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‘If I did, would that make me a Talon?’
Cotillion’s smile broadened. ‘But, my dear, the Talons no longer exist.’
‘Oh, really, Cotillion, would you ask my help and then play me for a fool?’
The smile slowly faded. ‘But I am telling you, the Talons no longer exist. Surly annihilated them. Is there knowledge you possess that would suggest otherwise?’
She was silent a moment, then turned away. ‘No. I simply… assumed.’
‘Indeed. Will you help me then?’
‘Pearl is on his way,’ Lostara said, facing the god once again.
‘I am capable of brevity when need be.’
‘What is it you want me to do?’
Half a bell later there was a light rap upon the door and Pearl entered.
And immediately halted. ‘I smell sorcery.’
Seated on the bed, Lostara shrugged then rose to collect her kit bag. ‘There are sequences in the Shadow Dance,’ she said casually, ‘that occasionally evoke Rashan.’
‘Rashan! Yes.’ He stepped close, his gaze searching. ‘The Shadow Dance. You?’
‘Once. Long ago. I hold to no gods, Pearl. Never have. But the Dance, I’ve found, serves me in my fighting. Keeps me flexible, and I need that the most when I am nervous or unhappy.’ She slung the bag over a shoulder and waited.
Pearl’s eyebrows rose. ‘Nervous or unhappy?’
She answered him with a sour look, then walked to the doorway. ‘You said you’ve stumbled on a lead…’
He joined her. ‘I have at that. But a word of warning first. Those sequences that evoke Rashan-it would be best for us both if you avoided them in the future. That kind of activity risks drawing… attention.’
‘Very well. Now, lead on.’
A lone guard slouched outside the estate’s gate, beside a bound bundle of straw. Pale green eyes tracked Lostara and Pearl as they approached from across the street. The man’s uniform and armour were dull with dust. A small human finger bone hung on a brass loop from one ear. His expression was sickly, and he drew a deep breath before saying, ‘You the advance? Go back and tell her we’re not ready.’
Lostara blinked and glanced over at Pearl.
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‘If I did, would that make me a Talon?’
Cotillion’s smile broadened. ‘But, my dear, the Talons no longer exist.’
‘Oh, really, Cotillion, would you ask my help and then play me for a fool?’
The smile slowly faded. ‘But I am telling you, the Talons no longer exist. Surly annihilated them. Is there knowledge you possess that would suggest otherwise?’
She was silent a moment, then turned away. ‘No. I simply… assumed.’
‘Indeed. Will you help me then?’
‘Pearl is on his way,’ Lostara said, facing the god once again.
‘I am capable of brevity when need be.’
‘What is it you want me to do?’
Half a bell later there was a light rap upon the door and Pearl entered.
And immediately halted. ‘I smell sorcery.’
Seated on the bed, Lostara shrugged then rose to collect her kit bag. ‘There are sequences in the Shadow Dance,’ she said casually, ‘that occasionally evoke Rashan.’
‘Rashan! Yes.’ He stepped close, his gaze searching. ‘The Shadow Dance. You?’
‘Once. Long ago. I hold to no gods, Pearl. Never have. But the Dance, I’ve found, serves me in my fighting. Keeps me flexible, and I need that the most when I am nervous or unhappy.’ She slung the bag over a shoulder and waited.
Pearl’s eyebrows rose. ‘Nervous or unhappy?’
She answered him with a sour look, then walked to the doorway. ‘You said you’ve stumbled on a lead…’
He joined her. ‘I have at that. But a word of warning first. Those sequences that evoke Rashan-it would be best for us both if you avoided them in the future. That kind of activity risks drawing… attention.’
‘Very well. Now, lead on.’
A lone guard slouched outside the estate’s gate, beside a bound bundle of straw. Pale green eyes tracked Lostara and Pearl as they approached from across the street. The man’s uniform and armour were dull with dust. A small human finger bone hung on a brass loop from one ear. His expression was sickly, and he drew a deep breath before saying, ‘You the advance? Go back and tell her we’re not ready.’
Lostara blinked and glanced over at Pearl.
Her companion was smiling. ‘Do we look like messengers, soldier?’
The guard’s eyes thinned. ‘Didn’t I see you dancing on a table down at Pugroot’s Bar?’
Pearl’s smile broadened. ‘And have you a name, soldier?’
‘Maybe.’
‘Well, what is it?’
‘I just told you. Maybe. Do you need me to spell it or something?’
‘Can you?’
‘No. I was just wondering if you was stupid, that’s all. So, if you’re not the Adjunct’s advance, come to warn us about that surprise inspection, then what do you want?’
‘A moment,’ Pearl said, frowning. ‘How can an inspection be a surprise if there’s advance warning?’
‘Hood’s leathery feet, you are stupid after all. That’s how it’s done-’
‘A warning, then.’ He glanced at Lostara and winked as he added, ‘Seems I’m offering those all day. Listen, Maybe, the Adjunct won’t be warning you about her inspections-and don’t expect your officers to do so either. She has her own rules, and you’d better get used to it.’
‘You still ain’t told me what you want.’
‘I need to speak to a certain soldier of the 5th squad of the 9th Company, and I understand he is stationed in the temporary barracks here.’
‘Well, I’m in the 6th, not the 5th.’
‘Yes… so?’
‘Well, it’s obvious then, isn’t it? You don’t want to speak to me at all. Go on in, you’re wasting my time. And hurry up, I’m not feeling too well.’
The guard opened the gate and watched them stride inside, his eyes falling to Lostara’s swaying hips for a long moment before he slammed the reinforced gate shut.
Beside him, the bale of straw shimmered suddenly then reformed as an overweight young man seated cross-legged on the cobbles.
Maybe’s head turned and he sighed. ‘Don’t do that again-not near me, Balgrid. Magic makes me want to puke.’
‘I had no choice but to maintain the illusion,’ Balgrid replied, drawing a sleeve across his sweat-beaded brow. ‘That bastard was a Claw!’
‘Really? I could have sworn I saw him wearing a woman’s clothes and dancing at Pug-’
