A Parliament of Owls

  Owl's smile was a little bitter. "Reinforcements are on their way." Are we safe to talk, he sent to Lynx, or are there people who might overhear?

  Safe, I'd say, if we keep our voices low.

  "You know about Kerigden, don't you?"

  "That he's held in a trance by a death spell that Thyzhecci wrought with the blood of a Slum child?" Ferret summarized. "Yes. How is he?"

  "Angry. Impatient. Fretting to be loosed. And utterly helpless. He can swallow—and talk mind to mind. I know Donkey sent addresses of four houses down for you to check; did you find out anything useful? And did he tell you why we wanted to know about them?"

  "Beyond the information that it had something to do with Kerigden's situation, no one told me anything specific. As for useful information, I'm not sure. One of the houses belongs to the Dark Lady's Temple; one belongs to House Ambhere; one belongs to an Amartan merchant named Lerestallon Antarines—and his wife, who is a Glakhyre cousin with social ambitions; the fourth house is one Anthagh owns and rents out—and the current tenant is an unknown, even to him."

  "How unlike Anthagh," Owl remarked. "It sounds as though we might be able to eliminate House Ambhere's building—or at least bump it to the bottom of the priority list—but I'd say the other three warrant further investigation. Let me give you the information Donkey omitted." He related the gist of his encounter with the goddess Talyene, paying special attention to what she had told him about the ways to break the spell that bound Kerigden, the cage of brambles, and the multiple rooms fortified as traps. While he was talking, Marhysse and Khofyn arrived. As they pulled up chairs and sat down, Owl went on to describe this morning's experiences in the Windbringer's Temple, and his surmise that Morekheth was the second Adept.

  "Morekheth," Sharkbait mused when Owl had finished. "That's interesting. I've spent no little time and effort trying to track the sneak Vekh's contacts—he's one of Khorvan Nakhar's, who disappeared about the time the Rusty Anchor burned—but the only thing I found was that two days before his disappearance, Vekh bought a rather large quantity of ghyar. My informant speculated from the size of the purchase that Vekh was planning to try his hand at dealing; when he disappeared, my informant assumed Vekh had unwisely tried his experiment in some other organization's territory. But it occurred to me that Vekh might just as easily have been the agent who bought the drugs that felled the Admiral's crew. I have not been able to trace where he got the money—or to whom he delivered the drugs—but Morekheth makes sense. He'd be placed so that he could suborn one of Varykh's men, or substitute one of his own; and he certainly wouldn't have any difficulties paying for the ghyar."

  "It won't convince the Watch," Owl said, "but it sounds plausible to me."

  "It might convince the Watch," Sharkbait remarked caustically, "but even if it did, the judge will have been bought by the Dhenykhare."

  "Sharkbait, don't start," Ferret pleaded. "We all know the courts are a travesty. Owl, do you want us to go looking for this cage of brambles?"

  "Yes, but don't take senseless risks. Remember, there are two Adepts in this, and Thyzhecci, who—for all I can't bear the woman—is no fool. But if you were able to retrieve the thing, we could free Kerigden from the spell."

  "So." Owl could picture Ferret's grin from her tone. "You want me to snatch the bait and spring the trap without getting caught in it. Sounds like fun. Wasn't I just saying, Sharkbait, that I hadn't had a good challenge in too long?"

  "I'm serious about the 'don't get caught' part," Owl warned. "If you get into trouble, I haven't got any more stones sacred to the Windbringer."

  "We'll be careful," Sharkbait assured him. "But speaking of careful, Owl, what are you going to do to safeguard yourself from Morekheth? If he knows you know he's the other Adept, won't that put you in more danger?"

  "I don't see how. The list of people who would cheerfully arrange my demise if they could get away with it is growing hourly; but even for Morekheth, there's still the problem of arranging the fatal incident."

  "And getting away, afterward," Lynx put in. "Sharkbait, what more can you tell me about the rumor I heard about Essekh Glakhyre and Amynne Ykhave?"

  Sharkbait whistled. "You've certainly figured out how to use the rumor mill, Lynx; that was only last night. Someone—probably Essekh—put a note in the message drop I used to use asking Venykhar for an urgent meeting. He had just left the city, so Mouse came instead. They tried—"

  "They? Who?" Lynx interrupted.

  "A liberal mix of Glakhyre and Dhenykhare bodyguards."

  "Is this a usual alliance?" Lynx persisted.

  "No, I wouldn't say so. I thought perhaps the wool clans were trying to curry favor with the shipbuilders."

  "If you were a minor Glakhyre cousin with social ambitions, could the Dhenykhare be helpful to you?"

  "Ah!" Sharkbait exclaimed. "I see where you're going with this, Lynx. Do you think we should nudge the Amartan merchant's house higher on the investigation priorities?"

  "I don't know," she admitted. "But I didn't want the connection to pass without notice."

  "Is Mouse all right?" Owl asked.

  "Yes. They tried to kidnap her, but she was too quick for them. She threw a lamp at Essekh and got away while everyone else was dealing with the threat of fire. I caught up with her at the Trollop and escorted her (with a crew of my best men) back to the palace."

  "Wait," Owl said. "They wanted to kidnap Venykhar—or Mouse? Why?"

  "I surmise that they were hoping to keep me in line with a hostage," Sharkbait replied.

  "But—" An image streaked through Owl's inner sight: Sharkbait in the Ivory Comb, watching from the table in the dim corner. "You were there? What if they'd found you?"

  "They didn't find me. Mouse created her diversion and I slipped away in the confusion. I'd call it blind luck, but that would be rude in the present company."

  Owl smiled dutifully and the subject turned. A short while later, Owl and his retinue rose to go. He had proposed a visit to Mouse at the Free School on the way home, and though even Cezhar had agreed without demur, they wanted to get Owl home before too much longer.

  Ferret and Sharkbait watched their friends depart.

  "Owl's still awfully thin," Sharkbait observed.

  Ferret nodded. "The strain wears on him, too. Maybe if we can find this bramble cage, he'll relax a bit."

  "Yes. But Ferret, I've been thinking. We might have better luck dealing with Thyzhecci—especially if we enlisted Mouse. At least, if we start with the Temple's house, we'd have potentially two routes to success."

  "Yes," Ferret agreed. "And somehow, I'm most leery of Anthagh's house—the one I'm thinking of as the Adept's lair. It is so obviously the most likely place for the bramble cage that I'm suspicious."

  "And the Adept's trap is likely to be the most difficult to elude."

  "I had thought of that, too," Ferret said. "But do you really think Mouse would be a help to us and not a hindrance?"

  "She's quick thinking—and stubborn. She'll go after Thyzhecci on her own if we don't include her in our expedition—and that's surely more dangerous for her."

  "Good point. All right. Why don't you stop by the Free School later on and see whether she's game? We ought not to waste any time getting started on this. If she wants in, get her down here tonight and we'll thrash out a plan."

  "As you command, my sweet thief," Sharkbait responded. "In the meantime, let's have lunch. I could eat a whale."

  Chapter Twenty-six—Warrant

  When they arrived at the Free School, the young girl sitting at the hallway desk told them that Mouse was meeting with someone in her office.

  "Could you tell her I'm here?" Owl asked. "I don't need much of her time, but I'm in something of a hurry."

  The girl bit her lip. "She doesn't like to be interrupted when she's talking with potential patrons—but I know she would want to see you, Owl. Let me go up and ask. Please wait here."

  "Potential patrons," Cezhar repeated sourly. "
If the damned Council Houses weren't so parsimonious, the Emperor could levy a tax and free Mouse from having to waste her time courting philanthropists."

  "It isn't only their avaricious natures, Cezh," Owl returned. "They are terrified that if commoners learn to read, they won't live in such abject poverty and they'll be harder to control. Mouse tells me that Free School graduates easily secure positions as Temple scribes, or merchants' clerks—and that many of them send part of their wages home to their kin. The Free School is changing the Slums—which is the real reason the nobles are against it."

  "I don't know, Owl," Marhysse said. "Sometimes I think the nobles object to anything the Emperor proposes on principle. I can't picture someone like Ymlakh Glakhyre reasoning out the changes a good education could make to a commoner's lot."

  "That's a point, Marhysse," Owl conceded, "but the ones who can reason—like Rhydev Azhere—certainly do their best to pull the strings of the stupid ones." His head lifted as he heard the returning footsteps of the girl.

  "She said to come up," the girl told them. "I'll take you."

  As the door to Mouse's office opened, an image streaked through Owl's inner vision: Mouse with Yverri Ambhere. "Yverri," he said. "Thank all the gods."

  "Ho, Owl," Mouse said, a touch of asperity in her tone. "I thought you were here to see me."

  "Well, I am; but I wanted—among other things—to ask you to get an urgent message to Yverri."

  "Come in and close the door," Mouse said. "I'm afraid I haven't enough chairs for everyone—although I'll admit I'm relieved, Owl, that you're traveling with an entourage. Yverri, you know Owl and Lynx, of course, and Cezhar; the others are Marhysse and Khofyn."

  Lynx guided Owl to one of the chairs, while the others found places to stand or perch.

  "Marhysse?" Yverri repeated. "You're Lyssemarhe's sister. She speaks of you, often."

  "Yes, poor Lysse. She'd rather be a guard than a lady, I expect, but she wasn't as good at tantrums as I was."

  "She's a dear and all of us like her. Owl, what was it you wanted to tell me?"

  "I may have put you in danger—more danger," he said, and bleakly, he told them what had happened.

  "Do you mean," Mouse said, when he was done, "that Yverri is a Resonator—your Resonator?" At Owl's nod, she continued with more heat. "And now Morekheth, who is possibly the Adept preying on my students, may know about her?"

  Owl nodded again. "Or that a Resonator exists. Kerigden couldn't tell to whom I was referring, only that he had the impression it was a woman. But Mouse, Morekheth is only one of the Adepts. The other one is Bodywalking in Klarhynne Dhenykhare."

  "Well, gods and fish!" Mouse swore. "Yverri, what are you going to do? You mustn't go back into the reach of either of them—especially not since we have reason to think they communicate with one another."

  "Communicate?" Yverri said. "Why do you think—"

  "Morekheth was annoyed when Owl interrupted him," Mouse explained. "He said, 'I've warned you about this.' Yverri," she repeated, "what are you going to do? It won't be safe for you to be among the Queen's ladies. Can you pretend to be sick and make them send you home?"

  "No, I can't," Yverri said firmly. "If I do anything out of the ordinary, it will draw attention to me. Don't you see? Even Morekheth doesn't have any reason to suspect Owl's Resonator is one of Her Majesty's ladies."

  "But they'll watch Owl," Mouse insisted. "They'll watch who he sees, who he visits and talks to—and who visits him. It's not a secret you were at the Ghytteve complex yesterday, and it's not a very large step from that fact to the surmise that you're involved."

  "We need a decoy," Lynx said softly. "Someone who will come and live in the Ghytteve complex. We could keep her safe if she were under our eyes, couldn't we, Cezh?"

  "Yes," the bodyguard captain agreed. "To be believable it will need to be someone Owl's met before—"

  "Someone without a mage-gift," Lynx interjected.

  "All right. And to be workable, it has to be someone who doesn't have duties which will take her out of the apartments."

  "One of my students, perhaps," Mouse offered slowly. "You've met Ghysse before."

  "No!" Owl said sharply. "I won't put a child at such risk."

  "What about one of Ferret's people?" Khofyn suggested. "Vixen, maybe; you've met her, haven't you?"

  "Yes," Owl admitted. "I met her when we rescued Arre from Rhyazhe Dhenykhare. But I can't ask her to lend herself to this masquerade. We haven't any idea how long it will go on, and it's dangerous."

  "It's a good idea," Mouse said. "You won't have to ask her, Owl; I'll suggest it to Ferret, and she'll enlist Vixen."

  "But—" Owl protested.

  "Don't argue," Mouse snapped. "The Emperor is beloved in the Slums—and we all know how important you are to keeping him safe. Vixen will be honored to be asked to help."

  Owl pushed a hand though his hair but he didn't say anything else on the subject.

  "Mouse," Yverri said quietly, "as long as you're arranging Owl's life, do you think you could figure out a way for me to spend some time with him without putting myself in danger?"

  "You mean beyond simply flirting with him in the gardens?"

  "I mean time out of the public eye, so he can make use of my abilities."

  "I'll think about it," Mouse promised a little wearily. "In the meantime, what's wrong with now?"

  Before Owl could respond, he heard Yverri's steps approaching. She knelt on the floor and took his hands in hers. "Yverri, I don't know what I'm doing," he whispered.

  "I know," she replied calmly. "So figure it out. Don't waste time."

  Objections, like a shoal of fish, swam through his mind, but he ignored them. Instead, he stilled his thoughts as he sought the quiet concentration that would—sometimes—leave him open to his Gift. With almost startling ease, images began to form: Commander Bhenekh and the Emperor's spymaster in conversation, worry plain even on Thantor's unrevealing face; the Queen listening to the report of Captain Ysmenarr of her Guard; Ancith prowling through the Palace gardens; Marhysse and Lynx back to back in an unequal knife fight; a man in judges' robes reading a letter; the Emperor and the Prime Minister Zherekhaf; Cithanekh, pacing; Captain Ysmenarr taking a letter and a purse from a man in Dhenykhare livery; Morekheth and Klarhynne Dhenykhare deep in conversation in the Statue Walk. When the images faded, Owl did not release the trance immediately. Instead, he summoned one of them back: the judge with the letter. Carefully, using the techniques he had learned at the Kellande School, he tried to bring more details into focus; there had been a broken seal on the letter…It was clear—just like that, with almost no effort—heavy red wax, pressed with the cracked seal of House Dhenykhare's star and anchor. Above the seal was a name: Honorable Krassykh Dhenykhare, Fourth Court. Then, unbidden, another image replaced it: Yverri approaching the Free School in the company of a man in Ambhere livery. The implications shook him out of the trance.

  "Yverri," he said a little sharply, "you didn't come down here alone, did you? Who was your escort and where is he?"

  "My cousin lent me one of her people, Arrekh. He had an errand in the Temple District. He's coming back for me. Why is that important?" Her voice sounded a little strained, tired.

  "If this decoy business is going to work, we can't have anyone know I met you here. We have to be gone before Arrekh comes back. You sound tired. Are you all right?"

  "Yes," she said. "It does tire me, but I'm all right."

  "I'm sorry," he began, but she cut him off.

  "Don't be." She leaned against him and laid her head in his lap. He stroked her hair a little absently and she sighed.

  "Don't go to sleep, Yverri," he cautioned. "I can't stay."

  She made herself sit up; he could feel the effort it took. "Maybe a drink of water, Mouse?" she asked.

  "I'll get coffee," Mouse replied. "How much does she help you, Owl?"

  "A great deal," he said. "I can't—Without more practice together, I won't be able to fo
rm an accurate assessment of the depth and range she adds. Yverri," he added. "Are you really all right? I didn't hurt you?"

  "I'm all right," she assured him. "Did you learn anything useful?"

  "More pieces of the puzzle—or of several puzzles. Do you—any of you—know a judge named Krassykh Dhenykhare?"

  But no one did. When Mouse returned with the coffee, Owl took his leave and he and the bodyguards went back to the Palace.

  ***

  The Statue Walk was deserted save for the two seated on the marble bench beneath the statue of the Empress Celerhanne the Fair. Morekheth's mourning garb was stark against the creamy stone and manicured lawn; his companion was dressed in pale peach silk which would have looked better on a woman of a very different complexion, but Klarhynne Dhenykhare had to be grateful for whatever castoffs her cousins sent her way.

  "It isn't like you, Morekheth, to panic," she said in tones very different from the deferential ones Klarhynne usually employed.

  "I didn't panic. This is important. They were in my mind, Klarhynne: Owl Ghytteve and that damned Windbringer priest. I didn't dare conduct this conversation in a venue where we might be overheard."

  She laid her hand on his and simpered. "Make it quick. I don't like this."

  "First point: they know there are two Adepts; they spoke of me as the second one. Second point: they suspect I had something to do with—a certain shipwreck, and they think I might take similar steps if things don't go to my liking in the near future. Third point: Owl Ghytteve is asking questions about Resonators. I tried to probe more deeply, but that's when that damned priest noticed me. The Bone King alone knows what they got out of my mind when they flung me loose."

  "Resonators." Klarhynne forgot her simper. "Could it be he's found one, Morekheth?"

  "There was the sense of a woman in his mind when he asked the question, but I couldn't tell who it was."

  "The bodyguard?"

  "I don't think so," Morekheth said slowly. "Else why start asking questions now?"

  "Find out who he's seen in the last two weeks; and have the Ghytteve complex watched to see who comes and goes. Owl Ghytteve is strong enough to be a serious hindrance without any help. This Resonator—if such exists—must be found and killed." The simper plastered itself back on her face, jarring oddly with the cold fury in her eyes. "I must go. See to it—and Morekheth: no mistakes."