“He won’t hear about it from me.” Livak slipped her hand in mine as we went down the stairs, sympathy in her comforting grip. She knew better than anyone else what a foul invasion that cursed sorcery could be. Shiv, being unconscious for much of our captivity by the Elietimm, had escaped having his memory turned inside out by the bastards but, as Livak had memorably commented, no bodily rape could ever equal that violation of the mind.
Mellitha was working her way through a stack of letters at the breakfast table, smiling with satisfaction over some, frowning at others in a manner that I suspected promised retribution of special significance. She was dressed today in the sober style befitting her position, formidable in dark-blue linen, high-necked and firmly laced.
“I sent someone out to make enquiries yesterday,” she announced without preamble as Shiv entered the room. “It’ll take a couple of days to weave the whole tapestry, but I have heard the market in Formalin antiquities is unusually busy; prices are rising and dealers are starting to look around for anything connected to the House of Nemith the Last. I’ve let it be known I’d like to be made aware of anyone who’s buying and of anyone new in the city who’s selling.”
“You’re sure no one will think it strange that you’re asking questions about these people?” Viltred was evidently still worried.
“I’m putting together a tender for a new contract at the moment,” Mellitha reassured him. “Everyone in the business will be asking questions about anyone and everything.”
“We can ask around as well.” Livak looked at Halice, who nodded her agreement, temporarily silenced by a mouthful of excellent, soft white bread and glossy cherry preserve.
“No, we don’t want to draw attention to ourselves,” frowned Shiv, his fingers busy reducing a sweet roll to an inedible heap of sticky fragments. “I don’t want anyone going off on their own just yet, either.”
Livak scowled. “I thought the whole point of my being here was getting Viltred’s little trinkets back! I’ve got the contacts to track down the Elietimm for you and I’m the one who’ll be cracking the shutters to get them back. If I’m risking my neck for Planir again, I’m the one who’s going to be cracking the whip as well.”
“When we’re looking at trying to take back the goods, then of course you’ll be the one to do the planning.” Shiv pushed away his plate. “There’s someone I want to talk to before then, someone who might be able to help in other ways.”
“I take it you mean Kerrit Osier?” Mellitha finished her meal and her hand hovered over the silver bell by her glass. “He’ll be in the Temple today. He’s got an appointment with the priestess of Maewelin.”
Shiv stared at her. “How did you know who I meant?”
Mellitha stood up and pulled an ocher silk shawl over her shoulders, the splash of color adding an interesting touch to her outfit.
“I keep a weather eye on mages visiting the city.” She smiled at Shiv with complacent superiority. “I like to know what stones they’re turning up, just in case something interesting comes to light. He’s been here since Equinox, going through the Archive and talking to the older priests.”
She looked around the table, including us all in her commanding gaze. “Tell the servants if you want anything; I will be in my offices until the noon chime and then I have meetings with some of the magistrates. I will be dining out but I should be back around sunset to dress and I’ll let you know what I’ve found out.”
She departed with a swirl of her lace-trimmed underskirt and the rest of us turned to Shiv, who looked back defensively.
“So what are our orders?”
I couldn’t tell if there was a taint of sarcasm in Halice’s words or if I was just imagining it. No matter; from Livak’s expression, which she was not even bothering to conceal, Shiv was spending from a very lean purse if he was expecting that pair to continue taking orders from him without question. I would have to find time to talk to them each about it before our fragile alliance was grounded on disagreement.
“So who is this Kerrit?” I passed Livak some fruit and handed Shiv a fresh roll.
“He’s been investigating magic in the Formalin Empire for Planir. I don’t know much about that side of the work, but Kerrit’s been visiting all the major temples that survived the Dark Generations. He’s been looking into what the priests call miracles since that seems to be the only survival of aetheric magic that we have on this side of the ocean.”
“Sideshow chicanery,” sniffed Viltred.
Shiv ignored him. “He may be able to explain why we can’t scry for the Elietimm; he may know how to rework the spells to get around the aetheric influence.”
I could see that Livak looked completely unconvinced, but as she went to argue I laid my hand on her thigh under the table. She closed her mouth to give me a quick glance of warning before opening it again to say what she intended to Shiv.
“We’ll see what this Kerrit has to say for himself, but after that I’m going to contact some of my own acquaintances to get a scent on the Elietimm for myself. We can’t waste time like this, Shiv; for all we know they could be planning to leave today and then what will you have to tell Planir?”
From Shiv’s unhappy expression, that shot certainly struck home.
“Let’s get moving, then,” he snapped uncharacteristically. “I’ll meet you at the gates.”
Halice rang the little silver bell and servants appeared to clear the table. We all dispersed to our rooms; I filled my purse and then stood, the sheathed sword in my hand, wondering whether or not to belt it on.
“Ready?” Livak appeared in the doorway.
“Does one wear a sword before noon in Relshaz?” I tried to make light of my indecision.
“This one does.” Livak tapped the short sword on her own waist. “She also keeps plenty of daggers about her person as a rule, but I’m not usually paying calls around the Temple so I’m keeping it to two this morning.”
I answered her grin with a half-smile of my own and buckled the sword-belt, following her down the broad marble stairs. I was letting this whole business with the sword unnerve me unnecessarily, I decided; it wasn’t as if I could remember any of these cursed dreams anyway. Planir had been wasting his time, trying to manipulate Messire and myself. If it drew the Elietimm to us, well, what could happen in broad daylight with half a hundred people within arm’s length? At least we would have found them and I couldn’t see Livak or Halice losing their scent, given such a chance.
We made our way through the swarming city, now thronged with people trying to go about their morning business and we were soon separated, Shiv escorting Viltred and the rest of us tailing some way behind, Halice finding it slow going with her crutch in such a crowd. I was enjoying the sights and sounds of the city, but I could see Shiv was chafing at the frequent delays as we were held up by traffic, the sheer press of bodies around the footbridges over the canals and, somewhat to my surprise, old acquaintances of Viltred’s greeting him. Livak and I took the opportunity of one such delay to buy a handful of chicken bits from an old man with a cook-pot bubbling on a charcoal brazier; the taste of green oil was a welcome reminder of home after a season or more eating food fried in mutton fat or worse. I glared at a woman as she rammed me in the ribs with a basket and I nearly dropped the rough reed paper wrapped around the meat, but all I got was a dismissive sneer in thick Relshazri for a reply.
“Where do all these people live?” I muttered to Livak as we were halted yet again and I picked the last of the chicken from the wrapping.
“The landlords pack them in like salted fish.” She licked her fingers and pointed down a side alley, where a double line of tenements was tall enough to close the sunlight from the cobbles.
I blinked as I counted six levels of windows. “That’s only mud brick and wood, isn’t it?” I shook my head. “My father wouldn’t risk building that high with the finest Bremilayne stone.”