*
They joined the trade delegation in the dining hall, picked a light meal from the available spread, and excused themselves early from the laughing and drinking.
Back in their bedroom, Eleanor strapped throwing knives into her wrist sheathes and hung a curved dagger at her hip, glad to be able to arm herself properly for the first time since they’d left the Association. An assassin’s weapons didn’t quite fit the trader’s image but sneaking into neighbouring embassies didn’t fit with that cover, either, and if they were caught then they’d need every advantage they could carry to defend themselves against Taraska’s finest.
She tucked a small blowpipe behind her ear. A cunning device of Ivan’s design, this one would take two darts with different drugs, and allowed a simple movement of the tongue to control the air flow and determine which one was released. The darts she carried today were doped with Daniel’s choice of poisons: one fast-acting sedative, and another that was slightly less swift but infinitely more lethal.
A heavy belt of throwing stars provided the finishing touch to her outfit. She laced her boots, checked her stilettos were easily accessible, and studied her reflection for a moment in the mirror. She no longer looked anything like a trade envoy.
“Ready?” she asked Daniel, looping a coil of rope over her shoulder. The rough hessian fibres scratched her skin through the thin fabric of her tunic.
“I am.”
The stairs leading up to the third floor were at the far end of the corridor and they walked silently, not wanting to disturb their colleagues.
When they reached the balcony Eleanor secured the rope around the balustrade, tied a slip knot in the other end, and threw it so that it looped around a decorative stone curlicue on the Tarasanka building. She hung from the rope, holding on with hands and bare feet, and pulled herself along until she reached the far wall. She slid the window open and slipped inside, glancing around to check the coast was clear before beckoning Daniel to join her.
They left the rope in place and went to explore the embassy. The corridors were dark and deserted, with heavy doors facing off both sides. A floorboard creaked and they both turned to one another, glaring silent accusations though neither of them would risk uttering a word to argue about who had caused the sound.
They peered through a couple of doorways and saw only bedrooms; as in the Charanthe embassy, there were beautiful guest rooms on this floor. Concerned about waking anyone who was sleeping there, they hurried on.
As they made their way down to the next level in search of offices, Eleanor heard another footstep.
Daniel turned on her, and in the relative isolation of the stairwell he dared to voice his frustration: “Hush! You are being careless.”
“That wasn’t me,” she said. It hadn’t even fallen in time with her own steps. Daniel didn’t look like he believed her, but he said nothing more.
On the next floor they found a corridor that was clearly more administrative, with small engraved plates by each door. From the little she remembered of the Tarasanka script Eleanor tried to pronounce the words in her head, guessing that each one spelt out the name of whichever minor official worked from the room. None of which helped them to work out what they were looking for. She pulled out a piece of paper and began to sketch a map of the building, copying down the letters beside each room on her plan.
Daniel, meanwhile, had opened the first door and was shuffling through piles of papers that he didn’t understand. He emerged with a map of Faliska in his hands, annotated in the same foreign script.
“This is only a scouting trip,” Eleanor whispered. “We can’t start stealing documents or they’ll know there’s something going on.”
“This looks important.”
“You can’t read it. How can you say if it’s important?”
“Look.” He pointed to the scribbled notes in the border lands. “This is the area we are to investigate.”
She nodded. “Okay. But you still can’t take it.”
“What if we cannot find it next time?”
“Make a copy, then. We can’t take it with us.”
Daniel hesitated, shrugged, and sat down at the desk in the office to work, struggling to make out all the detail by the little moonlight which came in at the window. When Eleanor returned from transcribing all the plates along the corridor, he was still squinting at a corner of the paper. Eleanor looked over his shoulder.
“I’m sure that’ll do,” she said. “Come on, we’ve got another two floors to look around.”
“Go. I will catch you shortly.”
“Best not to split up.” She leaned across for another pen and dipped it into the ink well. “I’ll help.”
Once they were sure they’d copied all the notes from the interesting areas in the border lands, they scouted quickly through the remaining rooms on the corridor before descending to the floor below. They were walking along another almost-identical corridor when they heard another creaking floorboard – and with a sudden start, Eleanor realised why they were hearing sounds that neither of them would admit to. She grabbed Daniel’s arm and pushed him into the recess of the nearest doorway, tucking herself in after him. In the time it took her to pull the mirror from her pocket to look back along the hallway their pursuer must have ducked out of sight himself; she saw nothing but a slight movement in the shadows. Still, it was enough to convince her that her assessment was right.
She turned to Daniel and mouthed, “We’re being followed.”
“You are sure?”
She nodded, though she was equally surprised by this turn of events. It was unlike the Tarasanka to be so subtle. She would’ve expected any guard to raise the alarm and bring a crowd of men running to catch them – or kill them – if they’d been spotted.
“What do you think?” he asked. “Should we fight?”
“If we can get out without a fuss, we should just leave. We’ll come back tomorrow or the next night.”
He nodded and they moved out into the corridor again, Eleanor walking backwards to keep an eye out for their pursuer. If he looked out and saw her watching, maybe he’d keep himself out of sight and give them time to escape the building.
They got back to the third floor without seeing any further signs that they’d been followed, and scrambled back across to the balcony of the Charanthe embassy. As Eleanor tugged at the end of the rope to release her knot she saw a shadow in the far window, and flattened herself to the floor. She coiled the rope slowly and waited to see if the shadows would move again, but there was nothing more to see, and she shuffled backwards on her belly until she was well inside the embassy.
“What took you so long?” Daniel asked as she straightened and looped the rope over her shoulder.
“He was at the window,” she said. “They know we came this way.”
“They will increase the guard, then. Just as well to have copied the map.”
They made their way back to their room in silence; their own corridors were safer, but they still didn’t want to rouse unnecessary suspicions. Eleanor’s heart was still pounding as she closed the bedroom door behind them.
“That was close!” She leaned against the wall and let out a happy sigh. “I do love this feeling, don’t you?”
Daniel was quiet but she was sure he was experiencing exactly the same thrill. It was, after all, almost the only reason for taking up such a dangerous job. She went to the sideboard and took out a couple of glasses.
“Let’s have a quick nightcap,” she said, reaching for the bottle of Burning Death. It was horrible, but it was the only drink they’d been supplied with, so it would have to do. She set the bottle along with two glasses on the nightstand.
“We will need to be awake for more meetings tomorrow,” Daniel said.
“Who cares? I can’t sleep yet.”
“But you should try.”
She grabbed his hand and held it to her chest. “Can you feel how my heart’s thumping? It’s going to take me a while to
come down.”
“Okay.”
“So will you sit and have a drink with me?” She sat on the edge of the bed and poured Burning Death into both glasses. He picked one up and sipped it; without Gisele instructing them, there was no need to drink it in the local manner.
“This is not very nice,” he said. “I wonder why they drink it.”
“Maybe we should think about importing some Charanthe wines.”
“You are obsessed with your imports. Honestly, Eleanor, anyone would think it mattered.”
“In any case, this mightn’t be your favourite drink, but it’s what we’ve got.”
She gulped hers down quickly and rang the bell for hot water. Unlike the last time the door didn’t open instantly, and Eleanor wondered whether it was too late an hour to try and get a wash. A few moments later, though, the young servant let himself in and filled the basin. She stripped, leaving clothes and weapons in a heap on the floor, and started to sponge herself clean. She posed a little for Daniel but he wasn’t paying attention, so she rang for more hot water and enjoyed the youth’s blushing attempt to avert his eyes from her blatant nudity.
She towelled herself off and went to sit at Daniel’s side. As she poured herself a second drink and leaned across to top up his glass, she allowed her towel to slide down to her waist.
Daniel sipped his drink and Eleanor shuffled a little closer, pressing herself against his side and resting her hand on his thigh.
“We should not do this,” he said, moving away. “It is a bad idea.”
“You still haven’t told me why.”
“It is not a good thing for people in our position to fall in love. Love clouds the judgement. It creates only problems when there are decisions to be made.”
“We don’t have to fall into that.” She stroked his arm as she spoke. “I’m not talking about spending our lives together – just making the most of our time here.”
She downed her drink, took his glass from his hand, and swung her leg across to straddle him where he sat as her towel fell to the floor by his feet.
“We can have a bit of fun, can’t we? Nothing more than that.”
“Only while we are here?”
“Exactly.” She started to unbutton his shirt, and he made no move to resist this time. “Just while we’re already pretending to be married.”