Keth pulled the girl further under the willows shelter and waited with her. Her racking coughs slowed, then stopped. She clung to Keth as if he were her last hope in the world.
s gone,Keth told her over and over. wont come back. Let me fetch you some water from the stream. . .
She shook her head furiously. Her fingers dug deeper into his arm.
not,said Keth. s go and sit, at least.He swung her up in his arms she was just a scrap of a thing and carried her over t o the shrine. The topmost step was dry, protected by the domed roof from the rain that pelted down with a roar. Keth reached out with cupped hands and ferried mouthful after mouthful of rain to the girl. She drank greedily, wincing as the liquid passed th rough her bruised throat.
The rain had slowed to a drizzle again when the arurimi returned. Dema and a number of other arurimi came with them, summoned from the command post. Judging by the mud that splattered all of them royally, Keth guessed they had searched all through the downpour at its worst.
Dema stood in the rain, hands on hips, water pouring from his sopping mage-blue stole and arurim red tunic. were you thinking?he asked amiably enough. What, if anything, was passing through your mind?
Keth glared up at him as the yaskedasu shrank into the shelter of his arm. was killing her. I didnt know when your people would arrive.
Let him go,Dema said, bright-eyed. was right there, almost within our grasp, and you let him escape.
would have been dead if I hadnt cut the scarf from her throat,Keth insisted. To the girl he said gently, them, please.
She raised her chin to show them the plum-and-blue mass around her neck.
Dema refused to meet her eyes. fact remains, he was right here, and you scared him off.
Did he do?Keth asked knowingly. through another of those ridiculous cleansing temples you have?
mages storeroom,grumbled one of the arurimi, smearing mud as he dragged his forearm over his face. s no telling where he went from there.
s probably got escape routes all over the city,Keth said.
know that.Demas voice was thick with awful patience. s why we needed to catch him in the act.
would have died,Keth insisted stubbornly. s the honour in catching him if you let him kill someone else?He held Demas eyes with his own, trying to get the other man to see his point.
The yaskedasu at his side muttered something, and coughed.
Asked Keth.
The yaskedasu looked at him, then glared at the arurimi. she said in a voice like a dry file drawn over broken glass.
murder isnt an okozou matter to me,Keth said fiercely. it shouldnt be okozou to you,he added, with a glare of his own for Dem a.
Dema sighed. right,he told the arurimi. know the drill. Search the area once more, then resume your patrol pattern. Move out.To Keth and the yaskedasu he said, on. Well get you dried off and looked after. And then well try and find out what you saw.
T see nothin,the girl rasped.
know,replied Dema with heavy patience. well try to dredge something from you anyway.
Keth got up and helped the girl to her feet. They followed Dema as the rain slowed, then stopped.
Gla ki was restless that night. Tris finally settled her late, by telling stories of her time at Winding Circle. Outside she felt the rain slack off, build, pour, then stop. There would be no more rain for two days; this storm had moved on. With Glaki asleep at last, she wished the storm well and gave Little Bear a much-needed combing. Chime was a useful dogs maid, her thin claws easily working their way through the matted coat.
When the clocks chimed midnight and Glaki did not so much as twitch, Tris collect ed Chime. Little Bear, worn out by the process of beauti-fication, snored on the bed next to the sleeping child. Once Tris set the usual terms with Ferouze and watched the old woman climb up the stairs to Glaki s room, she settled Chime in the sling at her back and walked out into Chamberpot Alley.
The air was cool and fresh, the winds that explored Khapik lively and curious. Tris slipped off her spectacles and tucked them in her sash, dropping into the trance she would need to scry the winds. As colour, m ovement and shapes soared by, she set off into Khapik. She kept to the back alleys, not wanting the sight of arurimi in disguise to distract her.
The winds were interesting that night. They came from the north-east instead of the usual south-east. She caug ht a glimpse of towering, snow-capped mountains, red stone fortresses and a small, crazed jungle that was once a garden in a dry land. She gasped with wonder at that last. Not only was it infused with magic from root to leaf, but the magic was familiar: B riar s. She would have loved to know how a garden that was such a mess had anything to do with him, but the wind had carried the image away while she groped for more of it. She leaned against a building with a sigh, waited to regain the calm she needed to d o this, and set forth once again.
It was easier to see wind-borne colours and images that night. Darkness and torch-light leeched the colour from her surroundings. Feeling more confident in her ability to navigate, Tris wandered down Woeful Lane, through t he mazes of back-of-the-house paths and service alleys to Painted Place, then out along Drunkards Grief Street. She saw very few people, which was how she wanted it. These were the paths taken by servants, prathmuni, and those whose business in Khapik was suspect. As she made her way the air showed her things: silk gliding along a woman mage s arm, the flare of magic at hennaed fingertips, and a metal bird coming to life. She wanted to see that bird.
Not tonight, she told herself. Youre looking for other things tonight. Standing at the intersection of three streets, she turned, eyes wide, searching for any hint of the Ghost. There: the air blowing down Kettle Court showed her a dirty hand fumbling at a ragged tunic. It yanked out a yellow head veil, a yaskedasi veil.