Honor Among Thieves

Chapter Seven: Shoddy Workmanship

For nearly four years now, Avidan had harbored nothought of leaving the warren of rooms and tunnels he knew as theFox Den. He had no aversion to the larger world; the thought ofventuring out into it had simply never occurred to him.

But something very similar to curiosity began to stiras he followed Fox and Delgar through an intricate maze of tunnelsand secret doors.

The hidden web Delgar had created was nothing shortof marvelous. In addition to clearing ancient dwarf-built tunnels,the dwarf had made use of human constructions, such as the culvertsbelow the streets for rain run-off and the cellars of houses builtclosely together. He’d dug small tunnels connecting these cellars,and fashioned doors that seemed to disappear into the stonewalls.

For the first time Avidan realized how Fox was ableto procure any materials he requested. Now that he thought aboutit, the herbs and minerals and oils he was putting into the elf’srose daggers would require a small fortune.

Or access to the workrooms of Sevrin’salchemists.

This, too, was a fascinating thought. He’d never beenparticularly impressed by the northern alchemists. His own work wasfar more advanced. But the most recent assortment of materials Foxbrought him showed a certain amount of sophistication.

“I suppose much progress can be made in one hundredyears,” he murmured.

Delgar glanced back over his shoulder. “I haven’tbeen at it quite that long, but thanks.”

Avidan saw no reason to explain that he spoke ofalchemy, not excavation. He followed Fox and the dwarf up a flightof rough-hewn stone stairs and waited while Fox tinkered with awood-and-wire mechanism. After a few moments, the young thief swunga flagstone portal to one side.

The two friends crawled through the opening. Foxreached down to help Avidan up.

He stood and dusted himself off. The flagstone provedto be part of the stone paving separating a large hearth from theroom’s wooden floor. Fortunately for them, the warm summer nightmade a fire unnecessary.

Avidan surveyed the private supper room Vishni hadrented in what he’d been told was one of Sevrin’s better taverns.The walls were paneled with smoke-darkened wood. A garish tapestrydepicting a dragon hunt covered one wall, adding color andsubtracting from Avidan’s estimation of the owner’s taste. Bluelinen draperies softened the open windows. The room was hardly whathe had been accustomed to in his youth, but the furnishings wereadequate and the food plentiful.

The small table held a large bottle of wine and aplatter of bread, cheese and fruit. Fragrant steam rose from abasket of savory hand pies. Smoked fish had been cut into neatslices and arranged on a plate. Three chairs and place settingsstood ready.

“There’s no need for you to talk much,” Fox said,repeating words Avidan had heard and ignored several times now.“Let the other alchemist do the talking. Learn as much as you canabout him.”

“You need have no concerns about the conversation. Nodoubt we will find much to discuss.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” muttered the dwarf.

“No going off on tangents,” Fox said. “And for thelove of a thousand tiny gods, don’t offer to treat him for thepox.”

Avidan’s brow furrowed in puzzlement. “Why would I dothat?”

The dwarf and the thief exchanged a quick, worriedglance. Fox cleared his throat. “We’ll hold onto the alchemistuntil after the dagger is retrieved, so you don’t need to worry toomuch about what you say to him. Just make sure you don’t give himreason to leave the room or raise an alarm. Vishni will give you asignal if you’re heading into dangerous waters.”

“I believe the plan is for her to kick me in theshins.”

Fox shrugged. “It’s best to keep these thingssimple.”

Avidan accepted this with a nod and took his place atthe table. “I am ready.”

The dwarf glanced out the window. Twilight fadedtoward dark. A lamplighter sang the hour as he went about hiswork.

“Ready or not, we have to leave,” Delgar said. “We’llbe waiting in the tunnel and we can come if you need us, but onlycall as a last resort. Revealing this tunnel would lose us a bigsection of the city.”

“I am well aware of the risks attending thismeeting,” Avidan said with simple dignity. “As I’m aware how theserisks might be compounded by the participation of someone who is,as I believe the expression goes, as crazy as three squirrels ina cage.”

A wave of chagrin swept Fox’s face. “Listen,Avidan-”

He cut the young man off with an upraised hand. “Ihave long been aware of your opinion. It could hardly be otherwise,given how you found me. And in all candor I cannot dispute yourconclusion.

“But this task I can do,” he said firmly. “Go now,and leave me to it.”

The two friends exchanged another troubled glance,but they left the room without further comment.

Avidan poured a little wine and sipped. To hissurprise, the rich taste of pomegranate liqueur slid across histongue. He had not tasted this treasure of Veldoon since-

He stopped this thought before it could lead him ontodangerous pathways. He could not afford to think about those lostyears, not if he hoped to play the part of a sane man.

A woman’s laughter rang out in the hall beyond thesupper room. The door opened and Vishni swept in on the arm of thealchemist she’d hunted and charmed.

As always, Avidan could see through the illusionVishni wore to the reality beneath. The experience was a bit likelooking through a very solid rainbow. Tonight she chose to appearblond and blue-eyed and buxom-the quintessential northland woman,everything a visitor to Sevrin might hope to find in a temporarycompanion.

The man with her was somewhat less than averageheight, by the standards of Sevrin, and slightly built. He wore hisglossy black hair neatly combed and oiled. His skin had been warmedby the southern sun to a color just short of brown. His nose wasthin and aquiline, his eyes an unusual shade of light graysurrounded by a darker ring.

Looking upon him was like gazing into a mirror.

Avidan rose and spread both hands palms up in theVeldooni gesture of greeting.

The alchemist started when he saw Avidan. “I did notexpect to meet a countryman.” His gaze swept Avidan’s simple bluetunic. “And a brother of alchemy, as well!”

Avidan glanced at Vishni. “I am equallysurprised.”

“A pleasant surprise, I trust.” The Veldooni manbowed. “Shavin Insa’amid.”

“An honor, Master Insa’amid.” He returned the bow. “Ifollow the Sevrin custom of a single name. Avidan.”

The man’s dark brows rose. “A common name among myfamily, though I have not heard it elsewhere.”

“Shall we sit?” Vishni said. “I’m famished, and thoselittle pies smell wonderful.”

They took their places around the small table. Vishnikept up a spate of entertaining chatter as she poured wine andheaped food onto small plates.

“I hope you don’t mind me inviting Avidan to joinus,” she told her guest. “He has been longing for news from home,so I thought I’d surprise you both.”

“How long has it been since you left our homeland?”Shavin asked.

“I have not been in Veldoon for generations.”

Shavin laughed. “How well I understand thatsentiment! Though I left but four moons ago, it seems years havepassed. Do you plan to return home soon?”

“I hope to. But I no longer consider Veldoon tobe-”

Vishni kicked him under the table.

He took a deep breath and chose one of the questionsFox had bid him memorize. “What brings you to Sevrin, brother?”

“Oh, the fame of the adepts, of course! I have thehonor of conferring with one of Sevrin’s masters tomorrow. Do youknow the adept Muldonny?”

“I am familiar with his work and reputation, butsince we are not on the same level of accomplishment, there islittle call for us to confer.”

“You are too modest, I’m sure.”

“Not at all. Muldonny’s attempts to achieve alkahestare far from-”

Another sharp kick warned Avidan away from thatparticular precipice. Vishni sent him an innocent smile and reachedfor the wine bottle.

“Alkahest!” Shavin said with a smile. “That was mygreat-grandsire’s study. They say he was determined to solve thealkahest conundrum. Do you know it?”

“A universal solvent cannot be formulated until onediscovers a container it cannot dissolve.”

The Veldooni man slapped his knee and beamed. “That’sit precisely!”

“A dragon’s tooth.”

Shavin’s smile faltered. “Pardon?”

“The container,” Avidan said. “Dragons are notcreatures of this realm of existence. The great Palanir limits thedefinition of ‘universal’ to substances known to the mortal realm.Thus, alkahest can be contained by immortality.”

The Veldooni’s eyes brightened with the excitement ofa swordsman meeting a worthy foe. He gestured to the tapestry. “Ah,but can an immortal being be slain?”

“More importantly,” Vishni broke in, “can the peoplewho wove that tapestry be slain before they weave again?”

Shavin chuckled and Avidan found the corners of hisown lips turning up in agreement.

“If the old tales hold fact as well as truth, godscan die,” Avidan said. “Would you deem them mortal, as well?”

The Veldooni’s eyebrows rose. “Palanir again! Aclassic rhetorical argument, one I have not heard in years. So fewmen of our years bother to study the Philosophers. Alchemy hasbecome the art of mixing and measuring.”

“Like a guild of bakers.”

“Just so!” Shavin slapped his knee again. “If it werein my power to do so, I would invite you to accompany me tomorrow.Muldonny has expressed an interest in my pursuit of alkahest. Ifall well short of my great-grandsire’s knowledge on this subject,but what I know I will gladly share with him.”

Vishni poured the last of the wine into her cup andtossed it back. She reached for the bottle and turned to Avidan.“Do you think you can take it from here?”

“I believe so, yes.”

The fairy rose, the empty bottle in her hand. Sheraised it high and brought it down hard on Shavin’s head.

His eyes glazed and his jaw fell slack. The grapehe’d just popped into his mouth dropped out and rolled off thetable.

“He’s not falling,” Vishni said. “Shall I hit himagain?”

Avidan reached out and gave the man’s shoulder alittle nudge. He slumped and fell face down into the smokedfish.

The fairy pouted. “You’re not much fun.”

“Oh, I think you’ve amused yourself quite enough forone day.”

Vishni beamed. “That was fun, wasn’t it? For a minutethere, you looked like you’d seen a ghost. When Shavin and I camein.”

“Highly diverting, I’m sure.”

She waited for more. When none was forthcoming, sheshrugged and turned toward the hearth. “I’ll call Fox andDelgar.”

“Wait.”

He reached into the neck of his tunic and found thechain holding his most prized and dreaded possession: a tiny bottleshaped like a green teardrop.

Vishni caught her breath. “Is that-”

“Nepenthe,” he said. “The potion of forgetfulness.The fairies’ last and kindest gift.”

He pulled the tiny stopper and reached for Shavin’sgoblet. Vishni caught his wrist before he could empty it.

“That vial holds enough to remove a hundred yearsfrom a mortal’s memory. A single drop will empty Shavin’s mind ofeverything that occurred since he left his homeland.”

Avidan took a needle from his bag and dipped it intothe vial. The tiny drop that fell from the slender dipper would, hehoped, steal no more than a few days from his kinsman’s memory.

He pushed Shavin upright and let his head fall back.While Vishni held the alchemist so he would not fall from hischair, Avidan fed him the drugged liqueur little by little,patiently spooning oblivion down the man’s slack throat.

When the task was finished, Vishni regarded Avidanwith something akin to compassion in her dark eyes.

“There’s enough left to take the memory of faeriefrom you. You could drink and forget.”

“Would you drink? Would you choose to forget?”

He turned away without waiting for her reply andtapped his foot twice on the flagstone portal.

The stone swung aside. Delgar and Fox hauledthemselves into the room and took in the scene.

“You can take him right to his chambers,” Avidansaid. He held up the teardrop bottle. “He will not recall anythingthat transpired here.”

“Believe him,” Vishni said firmly.

“Well, that’s good enough for me,” Delgarmurmured.

Avidan recognized sarcasm in the dwarf’s voice. Itoccurred to him that he had heard Delgar use this tone before. Infact, it was exceeding familiar, perhaps even habitual. When timepermitted, he would reconsider the dwarf’s past comments in thelight of this new insight.

Fox looked skeptical. “I suppose I can sit with himuntil he wakes up. If you’re right, I can give him some story aboutsaving him from street thugs. One look at my face, and he’ll knowI’ve been fighting someone. If you’re wrong, I can hit him againand we’ll go back to the original plan.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Delgar said. He bent down andslung the man over his shoulder. “You go first. I’ll hand him downto you and then I’ll take it from there.”

“Clothes,” Fox reminded him. “Papers, jewelry.”

The dwarf grimaced and lowered the unconscious man tothe floor. He and Fox made short work of stripping him of hisVeldooni finery.

Avidan traded clothing with Shavin Insa’amid and slidhis kinsman’s rings onto his fingers. The fit could not have beenbetter if they’d been made to his measure.

Fox’s gaze slid from Avidan to the unconscious man.“The resemblance is remarkable. Good thinking, Vishni. This makesthings easier.”

“Considerably,” Avidan said. “Go about your businessnow. I will meet you in the Fox Den later tonight.”

He stood a little taller than was his custom and hespoke with an authority he had not assumed for three generations.It did not seem strange to him that Fox and the dwarf did as he bidthem.

Nor did it feel as strange as he might have expectedto be wearing the layers of embroidered silk that stillcharacterized the clothing of his homeland. In a land of ancientways and ancient arts, styles changed but little with a singlepassing century.

Vishni eyed him with approval. “You look like MasterInsa’amid now.”

The alchemist returned her gaze steadily. “I alwaysdid. As you well know.”

“Crazier than three caged squirrels,” Delgar mutteredas he pulled the stone door shut behind him.

Delgar and Fox returned to the den shortly aftermoonrise. They did not speak of the hour or the moon, but Honorknew. She could sense the rising of the moon despite the tons ofearth and stone between her and the Silver Lady.

She could do this despite whatever it was thatRhendish had done to her.

Her joy in this discovery was, however, swiftly mutedby her concern for Avidan’s absence.

Midnight came and went before the alchemist returned.Honor, who had been pacing the tunnels, pulled up short at theentrance to the mirror room. The alchemist stood before the strangeglass, his gaze lost to lands far beyond the woodland pondreflected in the mirror.

The scent of night air clung to the alchemist’s silkgarments, a delicate note amid the chorus of sandalwood and herbsperfuming them.

“You were out walking,” she said. “Did you run intoFox and Delgar? They went out looking for you a couple of hoursago.”

Avidan turned toward her. His face, backlit by thesoft sunrise glow coming from the mirror, was haggard and drawn,twisted with emotions she understood all too well.

“You do not sleep. I envy you.”

She did not require an explanation. Her oneexperience with dreams was nothing she cared to repeat.

“I’ve completed the research you requested,” shesaid. “There are many descriptions of what Muldonny’s liquidweapons can do, but very little about how they are made.”

Avidan dismissed this with a flick of his fingers.“Give it to Fox. The information may be of use to him.”

Before Honor’s astonishment had a chance to turn toindignation, he added, “The solution you requested is ready totest.”

He strode from the room without waiting for herresponse. Honor trotted to his side and fell into step.

They made their way to Avidan’s workroom withoutfurther speech. He placed a small glass beaker on his table andpushed it toward her. Beside the beaker he placed a small, sharpknife.

Honor used it to make a shallow cut on her wrist. Sheheld it over the beaker and let the blood drop into thecontainer.

After a few moments Avidan nodded. “That issufficient.”

She took the strip of cloth he handed her. While shewrapped her wrist, Avidan inserted a thin glass tube into thebeaker.

A narrow crimson thread rose toward his hand as bloodflowed up the tube.

“Capillary action,” Avidan said. “Liquid will flowupward in a narrow opening.”

She tipped her head toward the vase of wild carrotblossoms, now nearly as red as the liquid in the vial. “Just likein the meadow flowers.”

“Precisely.”

“And the solution you made will react with my bloodeven when it’s dry?”

“Wait and see.”

Honor watched as the thin line crept toward the topof the tube. A faint glow dawned in the heart of the tiny bulb.

“Enough?” Avidan asked.

The elf shook her head. “I need a more dramaticeffect.”

“A stronger solution is possible, but dangerous. Itwould become unstable when combined with blood.”

“That’s not a deterrent,” Honor said. “If you cangive me a few seconds, I’ll make it work.”

Avidan studied her as if he were beholding her forthe first time. “You are placing a great deal of confidence in theability of a madman.”

She took a few moments to choose her words. “SupposeI was offered two swords and told to pick one to take into battle.One of these swords new and gleaming and perfect, the other nickedand dulled through countless battles yet strong enough to hold anedge. Which do you think I would choose?”

“The analogy does not hold. I am no elven blade.”

“You,” she said firmly, “are beyond doubt thestrongest and sanest man I have ever met. Anyone else would haveshattered long ago.”

The alchemist’s gaze dropped to the beaker of blood.A long moment passed. When he lifted his gaze, his eyes heldclarity, determination, and an expression that Honor had only seenturned upon her sister the queen.

“For that-”

He broke off, shook his head, and began again. “Foryou, I would craft a substance that can turn the night skyto flame.”

Fox spent the night in fitful slumber, waking upagain and again from dreams that explored ways tomorrow’senterprise could go awry. Somehow he doubted a single night wassufficient to cover all possibilities.

Long before sunrise, he gave up any attempt at sleepand sought out Avidan. The alchemist was already awake and at work.A faint red glow came from a small beaker on the table.

“Working on a new source of light for thetunnels?”

Avidan looked up, a thoughtful expression on hisface. “That might be a useful application. I suppose we could makea deal with that butcher on Redcloak for supplies.”

Fox grimaced. “I don’t want to know. Ready topractice?”

They spent the next two hours going over signals,memorizing questions, running scenarios that might occur and howbest to deal with each. The trip to Stormwall Island occupiedseveral hours more, but shortly after midday Fox and Avidanpresented themselves at the gate to Muldonny’s domain.

The adept was famous for using only clockwork guardsand servants within his inner walls, but a small battalion of armedmen patrolled the outer bailey.

A grizzled old soldier took the papers Avidanproffered and gave the alchemist and his servant carefulscrutiny.

Fox was reasonably certain they would passinspection. Avidan looked the part of a visiting Veldoonialchemist. He’d even cut his hair, which greatly increased hisresemblance to Shavin Insa’amid. Fox wore clothes he’d removed froma tinsmith’s clothesline-simple garments of good but middlingquality, such as might be expected in an important man’s servant.Avidan’s unguents covered the bruises on Fox’s face and darkenedhis skin to a hue nearly approaching the alchemist’s. He’d darkenedhis red hair with a black dye that Avidan swore, and Fox dearlyhoped, was temporary.

The guard waved them through and pointed them to thevisitor’s entrance.

As they walked through the bailey, Fox kept up asteady stream of last-minute instructions.

“You’re sure you remember the signs.”

“Do not concern yourself. My memory has been trainedto retain copious amounts of information.”

“Copious. That’s good,” Fox murmured as he scannedthe courtyard. “What do you do if I scratch my ear?”

Avidan sighed. “I stop talking about the subjectcurrently under discussion.”

“What if I touch my mouth?”

“Then I am to echo what the speaker said, in a mannerlikely to encourage him to continue in that vein. In short, I am toelicit more information.”

Fox nodded. “The host gift is offered after you’vehad the wine or tea or whatever Muldonny offers. Not before.”

“And if I find the refreshments insufficientrecompense for the gifts?”

To Fox’s astonishment, the alchemist wore a wrysmile.

“Was that a joke?”

“Not a successful one, apparently.”

“Huh.” Fox studied the alchemist. “You look. .better.”

“Than what?”

“Usual.”

Avidan shrugged. “It is good from time to time toremember who you once were.”

Thanks to his resemblance to the Veldooni alchemist,Fox had a pretty good idea what that was. It shamed him a littlethat he’d never thought to inquire into Avidan’s history. He’dassumed that the alchemist was one of many students driven mad bythe study, and that he’d found his way into the tunnels fleeing theinevitable result of not conforming to the adept’s vision ofSevrin. That, in and of itself, had been reason enough for Fox toaccept Avidan into his inner circle.

But now his curiosity was aroused.

“As for protocol,” he said in a casual tone, “justfollow whatever rules the Veldooni go by. Do you rememberthese?”

“Yes.”

An unspoken “Of course!” resounded through thealchemist’s terse response.

“You looking so much like this Shavin Insa’amid is afortunate coincidence.”

“Fortunate, perhaps. A coincidence, almost certainlynot.”

They came to a stop before the second gate. Anotherhuman guard checked Avidan’s papers and his letter of invitationbefore unlocking the gate and turning them over to the clockworkguard.

To Fox’s eyes, the design of Muldonny’s guardsrecalled an earlier era. Unlike Rhendish, whose clockworkconstructs looked more and more like humans with each newinnovation, the Adept of Stormwall Island surrounded himself withmachines that resembled armored knights of centuries past.

They followed the animated knight into the fortressand down a corridor that opened into a grand hall. Muldonny bustledforward to meet them.

Vishni’s description of Muldonny as a human squirrelhit very near the mark. His gray robe draped his pot belly andequally broad posterior. It reached below his knees, making hisshort legs appear even shorter. A jittery energy surrounded thelittle man, and his large dark eyes darted here and there as ifexpecting to see a lurking cat or the shadow of a giant raptor.

The man lacked only a fluffy gray tail to completethe picture.

Fox raised one hand to his mouth and coughed todisguise a smile.

He stood back and looked appropriately servile as thetwo alchemists went through the formalities. Avidan handled himselfsurprisingly well. By the time they arrived in Muldonny’s workroom,Fox’s worry began to ebb.

The room was like most of the alchemist shops Fox hadinfiltrated, cluttered with books and bottles and metal and leatherand a dozen projects in various stages of completion. Of particularinterest to him was the shell of a clockwork knight, identical tothe one that stood outside the workshop door, lying on aworktable.

Muldonny gestured to a trio of large vats in an lcoveoff the main workroom.

“These are some of my more effective solvents. Theyare not alkahest, not by any means, but they have provenuseful.”

Avidan walked closer to the nearest vat. He inhaleddeeply, closed his eyes, and stood as if listening.

“It’s a foul stench, I’ll grant you, but the solventis quite effective,” Muldonny said. “This dissolves metal, veryuseful in combat.”

“A strange weapon for someone who works with metal,”Avidan said.

The adept reached into a pocket over one massive hipand produced a small glass orb.

“It is because I work with metal that I still keepthe solvent in quantity. Should one of my servants malfunction, itcan be stopped quickly.”

“Very prudent, I’m sure.” Avidan shrugged off hiscloak and handed it to Fox. “I see you are building yet anotherservant.”

“My standard model,” the adept said dismissively.“Useful, but nothing innovative. But come-let me show you mygarden.”

Fox followed them out of the workshop, droppingAvidan’s cloak to the floor before he closed the door behindthem.

A small table had been set up in the courtyardgardens. The refreshments were not lavish-a tall samovar of tea anda plate of small biscuits.

Fox hoped the alchemist did not remember his commentabout fair reimbursement for the host gifts. Or if he did, thathe’d recall it was only a jest.

A clockwork servant poured out tea and then fell backseveral paces. Fox took his cue from the machine and measured hisown distance.

For a while, he listened while the men talked abouttheir work. Fox had little use for alchemy, so he learned for thefirst time that it arose in Veldoon in past centuries and onlyrecently spread to the northlands. Interesting, he supposed, but itwas time to move things forward.

He caught Avidan’s eye and tapped a hand to hischest. The alchemist acknowledged him with a barely perceptiblenod.

“I have heard that Sevrin is preoccupied withcollecting curiosities. Is this an interest you share?”

Muldonny gestured for more tea. “I have been to themuseums, of course, but not for several years. You may wish tovisit them, if your time in Sevrin permits.”

Avidan glanced at Fox for a prompt. The thief touchedhis left shoulder.

“So you are not a collector, then.”

“That would depend upon your definition of the term.Alchemists collect all manner of things. We must do so for ourwork, is that not so? But amassing a display of quaint objectsmerely to say you possess them?” He shook his head. “No, I am a manof singular focus.”

Fox touched his mouth. Echo him, keep himtalking.

“And what is that focus?” Avidan asked.

The adept smiled. “I admire your devotion to yourgreat-grandsire’s art. Like you, I believe there is much to learnfrom the past. Sevrin is not wise to cut ties to the old ways.Perhaps not even the old races.”

This was not something Fox had ever expected to hearan adept say. He touched his mouth again, urging Avidan to pursuethis.

Before he could speak, a metal servant approachedwith a silver tray. A single calling card lay on the tray. Fox’seyes widened as he recognized Rhendish’s seal.

Muldonny did not look much happier than Fox aboutthis development. “This is an unexpected pleasure,” he said in aflat tone. “It would appear that one of my brother adepts has cometo call.”

Avidan rose. “Then I will leave you to confer.”

“Oh, you must meet Rhendish. It will do him good toconverse with a man more learned than himself.”

Fox flashed the symbol for Lie.Graciously.

“You do me too much honor.” The alchemist resumed hisseat. “It will be my pleasure. I had hoped to gain an audience withsome of your fellow adepts. I have brought samples of my work withalkahest, if you think he might be interested.”

Muldonny’s eyebrows rose. “I am never quite certainabout Rhendish, but I’m certainly interested.”

“The vials are in my cloak.” Avidan snapped hisfingers as a signal for Fox to produce them.

The thief stepped forward and dipped into a low bow.“A thousand pardons, my lord. I left your cloak in Muldonny’sworkroom.”

“Fetch it immediately.” Avidan looked to Muldonny.“With your permission?”

As Fox expected, Muldonny turned to the clockworkknight.

“See Master Insa’amid’s man to the workroom andreturn with him.”

Fox bowed low to each alchemist in turn, and he leftwith the adept’s globe of solvent tucked into his sleeve. It was,if he did say so himself, a pretty bit of pocket-mining.

He retrieved Avidan’s cloak from the floor of theworkroom and patted it down. The lining held several pockets.Avidan had tucked into them four small ivory vials, all of themcarved from dragon’s teeth Fox had liberated from several privatecollections.

He grimaced at the sight of the scrimshaw carvings onone of the teeth. The vial would be too easily traced. He tucked itinto his pocket.

The clockwork servant gestured to the door. “Returnnow.”

Fox jumped, startled by the hollow, metallic voice.“These things are talking now?”

“Talking now.”

“Empty night,” Fox muttered. “The adepts are gettingtoo good at their work.”

“Return now,” the construct said.

“If you’re in a hurry, feel free to go on without me.In fact, if you would take these vials to my master, I’d appreciateit.”

“Take vials.”

“That’s right,” Fox said. He held out two of thedragon tooth vials.

The clockwork servant stood motionless. Apparently ittook instructions from no one but Muldonny.

Another idea came to Fox. He wandered over to theworktable and picked up a handful of tiny gears.

“Thief take clockwork!”

“No, just exploring your ability to assesssituations.” He dropped the handful of metal onto the table. “Outof curiosity, what would you do if I did steal somethingfrom the workshop?”

The clockwork servant spun toward the alcove wherethe vats of solvent stood. On the floor just in front was a roundmetal grate. The construct bent down and lifted the cover withabout as much effort as Fox might require to pick up his boots.

“Thief disappears.”

“That’s what I thought.” Fox hefted Muldonny’s globeof solvent. “You go first.”

He hurled the little sphere at the construct. Glassshattered against its plate-armor chest.

Fetid steam surrounded the clockwork knight. When itcleared, no more than three heartbeats later, Fox could see thesolvent vats through a gaping hole in the construct’s chest.

The clockwork servant stumbled forward and fell intothe shaft.

Several moments passed before a distant clatter andthud sounded from below.

No splash.

A triumphant smile spread across Fox’s face. He mightnot be able to make the dagger switch today, but at least he’dfound a way into Muldonny’s manor.

Now, to find a way to get himself and Avidanout.

He shoved the grate back into place and looked aroundfor some sort of disguise.

His gaze fell on the half-finished servant on theworktable. The shell really did look like a suit of armor.

He went over for a closer look. The torso was emptyexcept for a few handfuls of tightly assembled machinery. Foxpulled them out and fed them to the vat of metal solvent.

Fox climbed onto the table and worked his way intothe armor suit. He swung his legs over the side of the table andfound the metal was surprisingly light. Gripping the edge of thetable, he pulled himself upright.

So far, so good.

The helmet was another concern. To his relief hecould see through the hard silver substance covering the eyesockets. He worked his hands into the articulated gloves, flexedhis fingers several times. He hopped off the table and took anexperimental step. The armor was a little too big, but it felt wellbalanced. After two circuits of the workroom, he figured he was asready as he was likely to get. He clanked down the narrow stairsleading to the courtyard.

His heart quickened at the sight of Rhendish sittingnext to Avidan. The two adepts played some sort of card game, whichAvidan had prudently chosen to observe.

Muldonny’s eyes narrowed as he took in the metal-cladFox. “And where is Master Insa’amid’s servant?”

“Thief take clockwork,” Fox said, making his voicelow and grating.

It was, in his opinion, an excellent approximation ofthe servant’s voice. The slight tick at one corner of Avidan’smouth indicated that the alchemist thought otherwise.

“My most abject apologies,” Avidan murmured. “Theservant came highly recommended. I will recompense you for any lossand shall deal most harshly with him.”

“You needn’t trouble yourself on either account,” theadept said. “I’m certain he has already been dealt with.”

“Servants,” said Rhendish, shaking his head incommiseration. “You treat them well, pay them fairly, and stillthey rob you.”

Muldonny drew a card from the deck and scowled at hishand. “So I am told.”

Fox raised a metal hand to his mouth, the signal forAvidan to press for information.

“One of your servants has been caught stealing?”

“He was caught, yes, but unfortunately long after thetheft,” Rhendish said. “He sold the item before we could recoverit.”

A muscle twitched near Muldonny’s left eye. “Nothingof great value, I trust.”

Rhendish waved one hand dismissively. “A curiosity,nothing more.”

They played several hands in silence. At lastRhendish threw down his cards.

“My luck is singularly bad today. It would appearthat your winnings exceed my purse. I’ll send my steward firstthing tomorrow to settle up.”

“There is no need,” Muldonny said. “This was afriendly game, nothing more.”

Rhendish’s sardonic smile fell just short of insult.He removed a ring and handed it to Muldonny.

“But I insist. Perhaps you will take this as payment,or at least as a surety of payment to come.”

Muldonny’s eyes widened as he took in the pale pinkcrystal and the tiny, intricate runes encircling the silver band.“This is elf-crafted! It’s far too valuable.”

“Not to me,” Rhendish said. “I have more than enoughelven trinkets in my collection of curiosities and, truth be told,I don’t particularly fancy wearing pink.”

The adept slipped the ring onto his small finger andadmired his plump hand. “In that case, I accept with pleasure.Please send word any time you feel the urge to gamble.”

“I have several other elf-crafted items that might beof interest to you,” Rhendish said. “It’s a shame about the theft,though. I suspect you would have risked a great deal to possessthat dagger.”

The adept’s studiously casual tone set off alarms inFox’s mind.

According to Honor, Muldonny possessed a stolen elvendagger. According to Rhendish, an elven dagger was recently stolenfrom him. Rhendish was clearly putting Muldonny on notice. Andelven daggers were not exactly plentiful in Sevrin. Fox did notrequire an abacus to add these pieces of information into adisturbing total.

Why hadn’t Honor mentioned that Rhendish oncepossessed the Thorn?

On second thought, he realized there was no reasonwhy she should. She knew nothing of the enmity between him and theadept.

Still, the fact remained that if Rhendish had aninterest in the dagger, their task had just become much morecomplicated.

“It seems that we are both unfortunate in our choiceof servants,” Avidan said. He lifted his cup in salute to his host.“It would appear that Muldonny has the right idea.”

Rhendish shrugged. “Clockwork servants might beimpervious to greed, but they do wear out rather quickly. You mustgo through dozens each year.”

“Mine are built for strength and durability, but yes,a few.”

Muldonny lifted one hand in a gesture Fox remembered.He plodded forward and reached for the samovar.

The metal hands were fully articulated, but withoutthe sensation of touch, Fox had no idea whether his grip wassecure. He gripped the vessel hard enough, in his estimation, tocrack the glass and dribble a bit of tea onto Avidan’s stolenfinery.

The samovar shattered, dumping the entire contents ofthe pot into Avidan’s lap. The alchemist jumped to his feet andpeeled off his sodden outer robe.

Rhendish smirked. “Well, it’s certainly obvious thatyou’ve built for strength.”

Avidan held up a hand to cut off Muldonny’sapologies. “We are none of us well served today by those in ouremploy. Perhaps you will permit me to return at another time?”

“Of course! I look forward to continuing ourdiscussion.”

The alchemist bowed to each adept in turn. “No doubtyour servant is dexterous enough to see me out.”

“That is not a risk I care to take.”

Muldonny reached for a bell. Three clockworkservants, identical to the form Fox wore, stomped into thegarden.

The adept pointed to one of the constructs. “You. SeeMaster Insa’amid to the gate. You two dispose of this andreturn to the garden.”

It took Fox a moment to realize that he was the itemslated for disposal.

He turned to run. Before he could take a single step,the two clockwork guards flanked him, closed metal hands around hisupper arms, and carried him out of the garden.

They marched him to the outer wall and tossed himover.

As the ground sped up to meet him, Fox hoped thatMuldonny’s claim of durability was more than an idle boast.

Stars sparkled in the sky over Stormwall Island whenFox awoke. He struggled for several moments to sit up before itoccurred to him to remove the metal shell.

One of the gloves had come loose during the fall. Foxshook it off and tossed it aside. It landed with a sharp clunk ofmetal on metal.

Starlight glimmered on piles of metal around him. Ittook a while for his befuddled mind to understand that he’d beentossed into a pit of defective or outdated clockwork creatures.

Fox flung the arm of another knight off his chest androlled away from the metallic corpses. He shed the armor andclimbed out of the pit as quickly as he would flee a massgrave.

That was foolishness, of course. These were machines.The pit might as well be filled with broken pottery.

An unnerving whimper came from one mangled form. Foxhad already started to turn back to help when he remembered thevoice belonged to a machine, not a comrade.

He squared his shoulders and strode off into thenight.

But he took with him the odd conviction that he wouldcarry the memory of this desertion for the rest of his days.