“To kill,” Sarai explained. “As part of a spell.”
Alorria frowned. “You’re doing magic now? Isn’t there enough of that already?”
Sarai shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said. “Is there?”
“Well, I certainly thought so,” Alorria said, settling awkwardly onto the edge of the nearest bed. “That’s where Tobas and Kara are—the Wizards’ Guild is trying some horrible spell on Tabaea, with the help of the warlocks, and Karanissa and the other witches are all standing by to help, at the palace or the Guildhouse or places in between.”
“What kind of a spell?” Sarai asked, seating herself on the next bed over. She berated herself for not realizing that the wizards would still be trying their spells on Tabaea, even without knowing the Black Dagger had been removed, and she suddenly wished that she had gone straight to the Guildhouse when she had first stolen the dagger. She didn’t like it when things went on that she didn’t know about, particularly anything as bizarre as wizards and warlocks working together.
And how could warlocks help with anything, when Tabaea was a warlock herself? Warlockry didn’t work on warlocks.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Alorria said, flustered. “I leave all the magic up to Tobas and Kara, and I take care of the rest of it.”
“Oh, but...” Sarai began.
Alorria interrupted, “It’s called the Seething Death; Tobas got it from that horrible old book of Derithon’s, and nobody’s used it in about five hundred years.”
Sarai’s mouth twitched. “I thought you didn’t know anything about magic.”
“I don’t,” Alorria insisted, “not really. But I do know about my husband.” She smiled weakly.
Sarai smiled back, but it was not a terribly sincere smile. “The Seething Death” sounded dangerous, and she had never heard of it before. Maybe building up her strength with an ox could wait; watching this spell might be more important. And some high official of the overlord’s government ought to be there when Tabaea died. The overlord himself had sailed off to Eth-shar of the Spices with Lord Tbllern and Sarai’s own father and the rest, and Lord Torrut was in hiding; Sarai knew she was probably the highest-ranking official available.
That assumed that the spell would work on Tabaea, but with the Black Dagger gone Sarai thought that was a reasonable assumption. And if it didn ’t kill her, Sarai wanted to see that, too, to see how Tabaea defended herself without the knife.
“The Seething Death,” the spell was called. Where had it come from, anyway?
“Who’s Derithon?” she asked, “Derithon the Mage,” Alorria said. “Karanissa’s first husband—or lover, anyway. He’s been dead for centuries. She had his book of spells when she first met Tobas, and she couldn’t use it, since she’s a witch instead of a wizard, so she gave it to Tobas, and that’s where he got most of his magic.”
“Centuries?” There was obviously even more of a story to this threesome than she had realized.
“Derithon put a youth spell on her. How much does an ox cost, anyway?”
“About three rounds of silver, I think. So Tobas is working this Seething Death spell?”
“Oh, no!” Alorria said. “He thinks it’s much too dangerous, that it’s really stupid. Telurinon did it before Tobas could stop him.”
The last remnants of Sarai’s smile vanished. She stood up. “I think I better go,” she said. “Forget about the ox; I need to see what’s going on at the palace.” Alorria smiled up at her. “Be careful,” she said. Sarai didn’t answer; she was already on her way out the door. Tobas was a sensible person, despite his peculiar domestic arrangements, but Telurinon—Telurinon was an overeducated idiot who wanted to prove to the Inner Circle how powerful he was. What’s more, he was an overeducated idiot who still thought Tabaea had the Black Dagger protecting her.
Whatever this spell was, Telurinon expected it to overpower the Black Dagger. Sarai was sure of that; Tobas or Heremon or Algarin might have found some way around the dagger’s magic, but Telurinon would have just thrown more and more magic back at it. Unchecked wizardry could do an amazing amount of damage, and there was no Black Dagger in the palace to blunt this Seething Death.
Sarai had to force herself not to draw attention by running as she headed for the palace.
CHAPTER 36
Everyone knew that there were things in life that stayed interesting, and things that got dull fairly quickly; this was no revelation to the Empress Tabaea, who considered herself to be an intelligent person, and who thought she had a pretty good idea of how the World worked.
All the same, she was rather surprised to find that ruling a city was one of the things that got dull quickly.
In fact, by the end of her first sixnight as empress, she was bored with the whole business and had begun trying to find ways to make it more enjoyable.
An obvious one would be to appoint someone else to handle the tedious parts of the job, but that would require finding someone she trusted to do it properly, and as yet she hadn’t found such a person. Sometimes it seemed as if there wasn’t anyone in her entire court with the wit of a spriggan.
There were times she wasn’t sure she was much better than the others, at that.
And then there was the loneliness. She had never exactly been popular company, but at least she had usually had friends to talk to, just about everyday matters. She could discuss the fine points of housebreaking with other burglars, gripe about the city guard to anyone in the Wall Street Field—but all her old friends were scared of her now. Not only was she the empress, but she was a magician, with her superhuman strength and all the rest of her abilities. And she had beaten Jandin and thrown that stupid old woman around.
So everyone was frightened of her.
She could still talk to them, of course, but it wasn’t the same; they wouldn’t dare say anything she didn’t want to hear, or, rather, anything they thought that she might possibly not want to hear.
The remaining palace servants were actually better company now; they were accustomed to dealing with powerful people, and they weren’t anywhere near as frightened of her as most of the others—but on the other hand, they didn’t seem to have much to say. They were mostly concerned with clothes and meals and furniture, with how to keep the rugs clean, and what tunic went well with which skirt.
And they were all women. Tabaea didn’t understand that. Surely, the overlord had had male servants; where had they all gone?
Wherever they were, she didn’t see them. Perhaps they were still there, working down in the depths of the palace kitchens, or the stables, or any of the other places that the empress didn’t go, but they certainly weren’t bringing her her meals or waiting on her in her apartments.
They might be mixed in with the crowds in the corridors, of course.
And that was another source of her displeasure, she thought as she left her apartments and headed for the throne room. Here she had done everything she could to be an enlightened and benevolent ruler, and nobody seemed to appreciate it. She had freed all the slaves, had emptied the overlord’s dungeons, had pardoned any number of criminals, had invited the entire population of the Wall Street Field to live in the palace, had in fact thrown the palace open to anyone who cared to enter—by her order, all the doors were kept open in good weather, and were always unlocked in any weather—and what had it gotten her? Had those people been grateful to her? Had they taken advantage of this chance to improve themselves? Had any of them tried to repay her by helping out, even such little things as cleaning up after themselves, as she had asked?
No. Of course not. All she had to do was glance about to see that. The palace corridors were littered with cast-off rags, with fruit rinds and chicken bones and other remnants of stolen meals, and they stank of urine and worse. Dead bodies were left unattended until they began to stink, if she or one of the servants didn’t happen on them; out hi the Wall Street Field someone would have informed the city guard and the body would have been removed, but here no one seemed to know who should be told.
What was worse, not all the deaths were from disease or age; not counting the assassination attempts, there had definitely been at least two murders in the palace since her ascension, both apparently the result of fights over unattended goods. There were reports of other fights that had not ended quite so badly, and stories of rapes
