I snorted. “Guarding Talon is almost as dangerous as guarding me. You’ve gone from apothecary’s apprentice to bodyguard for the next goblin king in three short months. Impressive.”
Piaras swallowed. “No pressure.”
“Just do your best,” Tam said. “That’s all I or anyone else could ask.”
“That much I can do.”
“I’m going to give Talon the same duty of guarding the prince,” Mychael told Piaras. “One, it’ll keep him occupied. Two, perhaps the two of them will actually stay together and make it easier for you.”
“Hopefully.”
“Just try to keep both of them from doing anything stupid.”
“Put them to sleep if you have to,” Imala said. “You have my permission and blessing.”
“And if you’re found here and have to clear out,” Mychael continued, “do what you can to keep them together… and well, as safe as you can.”
Piaras’s eyes had gotten progressively larger with each word. I couldn’t resist giving him a big slap on the back.
“No pressure on your first mission, huh? We get to find a mage who doesn’t want to be found while playing hide- and-seek with Khrynsani patrols. It sounds almost tame in comparison.”
Piaras looked at Mychael in mute appeal. Mychael was immune.
“I’m afraid that’s an order, Cadet Rivalin. There’s no way we’re taking those two with us, and for everyone’s safety and well-being, we can’t leave them here under their own supervision.”
Nath walked up and overheard. “You didn’t assign Mother to him? Damn, I was hoping for some backup.”
Tam smiled. “She too much for you?”
“And for you, too. Always has been. Speaking of too much to handle, you started the ball rolling that ruined Kesyn Badru’s career. If he spots you first, you might just find him quicker than you want to.”
Jash walked toward us carrying a stack of something dark. “Paladin, here are the clothes you requested.”
Mychael jerked his head at Piaras. “They’re for him.”
“Change out of my uniform, sir?”
“If you have to step foot outside of this house, what you’re wearing will get you killed. You’ll attract less danger to yourself and others if you get out of that uniform. A Guardian isn’t the uniform he wears, but the actions he takes.”
Piaras looked down at the pile of miscellaneous dark clothing topped by a quilted leather arming jacket with steel plates glinting dully on the underside. It wouldn’t keep out a bolt, but a crappy shot would probably be deflected. It would serve him well against most small-arms attacks. I’d prefer it if Piaras were encased in head-to- toe armor or, best of all, if he weren’t here at all, but this would have to do.
Talon appeared from around the corner. He’d changed out of his uniform, too. Talon wearing dark clothes in less- than-optimal condition made him look like a young highwayman who’d been too long between a good score— dashing, yet disreputable.
Talon picked distastefully at the frayed fabric. “I had to do the same thing.” He shrugged. “I’ve worn worse.” He brushed at mud that looked like it’d been on there a long time, and wasn’t coming off anytime soon. “Once.”
“It’s called blending in,” I told them both. “Sometimes being the center of attention only gets you killed first.”
“Then I’ll suffer the indignity,” Talon said.
“I thought you might.”
“One more thing, Cadets.” Mychael handed each of them a gorget. The steel collars were high enough to protect their throats with a bib of overlapping armored scales to keep a blade from going up underneath it.
Talon took the gorget, but held it with as few fingers as necessary. “And I would want to wear this because… ?”
“Because the preferred way to kill a spellsinger is with a bolt through the throat,” Tam told him.
Talon’s eyes got a little wide. “Got anything bigger? Even tackier, perhaps?”
“Where was the last place your teacher lived?” I asked Tam.
“The oldest section of the city, near the south wall.”
“One of my people told me that the Khrynsani have searched it before,” Imala said, “and still have it under surveillance.”
“We’ve also eliminated the next two most likely places Kesyn would be,” Tam said. “Jash says one burnt to the ground six months ago, the other is being used by the Khrynsani as a base of operations in the outer city.”
“Which leaves us with… ?” I prompted.
“One of the last places any of us want to go.”
Chapter 9
But when the people you needed to avoid were goblins, broad daylight was the way to go.
It wasn’t like we were strolling down the middle of the street, but I still felt as naked as the day I was born. Though I had to admit there was something strangely liberating about doing my sneaking and death dodging on a sunny afternoon. It almost made me forget there was a humongous price on my head.
Almost.
Sarad Nukpana and his allies were in control of the city. Goblins weren’t fond of direct sunlight, so they stayed inside if at all possible. That simply meant we weren’t likely to see as many goblins on the streets, and any goblin out and about would be cloaked and hooded. Worked for us. Mychael and I could hide pale skin, ears, and eyes that were a color other than black. We were cowled, cloaked, and cautious.
Where Imala was leading us, we saw more rats than goblins. In fact, we didn’t see anyone—but that didn’t mean no one was seeing us. Since it was the middle of the day, empty streets and shuttered shops shouldn’t be all that unusual. But too many of the shops I’d caught glimpses of through the alleys we’d passed weren’t just shuttered; they were closed, and looked like they had been that way for a while.
Imala noticed me noticing.
“The people are afraid,” she said. “My agents have told me that Sathrik no longer limits his arrests to magic users.”
I frowned. “I imagine the Saghred will take plain old souls when it can’t get the magic-flavored kind.”
Imala nodded. “Sathrik knows that the people of this city are more than capable of rising up against him. Those who are able and willing are helping us.”
“With the rest hiding behind locked doors until this is all over with.”
“The majority of goblins are peace loving. All we want is to live our lives and raise our families.”
“So where does the goblin national pastime of spying and intrigue fit into that?”
Imala smiled. “Between the living and raising parts.”
It didn’t look like this had always been the bad part of town. Though with Sarad Nukpana in charge, the entire city now shared that distinction. The town houses along the length of street we were on now looked for the most part as if they’d been abandoned, discarded for something new and trendy.
Kind of like what Tam had done to Kesyn Badru all those years ago.
And Tam felt responsible, at least to a point. Like many mage-wannabe teenagers, Tam had thought he wasn’t being taught fast enough. Pretty much without fail, teenagers were confident that they knew everything; they underestimated their limitations and overestimated their abilities. Magic wasn’t only about casting spells and building wards; it was knowing when to do it—or, most important, when not to do it and why. That meant acknowledging your shortcomings, your weaknesses, and taking responsibility for the consequences of your actions—things a lot of egocentric, magically talented teenagers weren’t keen on doing.
Sarad Nukpana and Tam had both been Kesyn Badru’s students. Nukpana had chosen the dark path; Tam had
