“There he is!” sighed Shiv with relief, pushing through the throng toward a stout man with a pale face and stooped shoulders. As we drew nearer I was a little startled to realize this Kerrit was scarcely a handful of years older than myself or Shiv, rather than half a generation as I had first thought. He was deep in conversation with a mild-faced little man in a rather dusty and faded robe; I wondered how this ancient acolyte managed to avoid being forcibly taken to a tailor by the other elegantly turned-out priests.
“Shivvalan!” Kerrit smiled at our mage with broad recognition. “I’ll be with you in a moment.”
He turned to bid the old priest a sincere farewell and to tuck a sheaf of notes into a smart leather satchel slung over one shoulder.
“So, what brings you to the delta city?” He made his way through the press of people, pushing without compunction or apology.
“Can we talk somewhere a little more private?”
I glanced at Shiv in some surprise; anyone trying to eavesdrop on us here would either have to be standing under our noses or rely on us shouting at the tops of our voices.
“This way.” Kerrit led us to a comparatively quiet corner behind a representation of Saedrin at the door between the worlds. This offered excellent cover for anyone who might want to creep up and overhear our discussions, but before I could move to watch the approach Halice had stepped forward to deal with it. I added this to the growing list of things I was going to have to discuss with Shiv before he drove the rest of us demented with his growing paranoia.
“So, do you have a letter from Planir for me?” Kerrit’s eyes were still on the icon of Maewelin, his mind clearly busy elsewhere.
“No. We’re here on the trail of some Ice Islanders who’ve stolen some artifacts,” said Shiv baldly.
That got Kerrit’s undivided attention. “They’re here, in the city?”
Shiv nodded. “But they’re using some kind of aetheric influence to evade our scrying.”
“Are they now?” Kerrit breathed, eyes bright. “That’s something I’d—”
“Can you help Shiv get around it?” interrupted Livak as she saw the bookish mage’s expression grow remote with speculation.
“Pardon? No, not as such, my dear. You see, being mage-born myself, aetheric incantations are ineffective when I try them.”
I could see that Livak’s patience, never very long, was rapidly shortening.
“Do you have any knowledge that one of us could use to try and counter whatever it is they are doing?” I had some difficulty keeping my own tone level.
A slight frown wrinkled Kerrit’s bland forehead. “I’d need to see what they were doing, really, but I think there are a few things we could try.”
“Can you come with us?” asked Shiv politely.
“It’s not really very convenient.” Kerrit looked distinctly put out. “You see that old priest, he has six of what he calls miracles that he claims he can use to heal illness, old wounds, even some birth defects. I really must get some more details from him, try to—”
“What about broken bones?” Halice broke in suddenly. I felt a pang as I saw the desperate hope on her plain face.
Kerrit looked momentarily puzzled until he registered her twisted leg and crutch. “He didn’t say so. The thing is, Shiv, he seems to be able to make effective incantations on every attempt. I really do need to find out more about him, discover what he’s doing, examine some of his cures and see how valid they are.”
“He’s something special, then, the old man?” Livak’s curiosity was inevitably getting the better of her. At least that was keeping her temper reined in.
“Oh yes,” Kerrit assured her, his expression animated. “You could take ten priests from here and ask them all to perform the same rite and you’d have anything from five to ten different results. I’m trying to find out why.”
“I appreciate that’s important—” began Shiv.
“I don’t suppose the old priest is going anywhere,” I spoke over him firmly. “The Elietimm might well do so. I’m sure you can spare us the rest of the day to help with something so crucial to Planir’s work.”
The idea that he might find himself answering to the Archmage evidently weighed a coin or two with Kerrit. “Very true, very true.”
“Let’s go then.”
I stepped forward to help Halice force a way toward the doors. As I did so a disturbance in the corner of my eye made me turn my head. Some way off in the press of people a tall man in a dark cloak was caught up with a fat woman who seemed determined to prevent him getting ahead of her. As Viltred looked, the man stared past me, straight at the old wizard, recognition evident and expression hostile. He pushed the fat woman aside, ignoring her cries, and headed straight for Viltred.
“Viltred, do you know that man?” I nodded my head in what I hoped wasn’t too obvious a gesture.
“No.” Viltred frowned and fear flared in his faded eyes. “I’ve never seen him before.”
I saw the gray-cloaked man looking to his left and right as he came toward us; following his gaze with growing apprehension, I saw that he was not alone. I spotted three more of the gray-clad men and as one forced his way past a group of children, his cloak was swept back to reveal a familiar black livery.
“Elietimm,” I concluded tersely. “We need to get out of here now.”
“This way.” Kerrit turned and hurried along behind the line of icons, leading the five of us to a small door presumably for the use of the priests.
I found a knot of fear was tying itself in my stomach and fought to calm my suddenly ragged breathing. Silently cursing the memory of Elietimm magic that could reduce me to this, I glanced at Livak and was at least a little comforted to see she too was unnaturally pale and gripping her sword hilt with white knuckles.
“Can you hide us?” I snapped at Shiv.
“Give me a moment.” He paused and I caught a flicker of blue light between his fingers as he closed his eyes in concentration. “Viltred, can you help me?”
The mages stood, working together with some difficulty as they had to conceal the magelight that manipulating the elements usually called forth. I watched with Livak and Halice as the gray-cloaked men began to move in a line down the length of the temple, searching for us like beaters springing game for a hawk.
“There, that should shield us.”
The air around us shimmered, like haze on sun-scorched sand, and we moved cautiously into the open, heading for the open door. I held my breath as a thin-faced Elietimm scanned the crowd encircling us, his eyes passing over the wizards. I was about to breathe a sigh of relief when the man’s gaze returned to us; he started visibly and evidently saw right through the concealing spell. The Elietimm looked around for his colleagues and caught the gaze of one. I felt certain some sort of communication must have passed between them; the second man started to push his way unerringly in our direction, despite having had no clear sight of us because of the statues in the way.
“They’ve seen us. Move.” My hand hovered over my sword hilt but I really didn’t want to draw a blade in here, not knowing how the priests would react. The last thing we needed was to be held up by an outraged religious rabble.
“Curse it.” Shiv dropped his spell with a muttered handful of obscenities and began forcing a path to the door. Seeing him abandon stealth, the gray-cloaked men did the same. Taking the rear guard I heard gasps of outrage and then screams as one of the Elietimm answered a priest’s remonstrance with the metallic rasp of a drawn sword. Looking back I saw people hurrying to get out of the way, but the crowd was sufficiently thick that we still made it to the door ahead of our would-be captors.