Between that, shutting down the efhân dealers, and his classwork, he was close to the edge of his endurance. But he’d endure.
Tonight his patrol included the Fenmere mansion, in the heart of Dentonhill. He knew where it was now, thanks to Inspector Welling’s records. Not that knowing made a difference. The house had dozens of guards on the ground, more with crossbows on the roof, and most troubling: dalmatium pylons at regular intervals. If he tried to assault it, he’d be massively outnumbered and magically hobbled.
He couldn’t just charge in there, he’d need a plan. For now, he’d scout it and form that plan. Maybe he could call on the Rynaxes for a favor.
He watched as the front door opened, and three people came out. Clearly not from this part of town. One of them looked very official, with his suit and cravat. The other two looked like soldiers, matching uniforms and swords at their belt.
And the big guy had a shield.
Very big guy.
A giant, one might say.
He was tempted to follow them, but he had been out too late already. He was already drained from today’s earlier fight and the magic class. If he had learned anything, it was not to push his limits when it wasn’t urgent. The last thing he needed was to follow this giant warrior farther away from campus.
That didn’t mean he’d just let them go.
He shrouded himself to be nearly invisible, and leaped off the roof, landing with soft magic half a block from them. Then he pushed just a little bit of speed into himself, and darted past the big fellow, tagging him with a magic charge as he passed.
Just enough to track him later.
He watched as the big fellow looked about to see what brushed him, and they all went on their way.
That needed to be enough for tonight. Time to get home, get something to eat, and sleep. And probably study a little as well. He did have classes in the morning.
Chapter 5
“SO WHO ARE YOU AGAIN?” Jerinne asked as Olliman, the strange, officious man, led them through Inemar.
“Unofficial,” Olliman asked. “I don’t have a title or a position in the government or the nobility. But my brother is the chief of staff to the High Lord of Diplomacy.”
“And it’s in that capacity you were in the home of a drug smuggler and crime boss?”
“Yes,” Olliman said. He stopped, lighting a taper from a street lamp and using it to light his pipe. “All right, you two, since you’re both so smart, let me ask you a question. You were at the Royal Gardens this morning, right?”
“Yes,” Dayne said. “You were as well?”
“I was,” Olliman said. “But you wouldn’t have noticed me. The point is people don’t notice me, and if they do, they only see two brothers talking. I’m never seen talking to anyone else in power. But to my real point. Did you see, for example, an ambassador from the Kieran Empire?”
“Maybe,” Jerinne said. She wasn’t sure where this was going, but Olliman looked terribly agitated about it. It was also a little hard to hear him, with him speaking in a low, smoky whisper. Maybe that was his intent.
“And an ambassador from the Imach Nations? From Tsoulja? Acseria?”
“I’m not sure,” Jerinne said.
“You may not have noticed, but they were there. Do you know who was not there? An ambassador from Poasia. Because that doesn’t exist.”
“We have a treaty with Poasia,” Dayne said.
“We have a peace right now, but we don’t have relations with them. We do not have any sort of embassage with them, we only had one diplomatic mission where foreigners were allowed to step foot on Poasian soil, and that was ten years ago.”
“But there are Poasians in Maradaine,” Dayne said.
“There are, which we allow because we’re trying to demonstrate how open and tolerant a nation we are, the crossroads of the world. It drives Intelligence mad, let me tell you.”
“What does that have to do with you being at Fenmere’s?” Jerinne asked, annoyed with this odd man and his roundabout explanation.
“We do not have relations with Poasia,” he said. “We have, instead, a smuggling kingpin who specializes in Poasian goods, who has established roads of contact with influential people in the Poasian Pankchamnta.”
“That’s your diplomacy?” Dayne asked.
Jerinne couldn’t believe her ears. “Is that why he lives in that palace amid a crumbling neighborhood? So he can be your contact with Poasia?”
“I’m saying, for now, the Druth government has a vested interested in letting Willem Fenmere continue his operations. If that means some drugs get into the city, and some people choose to get addicted to them, that’s the price we pay.”
“That’s monstrous,” Jerinne said.
“It’s what’s been accepted,” Olliman said. “The two of you are both well regarded in the public eye thanks to your service, and whatever else may happen in your careers, you should bear in mind you both need that good esteem, and what might happen if you lose it.”
“Is that a threat?” Dayne asked.
“Not from me,” Olliman said. “I’m not a person who can do a thing about that. I’m just the brother of a minor official. But I do know that people who have threatened Fenmere’s position, his ability to do what we need him to do . . . those people have found trouble for themselves. I would not wish that for the two of you.”
“But what about—”
“Is your mission specifically about Fenmere? Are you trying to take him down?”
Dayne scowled. “Well, no, but—”
“Then find something else,” Olliman said. “Find a way that doesn’t involve Fenmere.” He shook his head. “I trust I can leave you on your own reconnaissance. I would like to just get home, have a nice supper with my brother, and we can talk about our day.”
“Yes,” Dayne said through gritted teeth. He looked very unhappy, but he nodded.
