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  Only now did Maté take in the condition of Anna’s clothes and her injuries. “My escape does not matter. We must call a surgeon for those burns. Come. You’ve had a terrible ordeal, my lady. Let me support you to your chambers.”

  He offered an arm, which Anna gladly took. Only when they had passed from the entry hall and mounted the stairs did he quietly say, “What did happen? How did you get those burns?”

  “Magic gone astray,” she said in a low voice. “But Maté, they let you go. They told me—”

  “They knocked me over the head,” Maté said with a scowl. “Their captain was a man called Koszenmarc. He bundled us all into his ship. Dropped me and the boys on shore near Vyros. Told me to wait for instructions about your ransom.”

  Ah. Yes. The ransom for the mythical Lady Vrou Iljana.

  “What about the guards?” she asked.

  All the joy vanished from his face. “Those gods-be-damned pirates murdered two of our boys. The other four…” He drew a deep breath, and for a moment it was as though he still saw those guards as soldiers under his command. “They’ve cracked skulls and some nasty gashes, but nothing worse. The surgeon promises they should recover soon enough. I filed a complaint with the garrison commander, of course, but he seems curiously reluctant to chase after our new friends. I suspect he takes bribes. But as you said, we shall discuss the particulars later.”

  They had arrived at her suite of rooms. Maté gave orders to Lady Iljana’s personal maids for a warm bath and a meal. “And quiet,” he said with a worried glance in her direction. “She’s had a wearisome adventure.” To Anna, he said, “Vrou, let me call a surgeon to attend you.”

  Anna had no desire to argue. Her maids led her to her private bedchamber, where they soon prepared a warm, scented bath. They offered her soft sponges, perfumed soaps, and fragrant oils, while others laid out a fresh dressing gown and slippers. When she was clean once more, they helped her to dress and brushed out her hair, winding it into damp, dark coils tied with ribbons. Her meal waited for her pleasure, they told her with an obeisance. Her man Kovács had sent a slave to fetch the surgeon, who would attend her within the hour.

  For once she was grateful for her assumed identity. She could dismiss the servants and eat alone, and they would only think her eccentric. As for the surgeon, she would see him to please Maté.

  She ate slowly, relishing the flavors. Cool broth spiced and thickened with unfamiliar greens. Slices of flatbread smothered in honey. With every spoonful and mouthful, her strength trickled back.

  Home. Home and safe. Neither was exactly true, but at least she was alive, and so were Maté and Raab. She rubbed her head, gently exploring the knot beside her temple. It no longer hurt, but it was still tender. A trace of the captain’s signature remained, faint and unfocused, along with stronger traces from the healer named Thea.

  Why had he let her go?

  She was fairly certain he had. He could have sent any number of boats after her once she escaped. He might have done exactly as that cheeky boy had said—waited until dark, waited until she was exhausted and starved, then captured her once more. She sighed and poured herself a cup of hot, strong tea. As she went to replace the teapot, a square of paper tumbled from the table onto the floor. Anna paused, suddenly wary, before she bent down to pick up this mysterious paper.

  The paper was a simple square, folded over once. The outside was blank, with no address, nor any wax to seal it. Her heart beat faster as she unfolded it.

  I’m glad you found my boy a useful guide. —Andreas Koszenmarc

  CHAPTER 4

  Anna flung the paper away and scrambled to the nearest door, shouting for Raab and Maté. Her maids took up the panic, calling out in terror, until Maté arrived at a gallop, sword and dagger drawn, with Raab only a few steps behind. Her two companions searched every room and closet and finally declared them safe from marauding pirates. Another hour passed while they interrogated the innkeeper and his servants. The results were…less terrifying than expected. One of the kitchen boys had accepted a bribe to tuck the note on Lady Iljana’s tray. The innkeeper dismissed the boy without a reference and begged Lady Iljana to forgive the lapse. Anna wasn’t certain which infuriated her more—Koszenmarc’s trickery, or the innkeeper’s groveling.

  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 tossed off a second cup of that expensive wine before he departed. Maté, however, lingered over their feast, untouched except for the wine. He broke off pieces of the loaves and crumbled them into bits. He dumped spoonfuls of each dish onto the plates and stirred them into a mess. Soon their untouched feast no longer appeared quite so untouched.

  “You are a thorough man,” Anna said softly.

  He shrugged. “They tell me it’s a valuable skill. Do you have further requirements of me this evening, Lady Vrou?”

  He was unhappy. She could read that plainly from his tone and the way he avoided her gaze.

  She sighed. “No. Thank you.”

  Maté bowed and moved toward the door. Before he turned the latch, however, he stopped, his face turned away into the shadows. “Tell me,” he said softly. “Why did you agree to this mission?”

  Anna started at the unexpected question, and the implication that she had a choice. “Because…our lord and master ordered me to.”

  “And you did not wish to cross him.”

  He made it a statement, not a question.

  She nodded. “It seemed wiser not to.”

  Maté smiled faintly. “True. He can be a hasty man, our Hêr Lord Brun. So you believe we can track down this Sarrész? In spite of everything?”

  For a moment, she wanted to confess everything, but that would mean confessing that Brun had offered to cancel her bond but not Maté’s.

  “I do,” she said.

  “Then I should go. Shall I send in your attendants?”

  She shook her head. He bowed and took his leave, as lightly and silently as always. Outside, he spoke to the waiting servants, his words still muffled by the secrecy spells Anna had laid over the doors and windows.

  She turned back to the table and poured a full cup of wine, but before she had done more than taste it, she set it aside.

  I lied to my friend. My best and only friend.

  * * * *

  She slept at last, aided by the surgeon’s herbs and several glasses of that most excellent wine, but her sleep was restless and plagued by dreams so intense she might have called them dreams of past lives, except that all the images were from the day before. Maté’s strangely intent expression, mirrored by Raab’s cold one. The boy’s hesitation when he negotiated the price of her rescue. The moment when Koszenmarc cut her blindfold and she saw his face just inches from hers.

  Eventually she dropped into a deeper sleep and did not wake until late morning, long after the rains had ended and a fresh breeze sifted through the half-shuttered windows. There were no bells in Iglazi, nor anywhere in the islands outside the Emperor’s own garrisons. She missed them, the various melodies that marked the different quarters in Duenne. Once more she had the distinct sense that she had arrived in a different world, one stranger and more alien than if she had leaped through the magical plane into another existence entirely.

  Anna rubbed a hand over her eyes. Her head felt clear. Her aches had all vanished overnight. Her wrists were still tender, however, and she felt a lingering regret that had nothing to do with pirates and everything to do with her friendship with Maté.

  The moment she stirred, her maids glided into her chamber with fresh pitchers of water. That had been her first chore in Lord Brun’s household, fetching the water—a simple task that would not only accustom her to the house itself, but to her duties and her new status as a bondsmaid. That status had changed over the years, from maidservant to apprentice scribe to trusted assistant to the lord’s own personal secretary, and with each finely judged advancement, she found herself with more privilege. Tutors in magic and history. More freedom within the house. And then that final change of status…

  She pushed away those memories. She would talk to Maté again. She would tell him…not everything. But she owed him some sort of explanation.

  You see, Lord Brun wants a wife. A wife who can offer rank and influence and money. If that happens, he’ll want me gone. Sold, unless I give him good reason to set me free.

  Three of the inn’s bondsmaids entered with pots of tea and a tray piled high with those light, flaky pastries she had come to adore.

  “Where are Raab and Kovács?” Anna asked them.

  “Maester Raab is instructing the new guards in their duties, my lady,” said the senior maid. “Maester Kovács said he had errands to run.”

  Ah yes. Maté would be searching out clues a
bout those pirates, no doubt. In between all his other duties, he had befriended a number of “interesting people” throughout Iglazi, people who had provided him with the local gossip. Which reminded her, she too had errands to perform, including a visit to Hêr Commander Maszny at the garrison.

  Anna made a careless gesture, as if the matter of guards or errands were not important. “Very well. I suppose they know their business, those two. Please bring me my letters.”

  The maids obeyed at once, and soon Anna had a stack of cards and letters next to her breakfast dishes. Vrou Analiese expressed a desire to further their acquaintance. Vrou Antonia invited her to the spas for her health. Barône Sellen’s eldest son, a well-known flirt and a gambler, wished to call upon her later in the day. Luckily, none of them appeared to know Barône Klos or his daughter.

  The last one had familiar handwriting on the cover.

  Lord Brun.

  “Fetch me my writing case,” she said to the maid who awaited any orders. “And tell Innkeeper Huoron I want a chair within the hour. Send for Raab and tell him to have those guards ready.”

  As soon as the maids scattered to their errands, she opened the letter from Brun. Or rather, the letter from her supposed man of business, who corresponded regularly with the Lady Iljana.

  On the surface, the letter appeared to be a tally of her expenses and income for the previous quarter. She could decode the references as she scanned the pages. This was a reply to her second-to-last report, which relayed their intention to pursue Sarrész to Eddalyon. Raab had already examined the letter and had underlined certain phrases that spoke of bills exceeding income and the need to balance her expenses before the end of the quarter.

  Brun was not happy with their progress, she deciphered. He wanted Sarrész either captured or killed and the jewel recovered within the month. Once they had accomplished that, they were to send word and he would meet them in Hanídos. Underneath the signature, Brun had added a postscript about steering clear of local moneylenders as the fees were too high—a reminder for her to avoid mages and the authorities.