A Magic of Twilight

she saw. He’s a Numetodo; you’re an o’teni. What you felt could be pretext, all one-sided yet again, so that he has a door into the Faith.

He could be intending to corrupt you. Be careful. Be very careful.

“I will be,” she said to the mirror.

“O’Teni?” a voice questioned from the door, and she started, turning her head to see Sunna there. “What were you saying?”

“Nothing,” she said. “Is the carriage here?”

“Yes,” Sunna said. “I told the teni to let the Archigos know that you’ll be right down.”

The Archigos said little beyond the required greeting until the teni driver closed the carriage door and began his chant to start the vehicle rolling through the streets. The carriage lurched over the cobbles as it turned onto the Avi a’Parete, people on the street bowing and giving the sign of Cenzi as they passed, their faces solemn. Ana knew what the gossip of the city must be like. The Archigos sighed deeply. “I was able to learn something last night,” he said. “Do you remember ci’Recroix’s painting in the Kraljica’s parlor? The one of the family?”

“Yes, Archigos. It’s a very enchanting painting that makes me want to keep staring at it. The woman with the baby. . I half expect to hear the infant suckling.”

“The family he portrayed is dead. Every one of them,” the Archigos told her. “They died, I’m told, within a day after the painting was completed, of some tragic and unknown disease. Strangely, that seems to be the case with several of the subjects of ci’Recroix’s paintings over the last four or five years, though not before: the person whose portrait he captured suddenly and unexpectedly died. A series of tragic coincidences, which didn’t come to light since ci’Recroix never accepted a commission in the same city twice.”

Ana’s chest felt as if someone were sitting on it. “I don’t think it’s coincidence, Archigos.”

The dwarf sniffed. “Neither do I, Ana. Neither do I. I think ci’Recroix has been. . practicing.”

“But why, and for his own reasons or for someone else’s?”

“That I don’t know, but I will find out. I have my suspicions, however.”

“The Numetodo?” Ana asked hesitantly, thinking of the note she’d received. She was afraid to even glance at the Archigos, afraid that he would see what she was hiding.

She felt more than saw the Archigos shrug. “Possibly, but I doubt that. The Kraljica is more likely to be sympathetic to the Numetodo than the A’Kralj, after all. Why, do you know something about them that would lead you to suspect them? I saw you with Envoy ci’Vliomani last night.”

He was watching her. She could feel his gaze on her, and she stared out the window of the carriage rather than look at him. If he knows about the note, if he’s read it, then I should tell him now so he knows that I won’t keep secrets from him. .

She knew she should open herself to him, but even as she started to speak, another inner voice objected. If you tell him and he knew nothing, he won’t let you go. He’ll make certain that Envoy ci’Vliomani is kept far away from you, and you’ll never know if anything he’s said or anything you might have felt is true. . “No,” she said to the window. “I was only speculating, that’s all. You’re right, of course, Archigos. Envoy ci’Vliomani told me that he was looking forward to meeting the Kraljica, and I believe he was sincere in that.” She forced herself to turn back to the Archigos. There was nothing in his wizened face that suggested he might be disappointed in her or that she had failed a test set her. “If not the Numetodo, then who?” she asked.

The Archigos only shook his head. “I won’t say. Not without more proof-proof that I fully expect is forthcoming. I’ve told Commandant ca’Rudka what I’ve learned, and he has started his own investigation.

The commandant has. .” The Archigos pressed his lips together momentarily. “. . sources and ways of gaining information I do not.”

Ana shivered, remembering the man and the sense of unspoken menace that exuded from him. She could imagine the ways to which the Archigos referred. “And the Kraljica?” she asked. “How is she this morning?”

The Archigos shook his head. “No better. Somewhat worse, perhaps. Renard wasn’t optimistic. She’s remained unconscious since the incident, and no one can rouse her.”

“Archigos, I don’t know if I can. Last night drained me so deeply.”

He reached out with his small, malformed hand and patted hers.

“I won’t ask you to do anything you don’t feel you can do, Ana. The choice is yours-yours and Cenzi’s.”

“And if she dies?”

The Archigos looked at her sharply, then frowned. “If she dies, Ana, then I fear for Nessantico. I truly do.”

Karl ci’Vliomani

“If she dies, we’re doomed. Utterly doomed.”

“It’s not that dire, Mika,” Karl answered. The tavern was cold despite the roaring fire in the large stone hearth near their table. The walls were laced with shadows and smoke, and the inn smelled of soot and ash from the poor ventilation of the flue. Despite the noon sun outside, the shuttered windows kept the tavern in perpetual dusk. The ale in the tankard in front of him was sour and too infused with hops for Karl’s taste. He longed for the malty, dark, and thick stouts and porters of home. Beyond the tankard, Mika looked frightened and worried, leaning forward to whisper harshly across the table.

“No? Did your dancing with the Archigos’ new toy go so well? You mean to say that you don’t foresee bodies hanging from gibbets here in Nessantico when the A’Kralj becomes the Kraljiki? Well, I do, Karl. I see them very clearly, and I see your face and mine on two of the bodies.”

“This wasn’t our fault. We both know that.”

“Right. That will be a great comfort to my surviving relations, I’m sure. I’ll make sure it’s carved on my gravestone: It wasn’t his fault. ”

With a disgusted growl, Mika sat back in his chair and downed his beer in one long gulp. “And you invited your toy to the meeting tonight?”

“Mika.” Now Karl leaned forward over the scarred, grimy tabletop. “I’m going to ask you just once, politely, not to refer to O’Teni cu’Seranta that way. I won’t ask you a second time.”

Mike started to retort, then swallowed whatever he’d intended to say. His gaze drifted away from Karl. “I’m sorry,” Mika said. “I’m terrified by what’s happened, Karl. I have family here in the city; you don’t.

It’s not just what they’d do to me; it’s what would happen to them.”

That’s why it’s all the more important that we meet with O’Teni cu’Seranta. The Archigos isn’t A’Teni ca’Cellibrecca, and maybe she can make the Archigos hear us. I came here to plead the case for tolerance with the Kraljica; if she’s gone, then I’ll go to Concenzia again and-” Karl stopped. The door to the tavern opened, flooding the room with light. There were growls and curses from the patrons until the figure outlined there shut the door again. Karl had shaded his eyes, though it hadn’t helped much: wild splotches of color chased each other over his field of vision, and he thought he saw, impossibly, a glint of metal in the middle of the man’s face. Through the welter of afterimages, the figure looked around, then fixed on them, striding up to their table.

“Cenzi’s balls,” Mika cursed, his chair scraping and falling backward as he rose, his hand going to the knife on his belt. There was an answering ring of steel as the figure drew a sword from his scabbard. Even before Karl could react, Mika was pressed back to the wall with the point at his throat. In the attacker’s other hand, a knife blade flashed, pointed at Karl.

The intruder’s nose was silver.

Ca’Rudka clucked twice scoldingly at Karl, who started to speak as his hand lifted. “I really wouldn’t do that,” he said, and the point of his sword pressed harder against Mika’s throat, dimpling the skin. Mika lifted his chin, his mouth open, his eyes wide and frightened. “He’ll be dead before you can finish, Envoy. I’m faster than your spell, I promise you.”

“Commandant,” Karl said, swallowing the release word that was in his own throat and forcing himself to remain still. The point of ca’Rudka’s knife gleamed a few inches from his chest; his sword remained at Mika’s throat. The pressure of the unreleased spell made Karl grimace. His head pounded. “I apologize for my friend. Here in Oldtown, a little paranoia is a survival tactic, as I’m sure you realize.”

There was a commotion at the door; he heard several other people enter and the sound of their drawn weapons, but he didn’t dare look away. He thought he glimpsed blue and gold in his peripheral vision.

“Commandant?” he tip of ca’Rudka’s sword withdrew slightly, leaving behind a mark that drooled blood. Mika