else in the gardens was under thirty, and not a one bore the slightest resemblance to Grisarius. As I reached the north gates, where I had begun, I again had the feeling of being watched.
Since Grisarius wasn’t in the public garden, and since I felt the observer was on the boulevard somewhere, I turned and walked back through the gardens to the south gate. From there, I walked three blocks south to Marchand, crossed it, and came to the next street, much narrower and meaner. The faded letters on the corner wall read LEZENBLY. There was no boardinghouse or pension anywhere among the older and moderately well-kept stone dwellings situated on the two blocks that led north to Sudroad. So I retraced my steps and headed back southward on Lezenbly. At the end of the first block on Lezenbly south of where I’d started, I saw a white-haired figure sitting on a shaded side porch. So I opened the gate and walked around to the side.
“Grisarius? Or should I call you Emanus?”
The older man jerked in the chair. I hadn’t realized that he hadn’t been reading, but dozing, still holding the book. He just watched as I took the stone steps and then pulled up a straight-backed chair across from him. My feet ached, and I was more than a little hot.
The old man squinted at me. “Imager. Ought to know you, shouldn’t I?”
“Rhennthyl. I was a journeyman for Caliostrus before I became an imager. I did a study in the journeyman competition in Ianus that you liked. A chessboard.”
He frowned, then nodded slowly. “You’re the one.”
That suggested something. “Has someone been asking about me?”
“Not as such. Staela-the bitch at Lapinina-she was saying that some imager had stopped by a month or so ago, said he’d been an artist, but he scared off a bunch of people.”
“That was me.”
Grisarius nodded again.
“I went to see Madame D’Caliostrus. She’d sold the place and left. There was something about an annuity. The mason working on the walls said Elphens had bought it.”
“Ah, yes . . . young Elphens . . .”
“How could he afford to purchase it? How did he make master so quickly?”
A crooked smile appeared above the wispy goatee. “Might have to do with his father.”
“Who is his father?”
“A High Holder from Tilbora . . . Tillak or some such.”
“A son on the back side of the blanket?”
“Something like that.”
I shook my head. That figured. “That must have brought the guild a few golds.”
“The masters who voted on him, anyway.” Emanus snorted.
“I never knew Caliostrus had a patron who would have purchased an annuity on his life.”
“He probably didn’t. That’s always what they say when someone makes a settlement.”
“But who . . . why?”
“Rumor was that the fire wasn’t natural-like.” The old artisan shrugged. “It could be anyone. For any reason. That son of his was trouble all the way round. Could be that the fire was meant for Ostrius, and the settlement was because Caliostrus got caught accidentally. Or it could be that it was just easier to send the widow packing so that questions didn’t get asked. You’re young, for an imager. You’ll see.”
“You’ve seen a great deal, haven’t you?” I hoped he’d say more.
“There’s much to be seen, if you only look. Most people don’t see things that are right before them because it goes against what they believe or what they want to believe.”
“You know that I could never find a master to take me on as a journeyman.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.” Emanus offered a twisted smile. “I don’t think it happened that way, but it wouldn’t have surprised me if someone went after Caliostrus because you’d have made master if he’d lived, and half the portraiture masters in L’Excelsis don’t have your talent.”
“Were you forced out of the guild?”
“Let’s just say that it was better that I let it happen. Didn’t have much choice, but I got to watch the mess Estafen and Reayalt made when they took over.”
“You were the guildmaster?”
He nodded. “I prided myself on being fair. Most people don’t like that, and when they found out a few things . . . Like I said, it was better that I let them trump up a scandal than what might have happened.” There was a wry smile. “What might have happened remains my business, and I can at least take consolation that I wasn’t the cause of anyone getting hurt.”
“Except yourself, sir.”
“That’s a choice we sometimes have to make.” He shook his head. “That was a long time ago, and there’s nothing that anyone can do now.”
It might have been my thinking about Johanyr and the tactics he’d used, but I couldn’t help asking, “Was it someone in your family you had to protect?”
“Why would you ask that, young Rhennthyl?”
“I watched a High Holder’s son do something like that not too long ago.”
“What did you do?”
“Blinded him enough so that he’ll never image again.”
“And you’re still alive?”
“So far. I’ve been shot once.”
Emanus looked at me, then leaned back in the chair. “Why did you seek me?”
“I thought you might be able to tell me if someone was hiring bravos to go after me, or if I needed to look elsewhere.”
“You seem to think I know more than I do.”
“You’ve seen a great deal, and far more than I have.”
“You flatter me with my own words.” Emanus laughed. “Estafen, Reayalt, and Jacquerl wouldn’t go after you, not once you became an imager. Caliostrus’s and Ostrius’s deaths benefited them, and they’d not wish to have any cloud drawn to them.”
I frowned, but waited.
“Caliostrus had a brother. Thelal. He was a tilesetter, journeyman. Liked the plonk too much. Caliostrus gave him silvers. Madame Caliostrus didn’t like it. If I had to wager, I’d say Thelal was involved. Either him or that High Holder.” He frowned. “High Holder’s not likely. Most High Holders would make you suffer for years.”
“Do you know where I might find Thelal?”
“From what I’ve heard, I doubt Thelal knows where he’ll find himself tonight.”
After that, while Emanus was pleasant enough, I didn’t learn much more, and I began to have the feeling that someone was watching us. So, finally, I stood. “Thank you. I appreciate your talking to me.”
“Best of fortune.” His face quirked into a strange smile. “You might remember that truth has little to do with the acts and decisions of most folks.”
Rather than leave by the front gate, I went down the porch steps and then hurried to the alleyway behind the pension, making my way eastward. I was back on Marchand, almost to Sudroad, when I caught sight of a man almost a block behind me. I couldn’t make him out clearly, because he was on the shadowed side of the street. I turned northward on Sudroad toward the Guild Square, and kept checking. He was still following, holding to the shadows, but I could make out that he wore a light-colored vest. I stopped to look at a crystal decanter in the glassblower’s window. He halted to talk to a man selling kerchiefs and straw hats.
There had to be some way to separate him from the Samedi crowds around the Guild Square. I passed one alleyway, but it was a dead end. The second one ran clear through, if at an angle, to Carolis, and the entire alleyway was cloaked in shadow. I ducked into the alleyway, then hurried down the north side. I didn’t hide behind the first pile of broken crates, because that was obvious, but instead slipped into a niche where the rear walls of two buildings joined. Once there, I created a brownish shadow shield that matched the painted plaster walls.
Then I waited in the shadows behind the shield that I had imaged, as the man peered this way and that. I also raised shields against a bullet or a blade, but since the bravo-or possible assassin-hadn’t done anything but follow me, I really couldn’t do much more. Not yet. He kept moving and peering, but before long walked past me. As he passed, I got a good look at him. He was the same man in the yellowish tan vest and wash-blue shirt who
