The three brocade armchairs were already occupied when Lady Sarai stepped into Mereth’s front room— Alorria sat in the green, sound asleep; Kelder of Tazmor was in the gold, awake but visibly weary; and an old man Sarai didn’t recognize dozed in the blue. Two soldiers leaned against the wall, one of them brushing his elbow against an ink painting; young Thar, who had admitted Sarai, eyed that nervously but said nothing. A few salvaged belongings were in battered knapsacks, stacked in odd corners, looking rather grubby and out of place. The little decorative boxes had all been shoved to one side of the table, making room for a plate covered with crumbs— whatever food had been provided, Sarai had clearly missed it.
“Is Mereth here?” Sarai asked. “Or Tobas?”
Thar shook his head. “No,” he said, “they’re over at the Guildhouse.”
Lady Sarai blinked. “What Guildhouse?” she asked.
“Guildmaster Serem’s house, on Grand Street,” Thar explained. “Lirrin turned it over to the Wizards’ Guild until Serem’s murderer is caught.” He shrugged. “She doesn’t need all that space, anyway.”
Sarai nodded. That explained why there had been several other wizards there, as well as Lirrin, when she took Teneria and Luralla to see the murder scene. Naturally, the wizards hadn’t said anything about it to her. “Are they... what’s happening there?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Thar said. “I’m just an apprentice.”
“Are they looking for a way to stop Tabaea?”
“I don’t know—honestly, Lady Sarai, I don’t know.”
“I’m going there,” Sarai said. She turned back toward the door.
“No, Lady Sarai,” Thar protested, “not at this hour! In the morning we’ll all go, but right now everyone needs to rest. That’s what Guildmaster Telurinon said. I’ll be taking Princess Alorria myself.”
“We don’t have time to rest,” Sarai objected. “Tabaea isn’t sleeping, is she?”
“I don’t know, maybe she is, but whatever she’s doing, we should rest. Or at least, you should—I have to stay up in case anyone else comes.”
Lady Sarai hesitated.
“Tabaea isn’t going to come after us tonight, my lady. Honestly, she won’t.”
Sarai studied Thar’s face and saw a child trying hard to be grown up, a child on the very edge of complete exhaustion. She thought if she argued he would probably start crying.
She didn’t want that, and besides, he was right; she was incredibly tired herself. It had been an abominably long day. Hard as it was to remember, when she had gotten up the morning before, about twenty hours ago, she had not yet heard the name “Tabaea the Thief,” and she had never met Tolthar of Small-gate.
“The chairs are all taken,” she said.
Thar smiled with relief. “The guest beds are all taken, too,” he said, “but you can use mine. I have to stay up and watch the door, any way.” Sarai nodded.
The apprentice’s bed was lumpy and narrow, and she didn’t sleep well; it seemed as if she had only just managed to get comfortable, at long last, when a guard’s polite cough awakened her.
“They’re getting ready to go to the Guildhouse, my lady,” he said. Then he ducked back beyond the curtain that separated Thar’s niche from Mereth’s kitchen, leaving her to her own devices.
Lady Sarai rose and brushed herself off, then straightened her clothes as best she could; there was no need to get dressed, since she had brought none of her clothing out of the palace with her except the outfit she was wearing. She had packed a few things for her father and brother, but had not worried about her own needs.
She made a quick trip to the privy in the courtyard behind the shop, then rinsed her face with water from the kitchen pump— Mereth was lucky, having a pump right there; or perhaps, since she had surely paid a good bit of money for it, “lucky” was not exactly the right word.
Feeling a little more alert and socially acceptable, Sarai hurried back down the corridor to the consultation room.
A crowd of people was gathered there—everyone who had been present the night before, and others as well. Sarai recognized some of them, but by no means all; there were magicians of various sorts, minor officials in the overlord’s government, and people who could have come’from anywhere.
And they were all arguing about something, but Sarai could make out nothing of what they were debating. She looked around for help.
The two guards were both there, but this time, instead of standing to one side, they were among those arguing most intently. Thar, however, was leaning silently against the archway, looking distressed.
“What’s happening?” Sarai asked him.
The apprentice looked up at her unhappily. “They’re arguing about how to go to the Guildhouse.”
Sarai blinked. “I had assumed we would walk,” she said.
“Well, yes,” Thar agreed. He paused, considering, then added, “Except maybe some of the wizards and warlocks—I suppose they might fly.”
“Wouldn’t that attract attention?”
“Probably.”
“So if we’re walking,” Lady Sarai asked, trying not to let her exasperation show, “what are they arguing about?”
“Whether we should all go at once, or go separately. Some of them think we should go together, in one big group, but the others think that would be too noticeable.”
“That’s stupid,” Sarai said. “Of course we’d be too noticeable.” She raised her voice and announced, “I’m going to the Guildhouse now; I’d be glad to travel with one or two others.” “But Lady Sarai...” one of the guards began.
Lady Sarai did not stay to hear what he might have to say; she marched out the door onto Wizard Street.
The morning was a bright and cheerful one; she could hear children laughing as they chased each other through the alleys, and somewhere a block or two away a hawker was shouting out praises of his wares. There was no outward sign at all that a dangerous lunatic had overthrown the government the night before, that the overlord and half his court had fled.
In fact, Lady Sarai suspected that most of the city was unaware of Tabaea’s accession to the throne. It would probably be a few days before the average citizen became aware of any change.
Or perhaps not—one of the shops across the way was shuttered and barred. Had the proprietor fled?
Or maybe the proprietor was in bed with a fever, or just taking a day off to go down to the beach. Lady Sarai snorted at her own eagerness to see some difference in the city. Just because her own life was all awry, that didn’t mean that the entire city’s was.
She did expect that Tabaea’s usurpation of power would have its effect eventually, since she doubted very much that Tabaea and her cohorts could rule the city as well as the old overlord had, but it would be a slow, subtle thing. A city the size of Ethshar mostly ran by itself. Lady Sarai thought of it as a great spinning top, and it was the government’s job to keep it balanced—a touch here, a touch there. Tabaea would be bound to miss a wobble here, push too hard there, and before long the whole thing would careen wildly out of control, maybe come smashing to a halt.
But for now, it looked just as it always had. She paused a few steps from Mereth’s gilded door, looking about.
“Lady Sarai!” someone called. Sarai turned, a finger to her lips.
It was Alorria who had spoken; she stood in the doorway, leaning forward, her feet still safely within the threshold in case she had to slip quickly back inside. Behind her stood Kelder of Tazmor on one side, Thar on the other.
“Don’t use the title,” Sarai said mildly. “It might be unhealthy just now.”
“Oh,” Alorria said. She looked uneasily out at the street.
“What is it?” Sarai asked.
“I’d like to come with you,” Alorria said. “I think they’re going to argue all day, and I want to see my husband. And I don’t know the way to this Guildhouse they talk about. And I don’t like traveling alone.”
“I would be glad to provide an escort,” Kelder said, in his odd Sardironese accent, “but I fear I don’t know the house’s location, either.”
“Well, come on then, both of you.” Sarai waited while the two of them hurried out. Kelder, she noted,
