should not be out so late. It isn’t safe.”
Qhora nodded slowly. “I had noticed that.”
They resumed their unhurried walk through the rain to the hotel. Atoq followed behind them, sniffing about in the gutters and puddles along the way.
“Enzo, I owe you an apology,” she said.
Lorenzo stopped abruptly and snatched the wide-brimmed hat from his head. He stared at her, eyes wide with a strange mixture of horror and confusion. She studied his thin, pale face as the rainwater ran down over his sharp nose and cheeks. Once he had worn a tanned skin and a ready smile, and he was as likely to be laughing as singing when she found him. But now he was merely this, merely a thin figure, dark and quiet, anxious and uncertain. The lines around his eyes had deepened so much in the last few months, aging him beyond what had once been a youthful twenty-five. The rough stubble on his cheeks added a few years of their own.
She said, “I’ve been unkind to you, my love. Over the last year, you’ve done nothing but serve me with great skill and greater patience. And I’ve done nothing but complain. I complain about your boring priests and your bland food, your ghost stories, and even the weather.”
He nodded slowly, his face a blank. “It is very cold in Espana, my lady.”
“But what good does it do to complain about it?” Qhora shivered as a trickle of freezing rain snaked down from her hair along the curve of her spine. “I realize that I’ve been comparing Espana to Jisquntin Suyu, which is unfair. Espana is a strange place, but it is beautiful too in its own way. And your people have many fine qualities. Loyalty, devotion, discipline. Beyond that of my own people, I admit.”
“No, my love.” Lorenzo wiped his gloved hand across his face to push his soaked hair back. “We’re only people, no better or worse than any other.”
“Of course you’re better than others.” Qhora tried not to snap too sharply at him. Sometimes his humility goes too far. “You’re better than these Mazighs. You’ve sung their praises to me for the last two weeks, and here I find a filthy city full of vagrants and killers. No. I’m sorry, Enzo. The Espani are a fine and noble people and I am grateful that you took me in when I had no place to go. And I will be just as grateful to be done with this errand and back in Tartessos, listening to your hymns and ghost stories again. And with a much more grateful heart.”
“I know it’s been difficult for you. Maybe, after we go home, we can find a way to make things more comfortable for you.” He smiled faintly as he replaced his hat and they continued walking, the saber-toothed cat always just a few paces away. “Tonight may count as a ghost story, you know. If Ariel hadn’t warned me, we might have been unprepared. We might have been hurt.”
Qhora pressed her lips for a moment before answering. “Yes, Enzo. But the next time your little ghost friend warns us about something, please have her be more specific about where the enemy is hiding.”
He said, “I will do that.”
They rounded the corner and saw the dark windows of their hotel reflecting the light of the oil lamps hanging across the street.
“Have your horses ready at dawn,” Qhora said. “I want to be on the road as soon as possible. And be certain they give Wayra fresh meat. I don’t trust these Mazighs to keep their filth out of our food.”
“Yes, my love.”
She saw his hand resting on his chest, on the medallion hanging around his neck beneath his shirt, as he stared up at the moon. He isn’t even here, is he? He’s off with his god and his ghosts, hating this life and dreaming of the next one. Enzo, when did I lose you?
Chapter 5. Sade
The porter brought the telegram just as Lady Sade began thinking that it was time to go to bed. She took the envelope, dismissed the man, and went to sit at her desk in the corner of her study. The message was from a certain young woman who worked in the customs office in Tingis, a young woman with the good fortune to receive a second paycheck in return for sending daily reports to her benefactor in Arafez.
Lady Sade sighed as she unlocked the bottom desk drawer and pulled out the translation key. It took half an hour to decipher the telegram’s handful of words and she spent most of that time wondering if this elaborate means of security was really worth the effort and trouble.
Of course it is. The stakes are too high.
The translated message read, “Morning. Copper prices still rising. Storms reported to west. Persian steamer seen in Strait. Afternoon. Chaou met envoys. Brought two fanged cats. Chaou upset. Evening. Train explosion. Airship explosion. Many dead. Hamuy arrested. Chaou missing.”
Lady Sade frowned at those last words. Arrested. Missing.
Damn it, Barika.
She rang a small bell on her desk and a moment later her secretary entered. “Yes, madam?”
“I need a cat, Izza. Two would be ideal, but one will do.”
“Any particular type, madam?”
“Something with large fangs, if possible. Something Espani would be best. At the very least, it must be foreign and about this large.” She held up her hands two feet apart.
“Yes, madam,” Izza said. “I’m not sure how long it will take to secure an exotic animal. When do you need it?”
“Noon tomorrow.” Lady Sade watched the young woman hesitate, swallow, and wet her lips. “Have the cage loaded on my steam carriage, out of sight.”
Izza nodded. “Of course, madam. I’ll see to it immediately. Will this impact your meeting with the police detective? You have that scheduled at noon as well.”
I forgot. I never forget. I’m relying too much on Izza these days. Lady Sade paused. “No, that’s fine. I’ll just bring the detective with me. Two birds with one stone. She doesn’t speak Espani, does she? No, I can’t imagine she does, so that won’t be a problem.”
Lady Sade picked up her translation of the telegram again.
Train explosion. That could mean anything. Damn it, Barika.
“And Izza, we will need to pay a quick visit to the North Station first thing after breakfast tomorrow. I need to see about a train.”
“Of course, madam.”
“Thank you, Izza.”
Izza curtsied and left. Lady Sade leaned back in her chair, idly wondering what lengths the poor girl would go to in finding the animal. I really should get her a gift, or maybe give her an afternoon off sometime. She’s been looking a little tired lately.
Chapter 6. Syfax
“I can’t wait for your captain all night.” Syfax paced the length of the front desk of the Port Chellah central police station. It was a short walk. “I’ve got a prisoner I need to get off the airfield into a cell, and a murderer about to enter the city on foot. You.” He pointed at the young woman at the desk. “Get up. You’re coming with me. Now.”
“Sorry, sir. But I’m the only one here and I can’t go anywhere without Captain Aknin’s order.” The sergeant in gray folded her hands on the desk.
Are you kidding me, kid? Syfax pointed at the bars on his shoulder. “I outrank your captain.”
“And I appreciate that, but you’re outside my chain of command, sir. You’re Security Section Two, we’re Section Five.” The sergeant swallowed, her thumbs fidgeting. “It’s protocol. My hands are tied until my captain gets here.”
“And when will that be? You sent for her over half an hour ago.”
She shrugged and dropped her gaze to her hands. “I assume she’ll be here soon, sir. You know as much as I
