Downshadow

'I don't see,' Bors said, munching an apple, 'why you bother with lasses of the night, when by all accounts you could tumble a nymph like Rayse for free.'

Kalen ignored rhat. 'How are Araezra and Talanna?' he asked quietly.

'You mean yestereve? Bah.' Bors sparked a flinr and lit his tamped pipe. 'Talanna fell-again, though at least this time she had the damn ring. Laid up for healing at Torm's temple a few days, but she'll be fine-that girl's tougher n bone dragons.' He took a deep pull of pipe smoke. 'I'm sure the damned Minstrel'will run a tale in the morn that makes us all look hrasting fools, but no mind.'

Kalen nodded. Cellica would tell him about the broadsheets. He never read them himself-he already knew how bleak the world really was. 'What of Araezra?' he asked quietly.

'Rayse…' He looked down at his hands. 'She took yestereve pretty hard, as she always does. Good lass, that one, but hard on herself. Really hard. Thinks she has to be.'

Kalen sighed.

'Funny you ask about her, when we're on our way to a festhall.' Bors clapped him on the shoulder. 'Mayhap after we're done there, you'll want to cheer Rayse up, eh?'

Kalen ignored Bors's jape.

They passed under the arms of the Siren-cunningly carved as a blushing, sea-skinned and foam-haired maiden whose gauzy skirts would occasionally billow in the right breeze off the bay. The entry room was cunningly sculpted and painted in a forest scene on one side, a beach on the other. Figures in various states of nakedness seemed to dance off the walls-nymphs, dryads, satyrs, and the like, also knights and maidens reclining and embracing under the boughs of trees.

The images were so lifelike that a small person could blend in by standing still, as was a favorite pastime of Sanchel, the Siren's dwarf madam. Bors and Kalen knew her game, but she startled the Hells out of two young sellswords when she appeared-in thigh boots and a cloak of leaves-from among the trees.

'Sune smile on you.' Then, as they almost pissed themselves: 'Boy, girl, or common?'

'Cuh-common,' said one of them. The other stared at her mostly exposed chest, an impressive edifice considering her stature.

'Love and beauty follow you,' said Sanchel. 'If you would make your offering?'

The older of the sellswords elbowed the younger, and he drew a purse out of his belt and handed it toward Sanchel. The dwarf shook her head and pointed instead toward a statue of the goddess that stood within a fountain below the stairs. At her gesture, the boy poured the coins into the water, which instantly turned brighr gold.

'The goddess is pleased. You are welcome to her hall.' Then Sanchel made a bird call and two half-clad celebrants appeared- one lad and one lass. Sanchel pointed each to one of the adventurers. A pause followed, in which the festgirl and fesrboy appraised the patrons critically, then they nodded and took the young men by the arms.

Sanchel prided herself on knowing the nighttime preferences of her patrons at a glance, and she was right again. The youths looked very pleased at their escorts, and allowed themselves to be led toward the common hall, which would be full of dancing, wine, and song.

Sanchel turned to Kalen and Bors with the smile she reserved for favored regulars. 'Good eve, gentles-I see the Watch is trearing you well?'

'Hasn't killed us yet.' Bors eyed the murals speculatively. 'I wonder…'

Kalen rolled his eyes. This was one of Bors's favorite games, playing this role.

Sanchel feigned wariness, but her eyes laughed. She knew the game as well and-unlike Kalen-liked it. 'Something displeases, honored Commander?'

'I wonder if your practices fall within the scope of the law,' Bors said. 'Are all your celebrants here of their own will, and given adequate compensation for their arts?'

Sanchel rose to the challenge. 'What are you suggesting, sir? All in this place serve Sune-and all want for naught. Or'-she smiled- 'did you need to interview one yourself?'

'Mmm, mayhap,' said Bors with a grin. He drew out his purse and poured a few coins into the pool. The water glowed. 'Clever magic-spares you checking the gold yourself, eh?'

'Just so,' said Sanchel. 'And yet you pause, my lord. You are uncertain?'

Bors's grin grew wider. 'Better make it two,' he said, adding twice as many coins to the offering. 'Bren and Crin, I think.'

Sanchel gave a sweet smile and whistled twice, great trilling bird songs. Kalen wondered if she could speak with birds, if given the opportunity. Two women appeared our of a hidden door in Sune's forest-two dusky-skinned lasses with midnight hair and big, deep black eyes.

Bren and Crin looked identical, though they shared no blood. One, or perhaps both, was a shapeshifter who matched the other. Requests for 'the sisters' were common enough-if costly. They smiled at Bors with their full, tempting lips.

'Does this one please you?' Sanchel asked them.

The women looked at Bors Jarthay critically, weighing him with their eyes. Their choosing was the key, Kalen thought. If they did not like the man, no offering was enough, and it would be blasphemy for Bors to coerce or even so much as scowl if they chose 'nay.'

Oddly, Kalen found himself thinking of Cellica, the only sister he had ever known, and chuckled inwardly at the thought of her in such a situation. She'd probably box Bors Jarthay around the ears, or-failing that, owing to her size-offer him a punch in a more sensitive spot.

Bren and Crin did nothing of the sort. They smiled to one another, then bowed to Bors. 'This one,' they said together, 'half a fool and half a hero-this one always amuses us.' Sanchel nodded.

'Perfect,' said Bors with a low bow. Then he smiled boldly and quoted, 'Beauty begs joy. The silvered glass smiles, its delight unrehearsed.'

The courtesans looked at one another dubiously. Kalen looked at Sanchel, who giggled. Apparently, she understood the private jest.

'Is something wrong, my ladies?' asked the commander, his smile faltering.

'The poesy was not so bad,' Crin said ro Bren. 'Was ir Thann, you think?'

'Doubtless,' said Bren. 'And spoken Well, roo.'

'But my ladies unmake me,' said Bors with a small bow. 'They have heard this before.'

'Of course,' said Crin. 'It is in Couplets for Courtiers, is it not? How does it go, Sister?'

Bren smiled. 'Ler me see. 'Your lips curve in swift, sweet echo, but this I swear: the mirror smiled first'… aye, Commander?'

'Aye, just so.'

'Myself, I'd have preferred aught of Thann s 'Gray-Mist Maiden,'' Crin murmured to herself. ' 'Ler years steal beauty, grace, and youth,' or the like.'

'Ladies, I bow to your superior learning,' Bors said, bowing low.

'But which is the lady and which the mirror?' pressed Bren-or perhaps Crin. Kalen wasn't certain any more. He wondered if he had been wrong all along.

'I should be most pleased to find out.' And with that, Bors emptied the rest of his purse into the water, which glowed brightly indeed. 'Might we find a place of privacy, ladies, wherein I mightah? Ladies?'

Bren was looking at the glowing pool. She clicked her tongue and smiled at Crin. 'He would impress us with gold where his poetry fails, Sister.'

'How childish,' agreed Crin. 'Hmpf!'

The women stuck out their tongues simultaneously at Bors. They brushed past him toward the commons, seemingly disinterested.

Bors's face fell. 'Wait a moment!' the commander cried, and he hurried after them.

Kalen shook his head. The commander was just another man with more coin than sense.

In truth, he did not begrudge Bors Jarrhay. Kalen was a man, too, and had the desires of any man. Only the ability… Kalen sighed inwardly.

'Sir Dren,' Sanchel said. 'Have your desires shifted, or is it Leleera again? She has asked for you, should you come around-as you well know.'

Kalen turned to her. 'Leleera.'

'If you wish to marry her,' Sanchel said, 'that can be…'