“Huh. But you think I can get into the pantry.”
“At night, if you’re very careful.”
“Suppose I was invisible, had no scent, made no sound?” she asked.
“You might make it another fifteen paces, as some of the others did.”
“Well, then,” she said. “Thanks, Glim, that’s very helpful.”
“You’re going to get yourself killed,” he said. “You remember the last time you tried to make someone invisible? For a week all my organs were on display for everyone to see.”
“I’ve learned a lot since then,” she assured him.
“I hope so. When are you going?”
“Tonight.”
Annaig was wakened by a gentle pressure on her arm. She opened her eyes and found Dulg standing there, his little froglike form perched on the stool by her bed.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Chef Toel requires your presence,” he said.
She stirred, rubbing her eyes. “What’s going on?”
“That’s not for you to ask,” Dulg replied.
She looked around. “Where is Slyr?” she asked.
“Summoned earlier,” Dulg supplied.
“Did she wear my gold-and-black gown?”
Dulg looked a bit puzzled. “You said I could offer it to her.”
“Right. I did, didn’t I? Well, just fetch me the black one.”
Dulg nodded and bounded off.
An hour later, properly dressed and coiffed, she met Toel on his balcony. He wasn’t alone this time. His underchefs Intovar and Yeum stood on either side of him. Intovar was a spindly fellow with dirty yellow hair and an air of the rodent about him. Yeum was a thick woman with an appealing, heart-shaped face and dusky skin. Neither had ever spoken to her except to give her orders.
Slyr was also there, of course.
On the other side of the balcony-as if relegated there by an invisible line-stood another party. The obvious leader was an impressively tall, narrow woman with close-cropped hair and large emerald eyes. She was accompanied by two men, one brick red with horns and the other a merish-looking person who looked perpetually surprised.
“Chef Toel,” Annaig said, bowing her head slightly.
He smiled oddly and gestured at the green-eyed woman. “I should like to present you to Chef Phmer, and also her assistants Jolha and Egren.”
“An honor, Chefs,” Annaig replied.
Phmer smiled, but it reminded Annaig of the toothy grin of the piranhas that lived in the dunkwaters.
“I’m told you are to thank-or blame-for many of the fads passing through some kitchens,” she said. Her voice was silk, coiled thick and made into a noose.
“I suppose I might be,” Annaig replied.
“And yet your inventiveness would appear to have its limits.”
“Everything has limits,” Annaig said cautiously.
“And yet fetching up against these limits has tempted you to do something rather costly,” Phmer went on.
Annaig looked at Toel, whose expression was blank.
“I don’t understand,” she said.
Phmer’s expression changed, going from one of apparent good humor to barely checked rage.
“Do you deny you broke into my kitchen last night in an attempt to steal the secret of the ninth savor?”
“Chef,” Annaig said, “I do. I certainly do.”
“And yet we have testimony that you did. And other evidence.”
“Testimony?”
But she couldn’t miss the suppressed look of triumph on Slyr’s face.
“If you did this thing,” Toel said, “you know I must give you over to her. It is the law.”
“It’s permissible to invade another kitchen wholesale and slaughter everyone there, but not to sneak into one to steal?”
“I obtained permission for my raid on Qijne’s kitchen,” he replied. “Nor is that here nor there. You are not the head of a kitchen. Did you do this? Did you try to steal from Phmer?”
“I’ve already said I didn’t,” Annaig pointed out.
“Well, we shall see about that,” Phmer said. She gestured at a box on the floor, and her red-skinned underchef bent to it. He unlatched one side of the thing, and something crawled out.
She thought at first it was a spider, but its legs weren’t rigid; nor were they as supple as those of a squid, but something in between. And-she realized as it unfolded them-it had wings, rather like those of a mosquito, and in fact now it somewhat resembled one, albeit one that could fit into the palm of her hand.
The wings blurred into motion, and the little creature lifted into the air; three stalks or antennae began probing about as it approached her. She remained still, wondering if it had some sort of sting, and if she had made a mistake. She tried to slow her heart with simple willpower, but it thudded on irrespective.
The tentacles tickled across her face and down her dress, lingering on her left hand, but then the creature darted over to Slyr and began to make an annoying high-pitched sound. Phmer frowned, but Toel’s lips turned up.
Slyr just looked puzzled, then aghast.
Toel lifted his hand toward Phmer, then turned it gently toward Slyr. Two of his guards took Slyr by the shoulders, and the woman looked wildly at Annaig.
Phmer reached into one of Slyr’s pockets, and then the other. From the second she withdrew a small vial. She uncorked it, sniffed it, and then tasted a bit on her finger.
“This is it,” she said. “The scent of my kitchen is on her dress, the ninth savor in her pocket. Do you need more?”
“I do not,” Toel said. “The evidence is clear enough.”
“How did you do it?” Phmer asked Slyr. “There was sign that you had been in the kitchen, but my best safeguards are those around the taste itself, and you left no trace there. I must know how you did this.”
“I didn’t!” Slyr exploded. “It was Annaig! Somehow she made it look as if-why would I warn you she was going to steal from you if it was really me coming? Why would I-This is her doing!” She plucked wildly at her clothing, as if discovering it was made of fire. “This is her dress! She’s tricked us all somehow.”
“Let me understand this,” Toel said softly. “You warned Phmer against someone on my staff? Behind my back?”
Slyr shrank back, like a cornered animal, a little whimper escaping her.
“She remains mine,” Phmer said.
“Oh, you may have her,” Toel replied. “I have no doubt you will extract revenge enough for both of us.”
“First there will be questions,” she said. “Many, many questions.” She nodded at Annaig. “I would question her as well.”
“There is no evidence against her other than the testimony of a thief,” Toel replied. “You may not have her.”
Phmer lifted her chin haughtily, but she didn’t argue. Instead she signed for her creature to take Slyr.
“Annaig, please,” Slyr whimpered.
She felt her heart soften, remembering her first few weeks in the bowels of Umbriel, nights with Slyr, gazing at the stars.
“It’s not in my hands, Slyr,” she said quietly. “Your own actions brought you to this.”
And so they dragged Slyr off. She didn’t beg or plead again, at least not in Annaig’s earshot.
When they were gone, Toel indicated one of the chairs.
“Sit,” he said.
She did as he commanded.
