dragon.”
“It’s not about the dragon.”
Kilisha blinked, trying to imagine what else the noblewoman might want. “Did you wish to order another creation, then? Or some other spell?”
“No. I came here to ask a question. I came here three days ago to ask the same question and was turned away, and this time I am resolute-I will have an answer.”
Kilisha remembered almost bumping into Nuvielle while chasing the spriggan; it had not occurred to her that the Lady Treasurer might have been headed to Ithanalin’s door. Kelder had told her he had turned away a customer, and she had not bothered to ask who the customer might have been, but presumably that had been Nuvielle.
If it wasn’t about the dragon, though, then what could she want? Was there a problem with the taxes, perhaps?
Whatever the aristocrat wanted, she was clearly determined, and the simplest thing to do was to cooperate. “Of course, my lady,”Kilisha said. “I apologize for the inconvenience.” She hesitated, then said, “I would invite you in, but I fear the shop is disordered at the moment.”
“Is it?”
“Very much so.”
“Is your couch missing, then? The rather good one, dark wood with crimson velvet upholstery?”
Kilisha’s jaw dropped-something that until that moment she had thought merely a figure of speech. She quickly snapped it shut again, and said, “How did you know? I mean... have you seen it?”
“I believe I have, yes. That was the basis for my question.”
“Then by all means, my lady, please tell me more! The couch’s absence has been a matter of great concern to us!”
“It’s quite an unusual couch, isn’t it? I’ve never seen another quite like it, have you?”
“No, my lady.” Kilisha fought down the urge to say more, to demand an immediate explanation; Nuvielle would come to the point eventually, and there was no need to antagonize her.
“Do you know where it’s from?”
“No, my lady. My master had it when I first came here, and I never thought to ask.”
“I rather admired it when I came here before, and I did not recall ever seeing another quite like it, which seemed entirely fitting for a wizard’s parlor couch-and then a few days ago I did see another like it, under surprising circumstances, in a room I had visited a hundred times, and it seemed a very curious coincidence-so curious that I wondered whether it was merely a coincidence, or whether that same couch had somehow been transported.”
“Where is it, my lady?”
“Well, that’s what’s so strange about it-how is it you don’t know?”
Kilisha began to suspect that Nuvielle was deliberately teasing her. “It escaped, my lady,” she said. “The accident that left my master indisposed animated that couch, and it fled. We are very eager for its return, but we don’t know where it went.”
“Ah.”
She was teasing. “My lady, please,” Kilisha said. “Where is it?”
“I wonder how it got past the guards? It must be quite clever. For a couch.”
“Guards?”
“At the Fortress door,” Nuvielle said.
“It’s in the Fortress”
There had been sign after sign that some of the furniture had wanted to get into the Fortress-Kilisha couldn’t begin to imagine why-but she had thought that was impossible. The doors were locked and guarded, and surely something the size of a couch couldn’t have slipped in unnoticed!
Nuvielle nodded. “It is, in fact, in the overlord’s private apartments. He thought the household staff must have placed it there as a surprise for his birthday. He was very puzzled when they denied it, but he’s been too busy with other concerns to pursue the matter. And I was quite startled to see it there.”
Kilisha swallowed. The notion that the overlord himself was involved in Ithanalin’s little disaster was rather distressing. “Did you tell him where it came from, my lady?”
“No, because I wasn’t certain,” Nuvielle said. “I did say I’d seen one like it once, and would make some inquiries, and here I am. You say it escaped?”
“Yes, my lady. A tax collector interrupted one of my master’s spells, then left the door open, allowing the couch to escape.”
“A tax collector? One of my tax collectors?”
“Yes, my lady.”
For a moment the two women stared at one another, then Nuvielle said, “That was very careless of him.”
“Yes, my lady.”
“And you want the couch back?”
“Very much so, my lady.”
“The overlord rather likes it.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, my lady, as we really must insist upon its return.” Kilisha’s voice was unsteady as she said this-she was defying the lords of the Hegemony! “My master’s indisposition is related,” she explained. “We must have the couch to restore him to health.”
“Ah. And you say one of my tax collectors is responsible?”
“Only indirectly, my lady. A spriggan was involved, as well, and simple misfortune.”
“Still,” she mused, “it would seem that I owe it to you to make amends.”
“If you could aid us in recovering the couch..,”
“I can get you into the Fortress and to the overlord’s door,” Nuvielle said, “but beyond that I’m afraid it’s between you and Wulran.”
“Wulr-Wulran?”
“My nephew Wulran. The overlord.”
“Of-of course, my lady.” Kilisha’s voice squeaked embarrassingly as she spoke. Between her and Wulran? But “Wulran” was Wulran III, Overlord of Ethshar of the Rocks, Triumvir of the Hegemony of the Three Ethshars, Commander of the Holy Armies and Defender of the Gods. And she was just Kilisha of Eastgate, a mere apprentice.
“Would you care to accompany me back to the Fortress right now, to take care of this?”
Kilisha started to say yes, then stopped.
All her life, and never more than these past few days, she had always rushed into things, never planning ahead but just doing whatever she thought needed doing. She had gone chasing cats without stopping to think, had gone chasing furniture unprepared, and had just generally hurried off thoughtlessly. Ithanalin had spent the past five years trying to teach her to plan out her actions, to make sure everything was ready before she began a spell; she had been lectured repeatedly about the dangers of haste, especially where something as dangerous as wizardry was involved. While she had finally learned to prepare spells properly, she still often dashed headlong into everything else.
This time, though, she wouldn’t. This time she would take the time to plan and prepare, to think it through.
For one thing, Yara had ordered her to stay in the house.
For another, she wanted to have suitable magic ready, in case she needed it.
For a third, tackling something as big and smart as the couch alone seemed foolhardy. It clearly was clever-whatever portion of Ithanalin’s spirit it had gotten had plainly included the wiles necessary to get past the Fortress guards and into the overlord’s apartments, and furthermore it had chosen to do so, so its motivations were, to say the least, not obvious. Kilisha thought she might want all the help she could get.
“I must make some preparations, my lady,” she said. “The couch may not be entirely cooperative, and I want to be ready.”
“As you choose. When shall I expect you, then?”
Kilisha hesitated. Surely, the Lady Treasurer of Ethshar of the Rocks was not about to rearrange her
