enough,' he said. 'Four hours of work you've missed. They know you're in here, of course, so we must invent a story to explain it. My suggestion is that we tell the truth: you have been entertaining us with your languages.'
'Languages!' said Thasha suddenly. 'Pazel, tell me this, if you can: who or what is a mighra cror?'
Pazel looked at her, startled anew. 'Those are Mzithrini words, the first I've heard in five years. And they mean 'red wolf.''
'Red wolf?'
He nodded. 'Where did you hear such a thing?'
'From a man who hid in our garden,' said Thasha. 'Just before someone put an arrow in his heart.'
Hercуl was looking from one to the other. 'You are both quite sure?' he said softly. 'Of what you heard, Thasha-and you, boy, of the meaning?'
They assured him they were.
'Does it mean something to you, Hercуl?' Thasha asked.
'It may, and it may not. I know of just one red wolf. It was a magic statue or talisman of old, fashioned by Mzithrini alchemists from enchanted iron, fused with the blood of a living man. The stories all connect this Red Wolf with some great evil that plagued the Pentarchy a thousand years ago. And yet, strangely, the Five Kings' worst fear seemed to be that it might be stolen: they carved out a mountain citadel over Babqri and placed the Wolf at its center, guarded by walls and traps and sfvantskor warrior-priests. Why they should keep a thing of evil at the heart of their Empire I cannot guess. The tales, in any case, are half forgotten, in this age when east and west do not speak. What is certain is that the citadel, for all its protections, was destroyed at the end of the last war. The fate of the Red Wolf is anyone's guess. What a peculiar thing for that man to say.'
'In the middle of Etherhorde,' added Thasha, shaking her head. 'In Mzithrini.'
'Stranger still, he said it to you,' added Hercуl. 'The Treaty Bride, on the eve of her journey.'
She turned back to Pazel. 'If you speak Mzithrini, that means you heard someone speak it once when your Gift was working, right?'
'Yes,' said Pazel. 'The Mzithrin Kings had an envoy in Ormael, just like Arqual did. He had to leave when the troubles began, but in earlier days he and Dr. Chadfallow used to sit on our terrace and talk about peace-or argue about war.'
'But I thought your mother cast the spell while Chadfallow was back home in Etherhorde,' said Thasha.
'She did,' said Pazel. 'But the Mzithrini envoy… well, he fell in love with my mother, and spent time with us right up until the Arqualis attacked. My mother didn't particularly like him, but he kept trying. Especially after Dr. Chadfallow left.'
'Ignus said she was a great beauty,' said Hercуl.
Pazel dropped his eyes. 'He proposed to her,' he said at last.
'Who?' asked Thasha. 'The doctor or the Sizzy fellow?'
'Both,' said Pazel after a moment.
'Ah!'
'She was-she is beautiful,' Pazel went on. 'And she did like Ignus. But I can't understand why she took so long to say no to the Mzithrini.'
'Just imagine!' laughed Thasha. 'If she'd married him, you might have gone to live in Babqri City and learned the Casket Prayers, and had your neck tattooed with the name of his tribe, and learned how to ride a war elephant!'
'And found Captain Gregory,' said Hercуl.
Pazel looked up at him sharply.
'Or if she'd married Chadfallow,' said Thasha, 'he might have taken you to Etherhorde, and we'd have met years ago, and Hercуl could have taught you thojmйlй fighting, too. And you'd never have become a tarboy at all. You'd be Pazel Chadfallow, and you'd have been safe and sound in the doctor's house right through the Rescue of Ormael.'
'Rescue?' said Pazel, turning on her in amazement. 'The Rescue of Ormael? Do you people really call it that?'
'Well, yes,' she said, taken aback. 'It was a rescue, wasn't it? Otherwise you'd have been killed by the Mzithrin Kings, all of you, and had your blood mixed with milk.'
'Come, Thasha, you know better,' said Hercуl.
Thasha was by now quite red. 'Do I? Prahba says it was only a matter of time before someone invaded Ormael. At least we didn't kill everyone.'
'You tried,' said Pazel.
'Mr. Pathkendle!' said Hercуl.
'You killed half the men in the invasion-that's what it was, Thasha, an invasion-and enslaved the rest. You sold us boys to the mining companies, and our sisters to old fat men.'
'Nobody sold you to any mining company,' said Thasha, but she could no longer meet his eye.
'You burned the city to the ground!'
'She didn't,' said a voice behind them. 'I did.'
Admiral Eberzam Isiq stood in the doorway, heavy and grim, a pale turquoise vein standing out on his bald head. No one had heard him approach.
'Who is this boy, who calls my daughter by her given name? Why is he in her cabin?'
'Sir,' said Hercуl, bowing his head, 'I do humbly beg your pardon. This is the tarboy you wished to congratulate, the tamer of the augrongs. I understood you were napping, and as we waited on your pleasure the boy revealed that he speaks the Mzithrini tongue.' He raised a book from Thasha's table. 'I thought it worth putting to the test.'
'So this is Pathkendle!' boomed the ambassador. 'Captain Gregory's boy! I didn't know him in that coat-but of course, it's the very coat I gave him, isn't it? Hmm! Now tell me, Pathkendle: what has happened to my doctor?'
'I… I've no idea, sir.'
'Chadfallow has vanished,' declared Isiq. 'Normally he writes every week or two, but it has been almost six. His last letter said that he had booked passage on the Eniel to Sorrophran, where he was to board this ship. You served on the Eniel, I believe.'
He's sharp, thought Pazel. Who told him that?
'Did you see him, boy? Speak to him?'
Pazel nodded.
'Well, what did he say? Out with it!'
'We spoke about the Chathrand, sir,' said Pazel carefully. 'And about the last war with the Mzithrin. Were you in that war, sir?'
'Of course. Continue.'
Pazel hesitated. Chadfallow had spoken to him in great secrecy. He and Isiq were old friends, and perhaps the doctor had hoped Pazel would pass on a message-but how could he be sure?
'He… hinted at things, Your Excellency. That the Chathrand is heading for the Mzithrin lands, for instance.'
'Well, so we are-to Simja, right on the border of their empire.'
'Excuse me, sir: not close to but into Mzithrini waters. That's what he meant, I think.'
Isiq looked sharply at Hercуl, then back to Pazel. 'You must have misheard.'
'Not him,' snarled Thasha. 'Mr. Pathkendle has very sharp hearing.'
Isiq laughed aloud. 'She's fond of you. Can't you tell?' Then, abruptly, he winced and raised his hands to his temples.
Thasha rushed to his side. 'Prahba,' she said, clutching his arm. 'Are they getting worse?'
'I'm quite all right,' he grumbled. 'And when we land at Tressek Tarn I shall be better still.'
Pazel supposed Isiq meant to visit the famous mineral baths of Tressek Tarn; they were said to cure all manner of diseases. What was wrong with him, though? One could tell at a glance that he suffered from more than headaches.
Isiq smiled at his daughter. 'Your hand is strong,' he said. 'You'll represent our Empire well in this new age of peace. Now come here, Pathkendle. I have something to say.'
