Cleaning up the spill did not take long, but by the time she finished, Eleret’s skirt was nearly as wet as the towel. She took it off and spread it over the end of the bed, then frowned. The only other clothes she had were the ones she had brought from the mountains. Anyone familiar with Cilhar garb would recognize her full green leggings and soft knee-high boots, even if she pulled her shirt down into a sort of tunic that would cover the top. Eleret shrugged. She had no real choice. She would just have to stay inside, out of sight, until the skirt was dry.
Eleret pulled her own kit out from beneath the bed and started to untie it, then stopped short. The knot was the same one she had used, but it was tied backward. The left-hand thong should have been looped, with the right crossing over and around; instead, the right thong was looped, with the left crossing over and around. Someone had opened the kit while she was out.
Slowly, Eleret untied the thongs and unlaced the flap. The things inside lay just as she had left them, neatly folded and placed to fill the bag as efficiently as possible. One by one, she lifted them out, then shook the empty kit to make certain nothing had been hidden in the bottom. Nothing had. She packed everything up again, wondering whether she was imagining things, then reached for the thongs. No, she would never have tied them that way; it felt awkward and unnatural, and she had to think about every move. Someone else had tied that knot.
Eleret sat back on her heels, fingering the hilt of her knife. Who could it have been? She considered briefly and then dismissed the possibility that the innkeeper or his wife had been snooping; the careful repacking of her kit was unlikely to be the result of casual curiosity. Climeral and Prill were the only people in Ciaron who knew where she was…except for the woman who had followed her from the school. What had she called herself? Jonystra, that was the name. And she had asked about small, old things, like seals and rings…
With a muffled exclamation, Eleret opened her right hand and peered at the raven ring. She turned it on her finger so that the stone was outward, as it should be; then she sat staring. The silver gleamed, untarnished, but the black stone seemed to drink up whatever light fell on it, no matter how she turned it. She felt like a fool for taking so long to connect it with Jonystra’s cryptic remarks. She stroked the carved raven gently with her fingertip, as if by doing so she could learn what made the ring so important to Jonystra and perhaps others.
What had Tamm told her about the ring? The raven was for protection, she remembered that much, and the black stone was for night and shadow. The silver setting meant something, too, but try as she would she could not remember what. It had been handed down from mother to daughter or granddaughter ever since Geleraise Vinlarrian had come to the Mountains of Morravik seven hundred and some-odd years ago, to settle among the Cilhar. “Our good-luck charm,” Tamm had called it, though the luck it had brought her seemed to Eleret to have been of the other variety.
Once more, Eleret turned her hand to catch light on the raven ring; then she shrugged and twisted the ring so that the seal rested against her palm. She wasn’t learning anything by looking at it, and she doubted that Jonystra would be willing to explain her interest. Perhaps Climeral would know something about it—no, she was being foolish. She couldn’t expect Climeral to have all the answers she needed just because he was a Shee and a magician. Eleret sighed. Her curiosity would simply have to go unsatisfied.
Feeling as if she had settled something, however temporarily, Eleret put on her leggings and boots. She was surprised at how much better she felt in her normal dress. She thought for a moment, then went over to the bed and picked up Tamm’s embroidered knife-sheath. With a little work, she could adapt it to wear on her right leg, and she was beginning to think that the more weapons she had handy, the better.
Eleret was tying her second spare thong around the lower part of the sheath when someone knocked at the door. Eleret hesitated, wondering whether to pretend she was not there. But anyone who tried the door would realize that it was barred from the inside, and the visitor was as likely to be someone from Climeral’s school as it was to be the innkeeper or his wife. “Who’s there?” Eleret called.
The knock was repeated and someone mumbled a sentence that did not carry through the door. Eleret frowned and slid the knife out of the sheath she was working on. Holding the weapon so that the opening door would hide it, she eased back the bar and swung the door a handsbreadth out.
From the hall outside, Jonystra Nirandol smiled through the crack. “I’m so glad you’re here. I was just passing by, and I thought I’d stop and see how your day went.”
“As well as I expected,” Eleret replied, staring in undisguised fascination. Jonystra’s dark hair was piled on top of her head in a series of elaborate and precarious-looking waves. Her eyes were heavily outlined in kohl, and two brass medallions dangled from her ears. She wore a loose, floor-length tunic made of a dark blue cotton embroidered in brightly colored silk, and her belt was a chain of medallions that matched her earrings. She looked like some sort of doll.
“Have you finished your business in Ciaron?” Jonystra asked, her smile widening.
“No,” Eleret lied. “I’ll have to go back tomorrow. Something about procedures, they said.”
“Ciaron is like that,” Jonystra said. “Perhaps I could be of some assistance? I’ve dealt with the authorities here before.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Eleret said firmly. “And it might confuse them if I brought an extra person along.”
“True.” Jonystra shrugged, then lowered her head. Light slithered across her waves of hair. “Would you join me for dinner instead? There’s a place near here that’s very entertaining; I was just on my way there. I’m sure I could loan you something to wear, and with your looks you’d create quite a sensation.”
Eleret had a momentary picture of herself dressed as Jonystra was, and nearly laughed aloud. “Thank you, but I’m afraid I can’t. I’ve already made arrangements for dinner.”
“The innkeeper will understand,” Jonystra persisted. “And if you’re only going to be in Ciaron for a week, you ought to see as much as you can.”
“I’m meeting someone,” Eleret said. One inadvertent meal with Jonystra had been enough, to her way of thinking; she was not sitting down to another if she had to invent legions of relatives, friends, and admirers unexpectedly encountered in the town.
Jonystra’s smile slipped. “I thought you didn’t know anyone in Ciaron.”
“I thought so, too,” Eleret said. “But as it turns out, I do. Another night, perhaps. Tomorrow, or the day after?” If Jonystra thought she had arranged to meet Eleret, she wouldn’t suspect that Eleret was planning to leave Ciaron before then. She might even stop pestering Eleret, though that was probably too much to hope for.
“Tomorrow, then.” Jonystra did not appear altogether happy, but as long as she left, Eleret didn’t care much about the woman’s mood. “In the meantime, perhaps—”
“Excuse me,” said a familiar voice from the door at the end of the hall. “But could you tell us—Oh, there you are, Eleret! I was going to ask the innkeeper where to find you, only he wasn’t around, and his wife said you were just down the hall.”
“Hello, Prill,” Eleret said, opening her door a little wider and blessing Prill’s timing. As long as Prill didn’t say the wrong thing, Jonystra would assume that she was Eleret’s intended dinner companion. “I was waiting for you. Come in while I finish getting ready.”
Prill glanced over her shoulder. A tall figure moved out of the shadows and resolved into Lord Daner Vallaniri. Prill shook her head at him and said uncertainly, “I don’t know if—”
“So long as the wait is not a long one, I will be content to stay here,” Daner said. “I am sure the results will be well worth it, and the company is charming.” He gave Jonystra an admiring glance and swept her a bow.
“All right, then,” Prill said. “But don’t go complaining about it later.”
Eleret steppe
d back and swung the door open. “Excuse us,” she said to Jonystra as Prill walked past her and slid into the room. As she closed the door, she heard Daner say coaxingly, “You will keep me company, won’t you?”
“Why did you bring him?” Eleret asked Prill, who was looking around the room with interest.
“Lord Daner? Oh, he’s going to be your guide, if you’ll have him,” Prill said.
“What?” Eleret stopped short in the middle of sheathing her dagger to stare at Prill.
“I told Climeral that would be your reaction,” Prill said with some satisfaction. “But honestly, Daner’s not so bad. And he does know just about every road east of Ciaron; he’s been traveling to Kith Alunel or Brydden or Mindaria or somewhere every year since he was fifteen.”
“Maybe, but is he any good in a fight?”
“Don’t let his mannerisms fool you,” Prill replied seriously. “The last generation of Vallaniris lost a couple of sons in duels and stupid brawls, and ever since they’ve been determined to see that it wouldn’t happen again. They’re among the best swordsmen in the city, and Lord Daner is the best in the family. And don’t forget that he’s a magician, too; that could come in handy.”
“For what?” Eleret turned away and began stripping off her leggings. She could hear the murmur of voices outside the door, and she wondered just what Daner and Jonystra were saying to each other. It was not a comforting idea.
“How should I know?” Prill said. “It depends on what you run into. Starting fires, maybe. And even if he’s not an Adept, he can tell whether anyone is using magic to look for you. If you’re worried about being followed…”
“You’re right,” Eleret said, frowning. “I hadn’t thought of that.” And Climeral had chosen Daner; presumably the Shee Adept had good reasons for regarding him as suitable. “I suppose I ought to give him a chance.”
Prill giggled. “I’m beginning to see why Climeral said this would be a good idea. And Daner thinks Nijole is bad! I wish I could come with you, just to watch.”
“Watch what?” Eleret asked absently as she strapped on her knife. She glanced longingly at the second dagger-and-sheath, but left them lying where they were. Slitting the other skirt pocket would take too much time to do right, and there was no sense in wearing a weapon she could not get at. She pulled on the skirt, which was now only a little damp, and quickly bundled the litter on the bed into her mother’s kit bag. “Let’s go.”
SIX
WHEN ELERET OPENED THE door, she found Daner alone in the hall, gazing toward the stairs with a thoughtful expression. The first thing he said was, “Freelady Salven, how well do you know the woman who was here just now?”
“Better than I’d like,” Eleret replied. “Which is to say, not very well. Come in; we can’t discuss it in the hall.”
“Watch out for her,” Daner said, throwing a last glance at the stairs before he turned to enter Eleret’s room. “You and your plans were the only things she cared about, the whole time she was talking to me. She didn’t want to chat about anything else at all.” He sounded faintly indignant, and Eleret could not keep from smiling.
“I’m not surprised,” she said as she closed the door behind Daner. “I think Jonystra was the one who searched my room this morning, while I was out.”
“Searched your room?” Prill said. “How did you know? Did she take anything? What was she looking for?”
“I’m not sure what she was looking for,” Eleret replied. “I’m not even sure that she went through my things, but someone did. I don’t think it was the innkeeper or his wife, and she’s the only other person outside the school who knew where I was staying.”
“A very unsettling experience, I’m sure,” Daner said sympathetically.
“No, it’s annoying, that’s all. What sort of information was she hunting for?”
Daner blinked, evidently startled by her matter-of-fact reaction to Jonystra’s prying, but he made a quick recovery. “Where had I met you, how long were you planning to stay in Ciaron, where were we going for dinner, how long would we be gone. That sort of thing.”
So Jonystra hadn’t entirely believed Eleret’s comments about her stay in Ciaron. “What did you tell her?”
“Nothing, of course. I’m not a fool, and Climeral said it was important to keep your plans quiet. I told her we hadn’t had a chance to talk much yet.” Daner gave Eleret a long, speculative look. “What are your plans? Or would you rather talk after dinner?”
“After dinner,” Eleret said. She picked up her mother’s kit bag, then bent and retrieved her own from under the bed. “Preferably after dinner and several miles outside Ciaron.”
“But—” Daner looked at Prill and then back to Eleret. “I thought you didn’t intend to leave until tomorrow. And it’s already late; we won’t get very far.”
“If we leave behind the person who searched my room, it’ll be far enough.” Without thinking about it, Eleret checked her weapons—throwing-knife in easy reach through the slit skirt pocket on the left, raven’s-feet poking sharply through the fabric of the pocket on the right—then shouldered the bags. “I want a head start on everyone, if I can get it. Didn’t Climeral tell you I might want to go tonight?”
“Yes, but…” Daner’s voice trailed off and he sighed. “All right, if you insist.”
Prill giggled. “I’ll bet you didn’t believe Climeral. I’ll bet you thought she didn’t mean it. Honestly, Daner—”
“I said all right,” Daner snapped. The tips of his ears were turning red.
“You don’t have to come with me,” Eleret said. After his warning about Jonystra, she was willing to admit that Daner had some intelligence, but she was still not convinced that she wanted him for a companion on the trip home. If he backed out, she wouldn’t even have to feel guilty about not taking Climeral’s suggestion.
“Not come?” Daner’s expression went blank in shocked surprise; then his eyebrows rose in insulted indignation. “And let a girl like you travel all alone, with who knows how many villains waiting for you? Don’t be absurd!”
“In that case, let’s get started,” Eleret said, and turned toward the door.
“What about your bags?”
Eleret gave Daner a puzzled look. “What about them?” she asked, indicating the two kits hanging over her shoulder.
“I mean the rest of your things,” Daner said gently. “You don’t have to leave them behind just because you’re in a hurry, you know.”
“I’m not leaving anything,” Eleret said, still puzzled. “What are you talking about?”
Prill giggled again. “He’s talking about his sisters, that’s what he’s talking about. They can’t go anywhere without at least six trunks’ worth of dresses and cloaks and veils and things. Freelady Salven’s a Cilhar, Lord Daner, not a court lady.”
“I’m beginning to think I don’t have the slightest idea what that means,” Daner said, looking at Eleret’s bags with patent disbelief. Eleret thought of Jonystra’s dress and almost smiled. Perhaps she wouldn’t have to worry about the woman as much as she had thought. Traveling with trunks full of clothes would certainly slow her down.
“He’s right about one thing, though,” Prill said. “You shouldn’t carry your kits out in plain sight like that. Anyone who sees you will know you’re leaving.”
“Not if they share Lord Daner’s opinions,” Eleret said. “But I can’t be sure they will.” She frowned, thinking. She had her dagger and her raven’s-feet, and she had the raven ring. The bags of money Commander Weziral had given her were still tied in uncomfortable lumps inside her sash. She wouldn’t like to lose the things in the bags, but she could get along without them if she had to. But if she didn’t have to… She turned to Daner. “Will you carry them? If you drape your cloak a bit more toward the front, you can keep them out of sight a lot better than I can.”
“Drape my cloak…” Daner sounded as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “It’ll ruin the line!”
Prill dissolved in laughter. Eleret looked from her to Daner. “The line?”
“The way it hangs,” Daner said uncomfortably. “It’s cut to fall back across the shoulder, like this. Pulling it forward doesn’t look right.”
He flipped the right side of his cloak down across his arm. It didn’t look particularly odd to Eleret, but it wasn’t worth arguing about. She shrugged. “I’ll have to take the chance, then. Let’s go.”
“You—I—Oh, give them here.” Daner all but snatched the two kits from Eleret’s hand. They disappeared under his cloak, and after a few shrugs and a great deal of muttering Daner pronounced himself ready. Eleret studied him critically to make sure the bags really were not readily visible, then nodded. Daner gave her a dark look, which Eleret ignored, and they left the room.
Before departing from the inn, Eleret hunted down the innkeeper and explained that she had found some friends and would not be returning until very late. She also paid him in advance for three days’ lodging, hoping that this would convince him and anyone to whom he might mention it that she was staying in Ciaron.
Outside the inn, Eleret turned to Daner. “Which is the best way out of the city from here?”
“If you want to head directly for the mountains, we should use one of the gates on the east side,” Daner said, pointing. “But it’ll be quicker if we leave from the north and swing around the outside of the city.”
“Why?” Eleret asked. “It doesn’t look far.”
“Because to get to the east side of Ciaron from here, we’d have to swing north anyway to avoid the tenements. And because I want some travel supplies of my own. There’s a trade station by the north city wall where I can pick up the necessary gear. You can’t seriously expect me to leave town without money or spare clothes.”