The Ambassador's Mission

them.

“Donia,” Cery said, managing a half-smile. “How’s business?”

“The usual,” she said, the corner of her mouth lifting into a wry smile. “Good to see you again. I’ve got the rooms set the way you like. She’s waiting up there.”

“Thanks.”

He and Gol climbed the stairs. Worry made him edgy, and he couldn’t help glancing through doorways and around corners for signs of ambush. Though Cery did not think Donia would betray him willingly, he never discounted the chance that someone would remember they had been friends in their youth, and set a trap for him in her bolhouse. Or spy on him. He always had Donia empty the top-floor rooms either side of and below the one he held meetings in, so nobody could eavesdrop.

Reaching the door of the same room he had met Anyi in last time, he was amused to see her sitting in the exact position he had been in during the previous meeting. Keeping his expression neutral, he followed Gol inside. The big man looked around the room, then closed the door. Cery looked closely at his daughter.

There were dark circles under her eyes and she appeared to be even thinner, but her gaze was sharp and unflinching.

“Anyi,” he said. “I’m glad to see you’ve kept out of trouble.”

The corner of her mouth twitched. “It’s good to see you’re still alive, too. Any luck catching my brothers’ murderer?”

He felt a familiar wrench of grief. “Yes and no.”

“Which means what?”

Cery suppressed a sigh. Her mother had disliked evasive answers, too.

“I’ve been tracking someone, but I won’t be sure if it is the right someone until I catch them.”

She pursed her lips, then nodded. “Why have you let brazier houses open in Northside?”

He blinked in surprise. “I haven’t.”

“You don’t know about them?” Her eyebrows rose and her attention shifted to Gol. “He doesn’t know?”

“No.” Cery glanced at Gol. “But we do now.”

“You’ll shut them down?”

“Of course.”

She frowned. “But you won’t do it yourself, will you? Not in person.”

He shrugged. “Probably not. Why do you ask?”

“One opened next to where I was staying. It’s why I’m not staying there now. Nasty, nasty people. I heard them talking to the previous owner. The walls are pretty thin so it wasn’t hard to listen in.” Her eyes narrowed. “They told the man they were going to take his house and shop. They said if he told anyone they’d do things to him and his family. There was a woman with a strange accent – nothing I’ve ever heard before. She said something and then the bootmaker yelled. When his wife got home after they’d gone, I heard him telling her what had happened. He said they’d hurt him with magic.” Anyi looked at Cery intently. “Do you think that’s possible, or did they trick him?”

Cery stared back at her. If this is the rogue... if it is the Thief Hunter... is she worming her way closer to Skellin by working for his rot-sellers? “A strange accent,” he repeated.

“Yes.”

“Did you get a look at her?”

“No. But there have been rumours of rogue magicians in the city for years. It kind of makes sense if they’re foreigners. Magicians from countries outside the Allied Lands aren’t going to be part of the Guild.” She paused, then shrugged. “Of course, she could’ve been faking it.”

Cery nodded approvingly. “You were right to leave. Better to assume she has magic and get out of there. Have you got another hiding place?”

She scowled. “No. I had a few, but they’ve all been spoiled in one way or another.” She looked up at him. “You’re doing okay, from the look of it.”

“I’m not sure how much of that is because of what I’ve done, or sheer luck,” he admitted.

“Still, with the money and contacts you have, you must have a better chance than me.”

Cery shrugged. “They do help.”

“They do, do they? Well, how about I come and stay with you, then? Because hiding doesn’t earn me any money, and I’ve used up all mine – as well as my contacts.”

As Cery opened his mouth to protest, she leapt to her feet.

“Don’t go telling me I’d be safer away from you. Nobody but you and Gol know we’re related and I have no intention of making it public gossip. I’m not going to be with you all the time because I’m your daughter.” She straightened and put her hands on her hips. “I’m going to be there as your bodyguard.”

Gol made a choking noise.

“Anyi—” Cery began.

“Face it, you need one. Gol’s getting old and slow. You need someone young. Someone you can trust as much as him.”

Gol’s choking became a spluttering.

“Youth and trustworthiness aren’t all that a bodyguard’s gotta be,” Cery pointed out.

She smiled and crossed her arms. “You don’t think I can fight? I can fight. I’ve even had some training. I’ll prove it.”

Cery bit back the sceptical remark he would normally have made. She is my daughter. We haven’t exchanged this many words in years. I’ll gain nothing by dismissing her. And... perhaps she does have a little of her father’s talent.

“Well, then,” he said. “How about you do that? Show me how old and slow Gol is.”

He nearly laughed aloud at the expression on his bodyguard’s face. Gol’s look of hurt and dismay changed to wariness as Anyi turned to face him and dropped into a crouch. There was a glint of metal in one hand. Cery hadn’t seen her reach for the knife. He noted the way she held it and nodded in approval.

This could be interesting.

“Don’t actually kill him,” he told her.

Gol had recovered from his surprise now, and was drawing closer to Anyi with the careful, well-balanced steps that Cery knew so well. He slowly drew out a knife. The big man might not be fast on his feet, but he was as solid as a wall and knew how to use an adversary’s momentum and weight against him. Or her.

Anyi was edging closer as well, but Cery was pleased to see she wasn’t rushing in. She was circling Gol though, and that wasn’t good. A bodyguard ought to keep him- or herself between an attacker and the person they were supposed to be protecting. I’ll have to teach her that.

Cery caught himself and frowned. Will I? Should I even keep her near me, let alone put her in a position where she is more likely to be attacked? I should give her money and send her away.

Somehow he knew she would not be content with that. Whether he sent her away or let her stay with him, she would want to be doing something. And she has no place to hide. How can I send her away?

But she was tenacious. If he sent her back out into the city – especially if he gave her some money – she would find new places to conceal herself. Or she will decide she can’t stand being cooped up any more and throw all caution to the wind.

A flurry of movement drew his attention back to the fight. Anyi had attacked Gol, he noted. Again, not the best move for a bodyguard. Gol had neatly dodged her knife, caught her arm and used her lunge to propel and twist her to the floor behind him. She gave a yelp of protest and pain as he held her arm behind her back, stopping her from rising.

Cery walked forward and prised the knife out of her hand, then he stepped back.

“Let her up.”

Gol released her and backed away. He met Cery’s gaze and nodded once. “She’s fast, but she has some bad habits. We’ll have to retrain her.”

Cery frowned at the man. He’s already decided I’m going to keep her!

Rising to her feet, Anyi narrowed her eyes at Gol, but said nothing. She glanced at Cery, then looked at the