“Yes.”
“So you’ve drawn the obvious conclusion.”
“I’m glad it’s obvious to you, too, or I’d have to wonder if paranoia were contagious.”
“It’s obvious. Any idea how they’re going to do it?”
“Not yet.”
“What is this silver tiassa?”
“I don’t know anything about its history or properties, if that’s what you’re asking. It’s something Vlad used in a caper a few years ago. Before we were married, in fact. So far as I know, it doesn’t actually do anything. I wouldn’t mind seeing it again.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. It was pretty.”
“And it reminds you of Vlad.”
“This is a lovely room. Is the still-life new?”
“Cawti—”
She sighed. “I’m not the Countess of Whitecrest.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Everything I do does not, in fact, revolve around the guy I used to live with.”
Norathar stared at her. “Where would you get the idea that I thought it did?”
“All right. It was a strange conversation with the Countess. I mean, while we were riding over. Nothing significant, just strange.”
“It must have been.”
“Have you met László?”
“The Empress’s … I mean, the Easterner?”
“Yes.”
“Sure, we’ve met.”
“He’s one of the finest masters of witchcraft the world has ever seen. Ever. He has two familiars, which as far as I know has never … he has extended his life for hundreds of years. You can’t do that with witchcraft. He—”
“What’s your point?”
“He’s the Empress’s lover.”
“Just because everyone sees him—”
“No, no. That’s how he thinks of himself. That’s the most important thing there is to him.”
“That’s very odd.”
“Yeah. And from some of the things the Countess said, it sounds like she’s another. Maybe. I don’t know, I could be wrong. But it sounds like what matters to her is that she’s married to the captain. And then you said—”
“Oh. I see.”
“You know about my work, even if we don’t talk about it.”
“Yes.”
“Whatever you think about it, that matters.”
“I know it matters to you.”
“No, it—all right, we won’t get into that. My point is—”
“I’m way ahead of you, sister. I’m sorry.”
“But you know why Vlad is on the run.”
“I know.”
“I hate it that he threw everything away to save me.”
“I know.”
“I hate it that he saved me.”
“I know.”
“I hate it that I have to feel grateful to him.”
“I know.”
“And now—”
“Yes. I understand.”
“Are you in, Norathar?”
“Is that a stupid question, or a formality?”
“A formality.”
“I’m in.”
Cawti smiled. “Thank you.”
“Do you have a plan?”
“Of course.”
“All right. This is your score. What’s the first step?”
“A visit to the Empress. You can get me in?”
“Of course. I’m a princess.”
“Hey, it’s got to be good for something.”
“Are we in a hurry?”
“I don’t know. Best to assume we are.”
“Give me a moment.”
“Of course.”
Norathar vanished into her dressing room, and emerged five minutes later wearing a cloak of Jhereg gray over her clothing, which was the black and silver of the House of the Dragon. She wore a sword belt; she took her sword from where it hung on the wall and slid it into the scabbard.
“Ready,” she said.
“Like the bad old days,” said Cawti.
“For me, they were good.”
“They were that, too. Let’s go. I’ll fill you in as we walk.”
It was only a couple hundred yards from the House of the Dragon to the entrance to the Imperial Wing.
As they passed through on their way to the throne room, Cawti said, “You saw the looks?”
“The tall one tried to keep his face blank. I think he may have sustained a permanent injury.”
“I may have sustained a permanent injury trying not to laugh at him.”
“The Dragon Heir and an Easterner, both wearing Jhereg cloaks. I don’t think I blame them.”
“Nor do I. But I am tempted to go out the Liscom Door, circle around, and do it again.”
“Aren’t we in a hurry?”
“I suppose so.”
They had no trouble until they reached the Last Antechamber, where the pair of guardsmen seemed to have some trouble admitting Cawti. Norathar was about to demand to see the captain when the door opened from within and Lord Summer announced that the Empress wished to see the Princess Norathar and her guest. Summer guided them through the throne room and out the Orb Door and conducted them just a few steps down a wide hallway, where their guide opened a pale blue door and stepped aside for them.
Cawti felt a quick thump from her heart, and silently cursed herself for it.
They entered. Her Majesty was standing next to a chair of the same shade of blue as the door; the Orb, circling her head, was a light shade of green. Facing Her Majesty was the Countess of Whitecrest. Cawti and Norathar bowed.
“Please sit,” said Her Majesty. They all did so.
Old eyes in a young face, thought Cawti.
“Lady Taltos, Princess Norathar.” She smiled without warmth. “Let’s hear it.”
She didn’t offer us refreshment. I think I won’t correct her about my name.
“May I ask Your Majesty a question?”
“Princess, if this concerns the threat from the Jenoine, ceremony is a waste of time. If it doesn’t, this whole conversation is a waste of time. Ask your question.”
“In the matter of finding the silver tiassa, have you had an offer of assistance from a Jhereg?”
The Empress briefly appeared startled, started to speak, stopped, and said, “Not assistance; a request to observe the process.”
“On what basis?”
“A legal one.”
“Your Majesty?”
“Using the Orb to locate a citizen is illegal except for ‘pressing Imperial reasons,’ which means whatever the Emperor wants it to. So legally, any House that wishes may send a witness.”
“So,” said Norathar. “The Jhereg wants a witness. No one else?”
“The Athyra, but they always do. Locating someone via the Orb is unusual, and they like to send someone to study the spell.”
“Always,” repeated the Princess. “How many times has this been done?”
The Empress hesitated, presumably consulting the Orb, then said, “This will be the thirtieth.”
Cawti looked at Norathar, who was looking back at her. They nodded to each other.
“Well?” said the Empress. “What is it?”
“I’m afraid,” said Norathar, “that Your Majesty has been duped.”
The Orb darkened. “I was beginning to get that feeling. Daro?”
“As I told Your Majesty, it was a request from Cawti. I trust her.”
“You do?”
“Conditionally.”
The Empress looked at Norathar. “Is it about the silver tiassa?”
“No, it is about the individual who doesn’t have it.”
The Imperial eyes turned to Cawti. “Your husband.”
Cawti nodded.
“We learn of a Jenoine invasion, we suddenly learn of an artifact that can help, then we learn that it is in the possession of your husband.”