Summoning all his courage, he whispered: 'Are you listening?'
The cow looked at him dreamily. Pazel waited, holding his breath. There was no sound but the slice of the ship through the waves, loud here at the waterline.
Diadrelu had said they would speak again once the Chathrand left Etherhorde, but she had never come. And sometime tomorrow he would be tossed ashore. If he told Neeps or Thasha about the ixchel they might be murdered in their sleep. If he didn't, Steldak would rot away in that cage until he died.
'Can you hear me?' he whispered again. 'Come soon, Diadrelu. Please.'
'Kit-kit-kit! Kitty-cat! Come out, you sly, stinking cheat!'
Around Thasha, sailors stifled laughs. None had seen the red cat, so sorry m'lady, and Thasha realized the chase was futile. Better to get back to the stateroom before things got any worse.
She made a quick dash across the main deck. Her door was ajar. Slipping inside, she kicked off her shoes and coat and ran straight to her cabin.
Hercуl looked worse. Under Dr. Rain's tight bandages his leg was swollen like a fatty sausage. A low wheezing came from his throat.
Thasha fought down panic. Hercуl's dying. Ramachni's out of reach. Pazel's being thrown off the ship. She could not remember ever feeling so trapped. Who was she, to imagine she could escape the clutches of two empires? She couldn't even escape from the Lorg.
Her misery was cut short by the sound of a key in the stateroom door. Thasha left her cabin just as her father opened the outer door.
'How is he?' Isiq asked at once.
'Not good.'
Eberzam crossed the room, peered in at Hercуl and shook his head. Thasha pulled her collar high around her neck, praying he wouldn't notice the missing necklace.
'Prahba,' she said, 'who's in charge of catching the attacker?'
'That would be Commander Nagan,' said Isiq.
'Good old Nagan,' she said, with less-than-perfect conviction. 'Where's he been lately?'
'He sailed ahead to be sure all was safe in our next port of call. But he is back aboard now. A fine soldier, that one. By the way, Syrarys has been asking for you.'
'Oh?'
'She has grown fond of the ladies' powder room. Women can actually talk there, she says, away from us menfolk.' He smiled. 'You should join her one of these nights.'
'I will,' said Thasha. 'Come to think of it, Prahba, I think I'll join her now.'
'Good girl,' he said.
Of course Thasha's intentions were not 'good' in the way her father meant. She had already poked her head into the first-class powder room on two previous nights and had not found Syrarys there at all. Once more, she thought, and I'll ask where she really goes after dinner-in front of Prahba, of course. And how will you squirm out of that one, you fancy louse?
But tonight, outrageously, Syrarys was where she claimed she would be. 'Dearest!' she cried when Thasha opened the door. 'Have you come to soak with us awhile?'
Soggy hands drew Thasha in. One of the first-class wives (nine were stuffed in the little room) had arranged for a tub of near-boiling water to be installed in the powder room, and they sat around it in ecstasy, soaking their ostrich legs. 'Salt water, tut,' said the wife of the Virabalm wheat merchant. 'Still, it's the very thing on a cold night!'
Syrarys had wrapped her hair in a towel. 'Our Thasha's been studying the enemy-oh dear, that's wrong-our former enemy, of course. She knows about their history, their strange and frightening ways. But we mustn't be frightened anymore, right, darling? From now on we shall live and let live. And all the more so after your marriage. Come, sit by me-and do teach us some Mzithrini.'
Once again Thasha had walked right into Syrarys' trap. She could hardly accuse her of sneaking off somewhere now. 'Mzithrini! Mzithrini!' the wives chirped in delight. And every minute brought them closer to Uturphe.
Thasha spoke a phrase from the back of the Merchant's Polylex ('Don't touch any of my goods!'), which was all she ever intended to say to her fiancй if the wedding somehow occurred. She told them it was a polite greeting among nobles.
Groping her way out of the steam at last, Thasha closed the door on their 'Ta-ta!'s' and made for the topdeck. But she had not taken three steps when she saw an old soldier leaving the smoking salon, just ahead. He was short, lean, scarred, a survivor of many battles, and he wore the red beret of the honor guard.
'Good evening, Commander Nagan,' she said. Sandor Ott turned with a smile. 'At your service, Lady Thasha.' 'Commander, my father says you're in charge of catching-' 'Forgive the interruption,' said Ott, 'but if you would have me succeed, please lower your voice.'
What a fool she was! She had almost blurted catching Hercуl's attacker loud enough to carry through several cabins. It was exactly the sort of recklessness her father worried about.
'Thank you,' she said, more softly. 'Commander Nagan, can I tell you something that may be of help?' 'I pray you will,' said Ott.
'Hercуl has very strong legs, even for a dancer,' said Thasha, 'and Mr. Ket saw him kick the attacker in the wrist, just after he was stabbed. Whoever the man is, he'll have one blary great bruise at the wrist.'
Ott looked at her with something like admiration. He folded his smoking jacket over his arm. 'You're quite right, Lady Thasha. In fact, that point had not escaped my notice. And relying on your perfect discretion, I will tell you this: we have found four men aboard with such injuries. Two are common sailors, who say they were injured aloft-struck by blocks or cable-ends. The other two are steerage passengers. All four are being held and questioned, but I already have a good idea of the guilty party. His name does not matter, but his own wife admits the man is a deathsmoker, and such addicts will kill for a few cockles to buy their next pipe. Oh yes, there's deathsmoke down in steerage, m'lady, and matches, too. Of course, fire is forbidden-but what are ship's rules to one who will stab an innocent man?' 'But… don't third-class passengers get locked in at night?' 'Indeed they do,' said Ott. 'And no one recalls seeing this man return to steerage at nightfall.'
'So he hid somewhere else in the ship, and waited?' 'Exactly so. And the smell of the drug was everywhere about him.' Thasha took a deep breath. A deathsmoker! Pazel's fears, and her own, began to seem far-fetched. And yet Ramachni knew a conspiracy was under way, an evil mage awaiting his moment to strike. And then there were Hercуl's own fears, the man killed in her garden, the Red Wolf…
'Of course, we will take no chances,' said Ott. 'None of the suspects will leave our sight for a moment, from here to the port of Uturphe.'
'By Uturphe, Hercуl may be dead.'
Ott was silent a moment. 'Perhaps,' he said. 'But I have seen more wounds than anyone should in a single lifetime. I'm a fair judge of death's approach. Your Hercуl has a warrior's toughness, m'lady. For what it's worth, I expect him to live.'
Ott's words made something snap inside her. She found herself shaking. 'I'm sorry,' she said. 'I've been terrified for him. All along. I'm not used to fear, but now I'm sick with it for his sake.'
'All along?' Ott asked gently, eyebrows knitting. 'Before the attack as well?'
Thasha nodded. A moment later it burst from her: 'I don't trust Syrarys. I never have. I can't tell my father- he's too much in love with her to listen. I don't know what to do.'
'Dear lady!' said Ott, taking her arm. 'I think you know exactly what to do, for you have just done it. You have told me your fears.'
'Should I have?' she asked softly. 'I mean, I hardly know you.'
'But I have known you all your life-from a distance. No favorite of His Supremacy is without a guardian officer like myself. When Admiral Isiq married your esteemed mother, I guarded the outer temple. When she died, I stood watch at the cemetery.'
Thasha looked at him in astonishment. 'You… were there?'
'When you were born,' said Ott, 'my guard company built the summerhouse that stands in your garden, as a token of the Emperor's affection. Your mother loved that garden. What a tragedy she enjoyed it so briefly.'
A lump swelled in Thasha's throat. This old man had protected them her whole life, and never asked for a
