In the meantime, the surgeon had arrived. He tsked over Anna’s badly burned wrists and ankles, murmuring that she ought to have summoned him at once. A quick invocation of magic eased the worst of her injuries. After that, he mixed up a salve that she was to apply twice each day, then prescribed an infusion of herbs, which would allow her to sleep, he said.
At last Anna dismissed her attendants. Only Raab and Maté remained behind. Their presence would lead to new rumors about the Lady Iljana’s unseemly behavior. They would have to complete their mission soon, before she lost her reputation entirely and lost whatever advantages her role allowed.
The innkeeper had sent up a veritable feast of island delicacies and several bottles of fine wine—his unspoken apology for failing to protect his noble guest. Maté set to work arranging the platters and dishes. Raab made his own circuit of the room, inspecting every door and window, while Anna set spells to ensure their privacy.
Ei rûf ane gôtter. Ei rûf ane strôm. Stille. Stille.
Magic whispered over her skin as she spoke, like the breath of a ghost that had lost its way between lives. Though nothing within the room itself had changed, those sounds from beyond—footsteps from the courtyard below, the trill of insects, the small, secret conversations of night—took on a faraway quality. Whoever attempted to eavesdrop on their conference would hear a faint murmur and nothing more.
Maté poured cups of water and wine with a practiced air. Strange how he seemed equally comfortable playing the attendant as he was with knife and sword, or crouched in the mud as they followed their quarry. More than once she had wondered at his history. He spoke freely about his childhood on that farm in distant Károví, and just as freely about his service in the army, but over the past six years she had noticed gaps in those apparently artless stories. He never did talk about why he had sold his bond, for one thing, nor the early years with Lord Brun.
We both have our secrets, after all.
A single bell from the garrison tolled the hour. Midnight.
Raab finished his rounds and dropped into the nearest chair. He and Maté had scarcely acknowledged each other since her return, except for the occasional sharp-edged glance. She had the impression of a quarrel that had broken off only in her presence, and even then was barely suppressed.
“Sit,” Maté told her. “You’ve had a long day.”
“So have you. Both of you,” she added.
Raab’s mouth twitched, as if amused. Do not pretend to be my friend was the message. Anna remembered the day Lord Brun had introduced the man and announced his part in their mission. Handy with a sword and a knife, was how Brun had phrased it. Our own personal guard dog, Maté had muttered.
Yes and no, Anna thought. If Raab was a dog, he was Lord Brun’s dog, sent to watch over the man’s interests. It would not do, after all, if Anna and Maté decided to abscond with the jewel themselves.
As if they were stupid enough to risk the Emperor’s fury, never mind Lord Brun’s.
Maté offered a cup of wine to Anna. “Better a miserable day than none at all. Sit,” he repeated. “We need to discuss what to do about our new friends.”
Anna sat and accepted the cup but did not drink. “If you mean those pirates, I don’t see that they matter. We’ll have to hire more guards, of course, and make another search of the shore where Sarrész disappeared, but—”
“We need to leave Iglazi,” Maté said. “Tomorrow, if possible.”
Anna drew a sharp breath. “What? Why? All the clues to our mission lie here.”
“Because of those same damned pirates. They know too much.”
He sank into the remaining chair and picked up a wine cup, but set it aside with a dissatisfied air. Two days with little sleep and inadequate food had exacted a toll. His eyes were like hollows, the folds around his mouth seemed deeper than before, and the lamplight picked out a glittering of silver in his hair.
All the while, Raab watched them both with cold and assessing eyes. Anna finally took a sip of her wine to cover her own uneasiness.
“I’ve made a few discoveries,” Maté went on. “Our friend Koszenmarc is more than your ordinary pirate captain. He also happens to be the second son of Hêr Duke Vitus Koszenmarc of Valentain. According to my sources, Andreas Koszenmarc spent three years at the Imperial Court in Duenne, serving as his father’s representative. He vanished from Court without a word eight years ago—there was a scandal when his father disowned him. No one is certain what happened, though everyone likes to speculate. However, Koszenmarc likely did meet Hêr Barône Klos at Court. It follows he will soon guess you are not Vrou Iljana.”
His words echoed her own fears, ever since she’d heard Koszenmarc’s voice and recognized the lilt of a noble-born accent. But she could not give up, not yet.
“Then we remove to another island,” she said. “We take up new identities and renew the search from afar. But if we do, we must act deliberately. If we simply disappear, that will only start new rumors and—”
“And you think no one will notice? Lady Iljana and her attendants depart from Vyros. Another young woman makes her appearance a few days later, on another island, perhaps with the same attendants, or perhaps with an entirely new set. Both lead to questions.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but he slammed a fist onto the table. “Anna, don’t be stupid. Sarrész has vanished. We can’t even say if he survived the ambush. I say we let Lord Brun hire a Court mage to track the man down. Better, hand the matter over to the local authorities. Commander Maszny knows these islands far better, and he’s the Emperor’s man—”
Raab set his wine cup onto the table, hard. “No. We stay here.”
Maté drew his lips back in a snarl. “And I say we go.”
They were like two rough and battered dogs, facing off against each other.
“We must go,” Maté repeated. “We’ve uncovered every single clue we could, in spite of our lord insisting on this idiotic game of secrecy. Let him handle the problem from now on.”
Raab’s mouth flickered into a smile. “He already handles it. Through me. You know that.”
Maté scowled at the man. Before he could say anything unforgiveable, Anna laid a hand on his shoulder. “Maté, he’s right. Lord Brun gave him the final word. Besides…I agree. We cannot give up now.”
His gaze swung up to hers. “You aren’t afraid of Koszenmarc? You seemed terrified before.”
“I was,” she admitted. “But I doubt the man will make a second attempt. We’ll take extra care the next time we visit that cove. And I will lodge a formal complaint. It would look strange if we did nothing.”
She glanced at Raab, who nodded. Permission given.
Maté, however, studied her with an oddly intent expression. “If you insist.”
“I do.”
“Ah,” he breathed. “Well, then, that is a different matter. Very well. Raab and I shall hire more guards in the morning.”
“And I’ll have another word with our innkeeper,” Raab said. “He ought to hire guards of his own, after this last episode.”
He