spymaster. My love is Arqual, till death do us part.
He had torn that boy's throat out with his teeth. What choice did he have?
Lessons Learned
11 Ilqrin 941
29th day from Etherhorde
'Blar baffin mud-me,' said Thasha glumly.
Pazel looked up from the grammar book, exasperated. 'Blar avfam muteti-'My husband is my trusted guide.? There's no d in the sentence, m'lady.'
'Stop calling me that.'
Pazel lowered his voice to a whisper. 'You know I can't. They'll throw me out. Honestly, Thasha, you're not even trying.'
'I'm not getting married,' she whispered, furious. 'And how would you know if I was trying? All you have to do is wait for your blary Gift to translate for you.'
'I told you, I learned four languages by studying, before Mother cast the spell. I was already good with them. If she'd cast it on you, I suppose it would have helped your fighting. Isn't that what you're best at?'
'Fighting and tactics. That's what Hercуl and Prahba say, anyway.'
'The point is, you have to start out good at something for it to make you better at it.'
They were seated in velvet chairs in a corner of the first-class lounge. A few yards to their left, Brother Bolutu sat reading a book from the ship's library: Venomous Pests of Alifros. At the far end of the room, Syrarys sipped wine and chattered gaily with a crowd of women, among them Pacu Lapadolma. In the shadows behind the women stood a bucktoothed tarboy known as Sorry Suds, holding a wine jug and pulling the cord that turned the ceiling-mounted fan. Now and then a woman thrust out her cup, and the boy leaped to fill it.
Pazel's hair was so clean it felt like something he'd borrowed. Fiffengurt himself had dunked him in a tub of limewater. 'You're going to tutor the Treaty Bride!' he said. 'Your appearance will reflect on every boy on this ship. Imagine if a louse were to crawl from your hair onto Lady Thasha.'
Jervik had called him a dandy-under his breath. He had not gotten over his terror at Pazel's unnatural fit of gibberish. But he still wouldn't return Pazel's father's knife or his mother's ivory whale-wouldn't admit to having them, in fact. 'They was left on the Eniel, with a lot of my things,' he'd told Pazel-but he smirked as he said it, and winked at his hangers-on.
'Your sister wasn't good at languages, I suppose,' said Thasha, 'otherwise the spell would have given her the same Gift, right? But she must have been good at something.'
'Lots of things,' said Pazel. 'I used to think she was good at everything, in fact. Neda was strong, like you. She sang beautifully, and knew a thousand songs. And she understood people: that's what I remember most. I couldn't fool her, and neither could anyone else. Sometimes it made her sad. But if the spell did anything-besides nearly kill her-we didn't notice it before she ran away. I wonder sometimes if she ever forgave our mother, or if she thinks of me.'
'Of course she does. Don't be daft.'
'I don't even know if she's alive.'
Thasha bit her lips. Pazel blinked at the page of Mzithrini script. Across the room, Pacu Lapadolma was chatting gaily about the Emperor's birthday, two weeks off but already the subject of lively anticipation. Pacu's great-aunt had presented the ship with a 'party crate' to be opened on the night in question: it was certain to contain outlandish fun.
'Sound out the words, m'lady,' said Pazel at last. ''My husband shall never go hungry while I live.''
'Blur baffle-oh, I wish they'd pipe down!' Thasha glared at Pacu. 'She has a voice like a tipsy rooster. We should go to my cabin.'
'That's a brilliant idea,' said Pazel dryly.
A month had passed since the day of his mind-fit. Ambassador Isiq had not spoken to Pazel again: when they passed on deck he pretended not to see the tarboy. Hercуl had suggested Pazel write a letter of apology. But how could he apologize for speaking the truth? In any case, the ambassador had at last given his grudging assent to these lessons. He had even come to some terms with Rose concerning Pazel's bond debt. Isiq had very little choice. Without Dr. Chadfallow, there was no Mzithrini-speaker aboard except Pazel-and at the very least, Thasha had to learn her vows.
The door opened and Hercуl stepped into the lounge. He smiled at Thasha but went at once to Syrarys, bowed and handed her a small package wrapped in muslin cloth. Syrarys gave him a brief nod and hid the package away.
Only then did Hercуl approach Thasha and Pazel.
'You found your buttons, Pathkendle,' he said. 'I'm amazed they were not stolen, after all those hours.'
'I got lucky,' said Pazel, raising a hand to his coat. In fact something far stranger than luck had come his way: the brass buttons had appeared in his pocket the morning after his mind-fit. He had thanked Neeps warmly, but the other tarboy had no idea what he was talking about. Neither did Reyast, in the hammock beneath him.
Pazel had decided they were teasing him, and forgotten all about it. But now, in the first-class lounge, another possibility struck him suddenly: the ixchel. Who else could retrieve lost buttons from cracks and crevices about the deck, and slip them unseen into his pocket?
Pazel looked with foreboding at the swordsman above him. Does he know? Hercуl was giving him another of those raptor-like stares. But he asked no questions, and instead held out a small wooden box and flipped open the lid.
Inside was what looked like clumps of glue and orange yarn. 'Spider jellies,' said Hercуl. 'A specialty of Tressek Tarn.'
Pazel thanked him, and nervously pressed one whole sticky wad into his mouth. But Thasha just sniffed at the candy.
'What did Syrarys want this time?' she asked.
Hercуl's eyebrows rose. 'Medicine. Drops for your father's tea. Very thoughtful of her: she wrote ahead for them, from Ether-horde.'
'Every time we're in port she sends you running about.'
'As valet, I am her servant as well. Thasha, has Commander Nagan been this way?'
'Who?'
'The captain of your family's honor guard, my dear. He took ill and left us in Ulsprit, but I gather he caught up with the Chathrand and boarded today. I wish to make his acquaintance.'
'I've never seen the man. Listen to me, Hercуl: you're my teacher. And there's not much time left to learn from you.'
'That is so.' Hercуl gave her a slight smile. 'One must always keep an eye on the clock, don't you think?'
With that he turned and left the room. Thasha looked at Pazel, suddenly breathless. 'That's our code,' she whispered. 'Ramachni's back. Pazel, you must come with me now.'
She rose and half dragged Pazel from the lounge. They slipped through the empty dining room, passed the Money Gate and the officers' cabins. At her door Pazel stopped.
'This is the last place I ought to be,' he said.
'Don't worry, it's all arranged. Come in.'
'Arranged?' he said. 'By whom? Is your father in there?'
'No, he's not, and neither is Syrarys. Pazel, can't you trust me?'
He looked at her warily. But he followed her into the stateroom.
The red light of sunset poured in through the stern windows, glittering on the brasswork and chandeliers. There was a five-foot samovar made of porcelain and jade, a wisp of steam still rising from its spout. There was a painting of a shipwreck in a great gilded frame, and the pair of crossed swords he had spotted before. But now across the center of the floor lay a huge, tawny bearskin rug, complete with head and claws.
