As soon as the senator touched the stone, Ktandeo scowled at the sorceress. “I’m certain you know what you’ve done.”
Sadira was not sure whether he was referring to her efforts to arrange a meeting with Rikus or to bringing Agis to the rendezvous point, but she nodded anyway. To the Veiled Alliance, both were grave offenses. “When you hear what Agis has to say, you’ll be glad I did.”
“You’d better hope that’s so,” Ktandeo replied. “Otherwise-”
Agis interrupted the old man’s threat. “Something terrible is about to happen in Tyr, and only you can stop it.”
Before Ktandeo could reply, the red-bearded barman slipped past the curtain with a carafe of thick red wine and three mugs. Agis reached into his purse and withdrew several coins, but the old man laid his cane across the noble’s wrist.
“I wouldn’t drink what your coins buy,” the sorcerer said.
“You can drink what Agis offers you,” Sadira snapped, laying a hand on the senator’s firmly muscled knee. During the last two days, the sorceress and the noble had not spent more than ten minutes apart, and she had come to know him well. “He’s a better man than his peers.”
“Is my hearing bad?” Ktandeo asked, sticking a thick finger into his ear as if to clean it. “I could have sworn I just heard a woman who kills templars defending a slave-holder’s reputation.”
Sadira’s cheeks reddened. “The men I killed were petty, murderous scum, and they would have been the same whether they were free or slave,” she said. “Agis is a good man, and being born into a corrupt nobility doesn’t change that.”
“Whether he’s noble or slave is all the same to me,” said the barman, holding out his hand. “His money is what matters.”
Agis dropped a few coins into the server’s hand. The barman examined the coins briefly, then returned a small bronze disk to Agis. “If you think I’ll take this instead of good Tyrian currency, you’re mistaken. That’s no coin I’ve ever seen.”
Agis slipped the disk into his robe pocket with an air of chagrin, then retrieved two proper coins to replace it. “I’ve no idea how it came to be in my purse. Please accept my apologies.”
As the burly man left, Ktandeo raised an eyebrow in Sadira’s direction. “Didn’t you storm out of here the other night because you love that gladiator?”
“What if I did?” Sadira demanded.
Ktandeo waved his cane in Agis’s direction. “You’re talking as though you care for this one, too.”
“I might,” Sadira answered, giving Agis a warm smile. He returned her gesture by looking slightly distressed. “What’s wrong with that?”
Sadira understood why Agis and her contact seemed disturbed, but she did not share their prudish attitudes. Nothing in her background had taught her to consider romance an exclusive commitment. Tithian had used her mother as breeding stock, and Catalyna, the woman who had taught her the art of seduction, had warned the young sorceress against becoming attached to a single man.
“Perhaps we can discuss my visit with the high templar?” Agis suggested.
“That’s what you came here for,” Ktandeo grumbled, eyeing Sadira coldly. “And it had better be important.”
As Agis recounted his meeting with Tithian, Ktandeo grumbled about the liberties Sadira had taken by recruiting the noble in the Alliance’s name. He frowned at her when Agis revealed that the high templar knew the Veiled Ones wanted to meet with Rikus. However, when the senator described the pyramid and balls he had seen in Tithian’s memory, Ktandeo’s mood changed from one of petulance to one of apprehensive distraction.
“Tithian knows too much about what you two have been doing,” Ktandeo said, his eyes thoughtfully fixed on the pommel of his cane.
“There’s no doubt Tithian has a spy close to one of us,” Agis said.
“It’s your manservant, Agis. I’m sure of it,” Sadira added.
The noble disguised his reaction to the statement by lifting his mug and taking a swallow of wine. This was one area where they were not in complete agreement. When Agis had gone to meet Tithian two days ago, Caro had excused himself on the pretense of relieving his bladder. He had not returned until just before Agis left the stadium. Even then, Sadira had been suspicious of the dwarf’s prolonged absence. When she had heard about the interruption that ruined the assault on the high templar’s mind, she had immediately concluded that the dwarf was a spy and pulled Agis aside to warn him.
“The dwarf who was with you at the slave auction?” Ktandeo demanded.
Agis put his wine aside with a sour face. “When you look at what Tithian knows and what Caro could have told him, it seems likely,” Agis said. “I still find it difficult to accept. Caro’s been loyal to my family for two hundred years.”
“You’re overestimating the strength of a slave’s loyalty,” Sadira said.
“Perhaps, but Caro’s focus is serving the Asticles family. Do you know what it would mean if he betrayed me?”
“Eternal damnation seems a high price to pay for betrayal,” Ktandeo agreed. “Still, Athas is full of dwarven banshees, and we have no way of knowing what Tithian may have offered him. I hope you had enough sense not to tell your servant where you are now.”
Agis nodded. “I sent him home the same day of my meeting with Tithian. He hasn’t seen us since.”
“Let’s hope so,” Ktandeo answered. He stared at his cane’s pommel. “What you saw in Tithian’s memory is worrisome.” He looked to Sadira. “I owe you an apology, my dear. You were right-nothing is more important than killing Kalak, and as soon as possible.”
“Why?” Sadira and Agis asked the question simultaneously.
Ktandeo raised his hand and shook his head. “Let us pray you never learn the answer,” he said, switching his gaze to Agis. “Now, what do you make of Tithian’s proposal? Surely you don’t think the high templar can be trusted?”
“Only to do what is best for himself,” Agis replied. “But I do think he’s sincere about working with you.”
“Then you’re a fool,” answered Ktandeo.
“Perhaps not,” Agis countered. “Kalak has put Tithian in a hopeless situation. He has no choice except to turn to the king’s enemies for help.”
Sadira added, “At the same time, he warned Agis to watch himself, so-”
A handful of muffled cries sounded in the plaza outside the wineshop, interrupting Sadira. Though the curtain remained drawn, it was not thick enough to muffle the panicked voices. The half-elf was rising to investigate the noise when the barman stuck his head around the edge of the curtain. In his hand, he held the satchel in which Sadira had been carrying her spellbook when Radurak captured her.
“Templars!” the barman hissed. He shoved the satchel into her hands and left.
Sadira turned to Ktandeo. “Where did he get this?” she gasped, slinging it over her shoulder. She was so delighted to have it back that she was hardly concerned about the templars.
“From Radurak, of course,” the old man answered curtly. “There’s no time to discuss that now. Tithian’s offer was bait, and you two swallowed it!”
The sorcerer tipped the stone bench onto its side. Beneath it, a cobweb-filled stairway descended into the murky earth at a precariously steep angle. To Sadira’s elven vision, the first few feet of the stone stairs were outlined in blue tones emitted by the cool rock. Beyond that, the passage was as dark to her as it was to her human companions.
“Where does this go?” Agis demanded.
Before anyone could answer, the harsh, demanding voice of a templar sounded outside the curtain. Without waiting for Ktandeo’s command, the half-elf took Agis’s hand and led him into the stairwell. As the old sorcerer followed, he pulled the bench back into place, plunging the stairwell into darkness. The red hues of her companions’ warm bodies and the blue hues of the cold stone provided all the illumination Sadira needed, but she knew her human friends would be completely blind in the darkness.
“I can cast a light spell,” she whispered.