The Magehound

"Matteo will fight for me in time," she agreed. "However, at present I have another use for him. His path will cross with the girl's, most likely quite soon. We can use that. We can encourage that. When the time is right, we can take them both unawares."

Mbatu snorted. "The jordaini have little use for women. Let a few moons pass, and he will not care whether Keturah’s daughter lives or dies."

"I can change that."

The wemic misunderstood the sudden gleam in Kiva's eyes. "Is that wise? Dalliance with a student jordain will be frowned upon, even for someone in your high place. Perhaps especially so. Magehounds and jordaini do not mix. Personal involvement might taint the clarity and purity of your judgment and ill serve the cause of Azuth," he quoted.

They shared a chuckle at this notion. Her involvement was deeply personal, and her judgments had little to do with the workings of Azuth.

Kiva sobered first and told the wemic her plan. "Once Matteo has been taken, you can handle the horse? You will see that it is returned to the jordaini college?"

"I will do it," Mbatu grumbled. "Dark-hearted bastard that he is."

"Good. The moon wanes, and the new moon is three days away. The purification ritual will be performed that night. We must keep Matteo away until after this is done so he will not know the difference."

"Do you truly think he will not notice whether the rite is performed or not? Humans are not such eunuchs as that."

"The jordaini do not know what awaits them. What Matteo does not know, he cannot dread. Students are taken to the ritual alone and hooded. The wizard who performs the rite does not know who comes under his knife. After the deed is done, the jordaini are sworn to secrecy and taken to recover in isolation. It will be a small thing to find a commoner to send in Matteo's place, especially if the man is seen riding into the complex on Matteo's horse."

"The masters of House Jordain are not so easily fooled. They will never permit this!" the wemic protested.

A small smile touched the magehound's lips. "You would be surprised what the jordaini will permit. Truth, as it happens, is a remarkably mutable thing. Go now and tend your part."

They left the tower room together, Mbatu to seek in the countryside beyond the city walls a young man who would stand for Matteo in the rite of purification, one who bore a passing resemblance to the jordain. Kiva's task was simpler to report what she suspected to the captain of the local militia. Tzigone never carried a sword, or for that matter much of anything else. The canny wench knew that enspelled objects could be traced, and she changed possessions frequently. But Kiva was willing to bet that the young thief would not cast away so fine a sword. It was undoubtedly still in Matteo's possession.

Kiva quickly found a detachment of local militia. The captain took the magehound's report and set out for the northwest gate after Matteo.

Well satisfied, Kiva rode to a small holding she kept outside the city and settled down to await Mbatu, confident that the wemic would arrive shortly with Matteo's stallion and, more importantly, his substitute.

Chapter Seven

A sense of unease followed Tzigone like a shadow as she made her way to the Behir's Nest. As the sun dipped toward the west, the streets began to come alive. She worked her way through the crowd, paying less attention to her surroundings than usual.

Such weakness was often fatal and always dangerous. Like fear, inattention seemed to draw predators as blood in the water summoned sharks. From the corner of her eye, Tzigone noted that a street urchin had fallen into step with her, just slightly behind her and out of the normal range of vision.

For a moment Tzigone's throat tightened. The furtive, hollow-eyed child was a reminder of her early years and a mirror of what she had been forced to become. But that didn't stop her from seizing the thin, seeking hand that reached for her bag.

Tzigone spun the boy around, flinging him against the back wall of a milliner's shop. She caught him by surprise, and tossing him about was easy to do. But not until she had him pinned against the wall did she realize that the boy was fully her height and probably nearly as strong. That realization didn't change her intention in the slightest.

She turned his grimy hand palm up and slapped into it a coin, one of the skie that the starsnake's skin had brought her.

"You need a few lessons," she hissed. "Gwillon over on Low Street is looking for an apprentice. Give him this and mention my name…."

She had to think for a moment before the name of the child thief she'd once been came back to her. "Tell him that Sindra says you have promise."