“South Adrilankha. I have the directions.”
“We’ll have to clear it,” said Wyder. “And get horses.”
“Oh, would you?”
“I’ll ask.”
“That would be splendid.”
“Yes, my lady.”
An hour later they were in South Adrilankha. This part of the city is part of my county, she reminded herself as she worked to keep the distaste off her face.
As they turned onto Elm, she said, “This neighborhood isn’t all that bad, really.”
The long-haired Dragonlord, whose name Daro discovered was Sahomi, said, “I was stationed in South Adrilankha for a couple of years. This is one of the better parts. Clean. They pick up after themselves, at least sometimes. The streets aren’t always full of—”
“Sahomi!” said Wyder.
Sahomi coughed. “Sorry, m’lady.”
“I thought it was the horse,” she said.
“Beg pardon?”
“Never mind,” she said, keeping her smile to herself.
“This is the house,” said Wyder. “If my lady will be willing to wait a moment—”
“No,” she said, studying the house. “I’ll do this myself. Wait here.”
“My lady—”
“Sahomi, explain who I am. You are under my orders. You’ll wait here. If things go wrong, and I die and this destroys your careers, you have my apologies.”
“Yes, my lady,” said Sahomi.
“Amazing you can speak so clearly with your teeth clenched like that,” said Daro as she dismounted.
She strode up to the little house, noting clear signs of a child’s presence in the holes dug in the yard and the toys scattered around it. She stood in front of the wooden door and clapped. She heard movement through the door, but it didn’t open. She clapped again.
She heard approaching footsteps and the door opened. A small, dark-haired Eastern woman stood before her, frowning and looking wary.
“You are Cawti?” said Daro.
She watched the Easterner’s eyes focus behind her, on the two Phoenix Guards who remained mounted in the street. “Who are you?” she said.
“I am called Daro, Countess of Whitecrest.”
The Easterner took a step back, as if startled. “Are you indeed! Yes, I am Cawti.” She hesitated, then took another step back. “Please, come in.”
Then Daro in turn hesitated, but from what she could see, it looked clean, so she took a step forward.
“Sit, if you wish. May I get you something? Wine? Klava?”
“I’m fine.” The room looked clean, but still.
A small boy came into the room; Daro had no idea about what the age would be in an Easterner, but he was just over knee-high, and able to walk well enough on his own. Cawti picked him up, gave him a hug, and set him down again. “Go play outside, hun. In the back yard.”
“Why in back?”
“I’ll tell you later.”
“Why can’t you tell me now?”
“Because it would be impolite to say in front of our guest.”
“Why?”
“Vlad, make your bow and go to the back yard.”
“Yes, Mama.”
When the boy had left, Cawti said, “What does my lady wish?”
Daro wasn’t certain, but she thought she heard a certain emphasis on “my lady.” She said, “He calls you Mama.”
Cawti tilted her head, as if to say, “I can’t imagine you’d say such a thing.”
“I’m sorry,” said Daro, feeling herself blushing. “My son addresses me more formally, and I suddenly found myself wishing—never mind. I believe I will sit after all. Klava would be lovely.”
“Of course.”
Daro seated herself on a stuffed chair while Cawti went through an archway into what was presumably the kitchen. The room was small, and tastefully sparse save for a surprising number of books on two floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Daro resisted the temptation to inspect them.
Cawti returned with only one glass. It’s going to be like that, is it? thought Daro.
Cawti seated herself at one end of a plain brown couch and said, “Now, to what do I owe the honor?”
The stress on the word “honor” was just barely there. Daro felt a flash of anger, but sipped her klava until it had passed. It was good klava. She said, “You are married to a certain Vladimir Taltos, are you not?”
Cawti stared at her until it was almost rude, then looked away. “We are separated.”
“I’m sorry. I should have realized; I heard that he has left town. Do you know where he is?”
The Easterner’s surprise at the question seemed genuine. “My lady, do you think that, if I knew, I would simply tell you?”
Daro frowned. “He is in hiding?”
“Yes, he certainly is.”
“I didn’t know. Who is he hiding from?”
“The Jhereg, my lady. For years now. They want him very badly.”
“Why?”
Cawti looked away. “You would have to ask them, Countess.”
“I see. Then perhaps you could tell me something else. Are you familiar with an artifact, supposed to be of divine origin, called the silver tiassa?”
“I imagine,” said Cawti, “that you already know I’m familiar with it. I hadn’t been aware that it was of divine origin.”
“Perhaps it isn’t. It is being sought by the Empire. I come to you because it is rumored to be in the possession of Lord Taltos, and because—” She hesitated. “And because there is something about this that feels wrong.”
The Easterner’s features remained impassive. “My lady, is there a reason you would expect me to help you?”
“You must have heard of the threat to the city.”
“I’ve heard of it, yes.”
“There is a story that this artifact can help. In fact, can stop it.”
“I see.”
“I assume whatever your resentment of me in particular, or the aristocracy in general, or the Empire in total, or whatever it is you resent, you are not anxious for the Jenoine to replace the Empire, or kill us all, whichever they’ll do?”
“Let me think about that while you recover your breath,” she said.
“Take your time.”
“I hadn’t realized it showed.”
“Your resentment?”
“I’m not sure that’s the right word, but yes.”
“Whatever the word is, yes, it shows.”
“No, I wouldn’t care for a Jenoine victory.”
“So, will you help?”
“My lady, you said you heard a story. How reliable is it?”
“I’ve no idea. Why?”
“Yes, I’m familiar with the item. Or, at least, with a small tiassa made out of silver that could be what you’re referring to. But I had no idea there was anything to it other than a nice piece of silver-work. It seems unlikely.”
Daro nodded. “It seems unlikely to me, too.”
“It does? Then why are you here?”
“Because there’s something going on that I don’t understand, and it intrigues me, and worries me.”
Cawti sat back on her couch. “I see,” she said.
“You’re going to have to trust me,” said Daro.
“Which is why you came to my home, rather than summoning me?”
Daro nodded.
“But you brought a pair of Phoenix Guards with you.”
Daro nodded again.
“In fact,” said the Easterner, “I don’t trust you. But I was a Jhereg once—I’m used to working with people I don’t trust.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“I don’t know. Give me the details. I’m no Tiassa, but I’ve been known to have an idea now and then.”