Charoth-utterly mad? There was no place more impregnable than Crownhome! Tallis had laughed off every offer ever made to him to infiltrate the king’s palace, no matter the gold, and beneath his survivalist veneer, it was simply against his will to do so. It was the home of his king. Tallis wouldn’t dare.
Gan coughed, a harsh rasping sound. “When the time was right …” He tried to steady his voice. “Their … only task was to impersonate the prince and princess of Breland. They are good at what they do.”
Chapter TWENTY-SIX
Wir, the 11th of Sypheros, 998 YK
“Your man is late,” the old priestess said.
Charoth looked through the transparent wall of his office to the factory room below, watching his daytime workers leave one by one. Only a select few remained at their stations to maintain the tanks. The magewrights he’d hired to repair the outer wall of the western tank bordered on incompetent, but they’d patched it up well enough. Not that it mattered at the moment. He certainly wouldn’t need them tonight.
“Do not bring up the Night Shift until the rest have departed,” he told his foreman, who had stood waiting for the order. The work day had ended, but Charoth’s true work lay before him. “Once they are here, admit none into the factory. Any who intrude, the fire.”
Charoth looked absently to the furnace that adjoined the two heating tanks, necessary to keep the glass in a liquid state. The fire elemental bound there was very powerful; Charoth had hired the best Zil binders gold could buy. Living creatures fed into the mouth of the furnace were inevitably subject to the elemental’s ancient wrath and were incinerated within seconds-a convenient method of disposal for when enemies, rivals, or liabilities needed removing.
“Yes, my lord.” The foreman exited the office.
“Did you hear what I said, Charoth?” The priestess stepped into his view, demanding his attention. Her ceremonial red and black robes swayed with each step.
“It is inappropriate for my employees to see you here dressed like that.” He didn’t bother to point. When she did not answer, he forced a shrug. “I must assume that trouble has befallen Gan or that he is otherwise detained. What is done is done, Lady.”
“I will send the construct to fetch him.”
“No.” Charoth leaned his hands against the desk as if weary. “I will not risk giving up any of our defenses now. All resources must remain. The nimblewright stays with us.” He gestured to the factory doors through the wall. “When all have departed, the doors will be sealed. My sentries will have to suffice.”
“So be it,” Mova said. “But I am anxious to begin.”
Charoth nodded his head, then placed his gloved hands upon the surface of the glass table and looked to the withered shape in the adjoining throne. Without turning to the hulking shadow in the corner of the room, he spoke.
“Master Rhazan, it is time.”
Soneste stepped out into the riverside wind, which soothed her mind even as it chilled her skin. The sun had already dropped below the cliffs, tingeing the sky violet in its wake. Thoughts of home returned. She couldn’t be farther from it now.
She looked down at the dreamlily in her palm, turning the vial over in her hands to watch the lustrous substance swirl. For her, dreamlily had tasted like the sweet redeye berry wine her father had shared with her on the last day she’d seen him alive.
The drug was an insidious substance, a nepenthe for forgetting. Soneste had used it herself on several occasions in the dream parlors of Sharn and had purchased some to take with her. She’d told her friends that it was for research; if she was going to track down sellers of such contraband, she wanted to know their experience. She’d told herself the same thing. She did not tell them of how she’d like to forget the uglier sides of Sharn, to forget how much she missed her father or neglected her mother. It was just one small secret in a city built on them.
The hatch opened behind her. She slipped the dreamlily back into her pocket as Tallis joined her at the railing.
“Do you really intend to give it to him?” he asked.
She thought of little Vestra and her stuffed badger. At least Soneste had only lost her father, not her whole life like Gamnon’s children. “No.”
The whistling wind filled the empty silence.
“This was my last sanctuary,” he said at last, thumping the metal grate beneath them with his foot.
Soneste nodded. “It seems I’m on your side now too.”
Tallis touched her hand where it gripped the rail, only for a moment. “For what it’s worth, thank you. I’d probably be dead now if you hadn’t helped me escape.”
“We’re even, then.”
“I think you’re right. The Brelish royals are the mark,” Tallis said soberly. “They have been all along. Me and Lenrik, mere scapegoats. Distractions for you and the Ministry to waste its time on. Host! Before I went to the Market, I actually crossed paths with Princess Borina on the street. She was guarded by the Conqueror’s Host and a couple of bone knights. Security has tightened here, a consequence of Gamnon’s death.”
Soneste nodded. “If the changeling is telling the truth-and I’m sure he is-we know why Charoth wants the city’s security shuffled around. When I first arrived, Hyran assured me that General Thauram was assembling more personnel to guard Prince Halix and Princess Borina.”
“I have my own fight with the good general,” Tallis remarked, “but he’s loyal to Kaius. He wouldn’t betray his king or his nation. If he brought in any of Charoth’s hirelings, he did so unaware.”
“This is why I need to go back to the Ministry.” Soneste gripped the metal rail. “The incident at the rail station was probably a ruse. The Halix there might well have been one of Charoth’s changelings, meant to distract the Lions while the real Halix is captured elsewhere.”