Maybe he’d satisfied his curiosity, and had no intention of returning.
Rolling over, she discovered she had tossed and turned herself into a tight tangle with the bedding. As she began to unwind the sheet from around herself she heard a quiet tapping from the other room.
From the main door to her apartment.
Freeing herself suddenly became more difficult than before. When she had finally unwound the sheet, she donned her Servant robes hastily and hurried out of the bedroom.
Finally reaching the door, she hesitated. There had been no second tapping. If it was Nekaun, surely he would have read from her mind that she was coming to answer the door. Surely he wouldn’t leave just because she hadn’t responded fast enough.
If it wasn’t Nekaun, or any of the Voices, the visitor might have given up and left.
Sighing, she grabbed the handle and pulled open the door.
Nekaun smiled at her. She felt her heart flip over.
“Good evening, Reivan,” he said, stepping into the room. “It has been an eventful day, hasn’t it?”
“Yes,” she replied.
He had stepped past her and moved into the center of the main room. Looking back at her, he beckoned.
“I have a serious question for you,” he told her.
A serious question! As he sat down she tried unsuccessfully to avoid thinking of what he might wish to ask. Was it about their relationship? Was it about Imenja? She moved to the chair opposite him. He rubbed his hands together, his gaze distant.
“The gods visited me tonight,” he told her.
She felt both disappointment and a thrill of amazement. This wasn’t about their relationship. Still, the gods had spoken to him and he had chosen to tell
“They said that the Thinkers are searching for an ancient artifact called the Scroll of the Gods. Have you heard of this?”
Reivan frowned. “No. I know there is a group of Thinkers in Hannaya that study and search for objects of antiquity. It sounds like the sort of thing they’d look for.”
Nekaun nodded. “The gods are concerned that if these Thinkers found this scroll - if it even still exists - they would remove it from its place of safekeeping or even damage it. They want me to ensure that doesn’t happen.”
She grimaced. “Telling the Thinkers to stop searching for it will probably only encourage them to continue.”
“Then I can see only one course of action. I will have to place a spy among them.” He looked at her. “Is there anyone here you would recommend?”
Reivan looked away. “I don’t really know that many people here. Not well enough to suggest anyone, that is.”
“Then what sort of person would you advise me to send?”
She paused. Helping Nekaun spy on the people she had once belonged among felt a little like betrayal. Then another thought occurred to her and she frowned.
“Why do the gods need you to send a spy? Couldn’t they watch the Thinkers themselves?”
He laughed quietly. “The gods can’t be everywhere at once, Reivan, nor would they want to be. This is the sort of chore best given to a mortal.”
“Ah.” There was no getting out of this.
“Your spy will have to be intelligent,” she told him. “And show little or no Skills, because most Thinkers don’t have any and are jealous of those that do. He needs to be opinionated, too.”
“‘He?’ Why not a ‘she’?”
“Most Thinkers are male. Female Thinkers are ignored.”
“Being ignored would be good, for a spy.”
“They are also excluded from important work.”
“Ah.”
“Why didn’t you ask your Companion, Turaan?”
“I did.” He smiled. “The more advice the better. It gave me a good excuse to visit you.”
Her heart jumped and began to race. She looked up and met his eyes.
“You don’t need an excuse, Nekaun.”
His smile widened. “Old or young?”
She frowned, then realized he was talking about the spy again.
“I’m not sure. A young Thinker might gain a place among the searchers by being willing to do boring work. An old Thinker would need to offer something valuable. Useful expertise, perhaps. Something that would persuade the others to allow him to join them.”
“What nationality?”
“Probably doesn’t matter. If he is to bring useful information, there should be a good reason they haven’t found it yet. They are jealous of their knowledge and suspicious of convenient coincidences. Some see plots everywhere.”
“What if this spy was from the north? Would that make them even more suspicious?”
“No. Most Thinkers don’t hold the sort of grudges ordinary people hold against other races. Knowledge is everywhere, regardless of landscape or race. Instead, they look down on those less intelligent. They’re fond of saying, ‘Wisdom and knowledge is everywhere, but so is stupidity.’ ”
Nekaun chuckled. “Everyone needs someone to despise,” he quoted.
He stood up. She slowly followed suit. Moving closer, he reached toward her. As his hand slid about her waist and he drew her against him she felt her pulse racing... and a whole lot of sensations his previous visit had introduced her to.
“Does my plan to spy on the group you used to belong to bother you?”
She shook her head. “No.”
He smiled, then kissed her, and all thoughts of the Thinkers slipped from her mind.
Returning from the priests’ bower, Auraya noticed Speaker Sirri sitting among some children, laughing. The Siyee woman looked up at her and beckoned.
Walking over, Auraya dodged as several of the children suddenly dashed away, shrieking. Tiny missiles were streaking back and forth. At Sirri’s feet was a large basket full of berries. The Siyee leader’s mouth was stained dark red from the juice - and so were the faces of the children.
Sirri looked down at Auraya’s clothes and put a hand over her mouth. Following her gaze, Auraya realized that her white circ and tunic were splattered with red spots. Sirri stood up abruptly and called out to the children.
“That’s enough!” she said firmly. The children skittered to a halt and then gathered into a group, their eyes on the ground. “Don’t waste them,” Sirri urged, her voice gentle again. “Take a handful each and be on your way.”
The children obeyed, breaking into a run as soon as they were twenty paces from Sirri. The Siyee leader looked at Auraya and sighed.
