co ornament

10

ECLIPSE

Aly woke before dawn once more, although no tentacle tickled her nose.

“Are you sleeping late or something?” she asked Trick.

“Not sleeping,” replied the darking. “Listening. Reportsreportsreports. All city mostly same report. Scared. Everyone scared. If people die just to look at her, what happens when she asks for throne? Most of the ones who want to know are raka or poor, or poor and raka. If duke in Kanodang, who next? some say. If Topabaw falls, who next? some ask. Most of those who ask are nobles or soldiers. If king die, if regents die, who rules? Most asking that one are nobles. More Stormwings come from north. Flame came home from Kanodang. All darkings in house back in Aly's room before warriors come to practice,” Trick added mournfully. “They ask, when do they get to do real work? Boring, staying in house all day.”

“Tonight,” Aly whispered. “Most of you will go to the palace tonight, and those who go will stay there.”

“But not me,” said Trick.

Aly grimaced. She knew what it was like to be penned up all day, not allowed to go out and have what she thought of as fun. “Trick, if you can train someone to do for me what you do, you can stay at the palace,” she whispered. “You deserve some fun.”

“No!” squeaked Trick. “I was fooling!”

Aly considered that, grinning. “So where did you learn how to tease?” she asked.

“Like I say, you more fun than anybody,” Trick replied, lightly tightening its beadlike self around Aly's neck in something that felt like a hug.

Aly leaned her cheek against the darking. “Nawat would like you,” she murmured, missing her crow-man.

“Then I meet Nawat one day,” replied Trick.

Aly got up. She practiced with the warriors, then took a complete bath. Once she had dressed Dove and sent her to breakfast, she threw open the shutters and looked outside. It will be perfect for an eclipse if the weather holds, she thought, watching Stormwings bait a lone crow in the cloudless sky. The crow flew lower and lower, until it nearly touched the treetops of Middle Town. An army of nearly one hundred crows exploded from the trees, going after the Stormwings.

The crows reminded her of a duty. Tilting back her head, she voiced a hoarse caw. Three crows, idly watching the Stormwings streak toward the palace, came to perch on the windowsill. Aly was asking them to gather their dropped feathers as they did those of Stormwings when one tried to grab Trick. The darking wriggled and turned itself into a cobra with its cowl fully extended, striking at the crow. The crow squawked and fell off the ledge.

“I teach him,” Trick said proudly, and turned itself back into a necklace. The other crows were too busy mocking their disgraced comrade to take offense. When they calmed down, they agreed to leave their feathers where Chenaol could find them. Then they spotted a five-man squad of the King's Watch marching in patrol on Joshain Street. They flew off saying, if Aly understood them correctly, that they would give the soldiers “wet face surprises.”

Dove went out with Aly and her guard, visiting a maker of fine chessboards, a seller of Yamani goods, and a beggar on the steps of the small temple dedicated to Gunapi the Sunrose, the Kyprin goddess of war and flowing lava. Waiting for Dove and the beggar to finish an involved discussion about the rice crop, Aly kept her eyes on her surroundings. People were starting to add the open shackle to the embroideries on their clothes. She saw it on shop steps and the sides of wagons. If the people knew what it meant, the rebellion had more support in Rajmuat than she had thought.

When they returned to the house, Aly felt tension in the air, humming like a plucked bowstring. There was nothing she could do to ease it. After all, she wasn't supposed to know the details of the Kanodang escape, though thanks to the darking Lace she had everything but Nomru's boot size. By now she knew the raka conspiracy's true reach and numbers in Rajmuat, particularly in the city's jails, including Kanodang. She was impressed. They've been holding out on me, Aly thought. How sneaky of them!

She envied the spies of her pack. They were keyed up but able to joke as they passed on their day's gatherings of information. They, at least, would be having fun as Trick termed it.

Stop that, Aly told herself. You'll have a quiet bit of fun yourself tonight. It won't be as enjoyable as watching bad things burn, but life is imperfect that way.

By midafternoon the Balitang ladies were ready to leave. The evening's festivities included a banquet before the eclipse party, with the regents and a chosen few dozen. Invitation to the feast as well as to the party was a gesture of condescension from the regents to the Balitangs, and they were all keenly aware of it.

“I think she's trying to be kind to us,” Sarai muttered to Dove, reading over the letter of invitation one last time. “So people will say how charitable she is.”

“What do you care?” asked Dove, snatching the letter from her. “All your puppy dogs will be there, panting after you—Ferdy, Druce, Zaimid . . .”

“Zaimid is hardly panting after me,” Sarai told her younger sister. “And Ferdy is too conscious of his wealth to pant. Drool a bit, yes, but never pant.”

For this trip to the palace, the dress boxes in the wagon held dinner gowns and party ones. Aly, Pembery, and Boulaj had gone over every stitch with exacting care, making sure their ladies would be perfectly dressed that night. In packing Dove's box, Aly also managed to slip in a garment of her own, a fresh suit from Ochobu that would cause anyone who saw Aly in it to forget they had done so. Aly hardly believed she would be so sloppy as to be seen, but there was no point in taking risks. Under the forgetting suit was a pouch full of very excited darkings. They squeaked with pleasure as Aly tucked them away, and assured her they would have no problem breathing in the box because they didn't breathe.

Once the boxes were stowed, the ladies' maids took their positions. Pembery and Lady Nuritin's maid, Dorilize, rode in the wagon. Boulaj walked beside Sarai, Aly beside Dove. Dove, cross at having to socialize at dinner as well as the eclipse party, read as she rode. If she noticed the people in the street or in upper-story windows who watched as their company passed, she gave no sign of it. At a nod from the duchess, the men-at-arms drew closer to their party. Aly checked the crowd often, noting her spies and their recruits mingling, spreading doubts about Topabaw and his standing with the regents.

The ladies changed for dinner in the Robing Pavilion. The duchess wore a dark maroon undergown and a sheer black silk overgown, her jewelry equally modest. Sarai gleamed in pale amber silk under creamy gauze, her jewelry simple as well. Dove had chosen dark amber under black gauze. All three wore sheer silk veils secured to their neatly done hair with jeweled pins. As they walked to the Rittevon Enclosure, Aly felt her heart swell with pride. They made the other nobles look overdressed.

Inside the wall they found the towering stone L that was called the Gray Palace. As they walked its halls, they saw countless goods the invaders had looted from their raka subjects on display. They included copper statues turned green with time, gaudy silk rugs and tapestries, figures carved of gemstone, and jewelry made of copper and gold, polished to a brilliant shine. It was all set up to present a message: to the rulers of the Isles, the raka would always be the conquered, not equals.

Royal servants separated the guests, escorting the men to one salon and the ladies to the next. Here maids gave their mistresses' appearances a last going-over. As Aly tugged a fold here and straightened a sleeve there, she placed a darking on top of one of Dove's shoes. The darking was to remain in the dining hall when Dove left there.

With their ladies gone, the maids settled to wait, in case their mistresses tore out a hem or stained their clothes during the meal. Later the servants could relax at the Robing Pavilion. For the time being they ate their suppers as they chattered with acquaintances. Aly nodded to Boulaj and opened Dove's dress box. Casually she drew out her forget-me suit and the pouch of darkings, tucking both into the large cloth bag that held a maid's necessities. When Aly had everything she needed, she went in search of the privy.

The nobles' servants not only had a separate privy at the Gray Palace, but one with stalls, for privacy. Aly entered one and bolted the door. She stripped off her clothes until she wore only her Trick necklace, a breast band, and a loincloth. She pulled the suit out of its bag and was nearly blinded as the spells on it, made by Ochobu, left spots on her magical Sight. She slid the garment on and secured it as her vision cleared. Then she donned the gloves and shoes, tucked the darkings' pouch into an opening in the suit, and pulled up and tightened the hood until only her eyes were visible.

Aly put her sarong and sash into the bag and closed it. She listened to make sure no one else had come in, then left the privy. Carrying the bag low, where few might notice it, she returned to the salon. Most of the servants were still at the food tables, loading their plates. Boulaj sat near their ladies' dress boxes, a full plate in her hands. Aly set her bag behind the boxes. Boulaj would not remember seeing her, but she knew what the bag meant. If anyone came looking for Aly, Boulaj would send them in all the wrong directions.

Thanks to the raka conspirators among the palace staff, Aly had memorized the map of the Gray Palace. Thanks to her magical Sight, she saw and avoided the alarm spells. The vision spells that littered the rooms and halls slid uselessly over her suit, not recognizing it as anything more than empty cloth. Moving silently, Aly placed two darkings in the small throne room of the inner palace. They chittered their glee and began to explore their new home.

Walking onto an outside terrace, Aly eyed the rough stone of the walls, then began to climb. It was simple enough. The Gray Palace's builders had been in such a hurry to build a defensible stronghold that they had not smoothed the stones, and their approach to mortar had been haphazard. Cracks between the blocks gave a determined climber hand- and footholds. Once again she had her palace informers to thank. Masters here had no idea that their servants and slaves clambered up and down the walls to spy or to steal.

Moving as quickly as she dared, Aly released darkings in Imajane's and Rubinyan's rooms. She placed two darkings in the private audience chamber where the regents discussed delicate matters with favored subjects, one in the informal dining room used by the regents, and others in the clerk's office, Rubinyan's study, and a map room. One darking went to the office next to Rubinyan's study, where his personal spymaster, Sevmire, worked. She sent four in search of the kitchens and the servants' quarters. She even left a darking in the king's bedroom, just so she could say she had done it. She hardly expected anyone to discuss royal policy with Dunevon, but the regents might say something interesting to the King's Guard in a moment of irritation.

Feeling pleased with herself, she changed back into her normal clothes and returned to her fellow maids. The thinner pouch of darkings stayed with her as she left two more where the servants awaited their masters.

The banquet ended eventually. The nobles went back to the Robing Pavilion to change out of dinner clothes and into those considered appropriate for viewing an eclipse. The maids then completed the last touches on their ladies' hair and makeup. Vereyu presided over them all, taking in everything. She and Aly had exchanged nods when Aly had followed Dove into the ladies' side of the pavilion.

As the women worked and chattered, many part- or full-raka maids volunteered to do any service for Sarai or Dove. Aly shared what duties she could, ignoring Dove's request for people to stop fussing. Boulaj stood back and let other maids tend Sarai if they could do so without their own mistresses' noticing. Observing that Nuritin watched this with a frown, Aly shifted her position to block the old woman's view. She wasn't sure how far to trust Nuritin or her secretary and maid yet, if she could trust them at all.

Sarai was oblivious to the quiet war for her attention. She smiled at everyone and gossiped with her friends. Aly let three darkings slip to the floor as she listened.

“It's not right,” a young woman complained. “At least five men are jostling for your favors! You could share!”

Sarai giggled. “You could have most of them with my blessing. Really, some of these fellows must think we're no more intelligent than sheep. The only one who treats me like I've a brain in my head is the Carthaki.”

“Does that mean Ferdy is out of contention?” one of Sarai's friends inquired, inspecting her lip color in a mirror. “I'll take him if you let him know you're not interested.”

Sarai smiled at her. “And will you take that female Stormwing who gave birth to him?”

Isalena shuddered at the thought of living with Lady Genore Tomang. “Into every life some rain must fall. Besides, I don't want to keep him, just use him for a month or two.” She sighed. “He has such lovely muscles!”

A footman wearing Obemaek livery appeared in the door to the outside and beckoned to one of the Obemaek maids. He had the air of a man with important news. All of the women fell silent and watched, while Aly's belly cramped. Had something gone wrong? Had the prison break been discovered before it had even begun?

The footman left. The maid turned and saw that all eyes were on her. “Oh, my,” she whispered. Then she straightened. “There is news. The raka on the Velochiru estates of Imahyn Isle have risen in revolt. They have burned the overseer's home and the Velochiru's family home there. The governor has sent to the regents for the army.”

Oh, that, thought Aly with disdain. We knew about that last night.

Most of the women present made the star-shaped Sign against evil on their chests. Any slaves with raka blood retreated to the rear wall of the pavilion; raka and part-raka maids stepped back, wary eyes on their mistresses. All around the room noblewomen shifted, their hands and feet restless. Their eyes were unsure, their voices soft. They were frightened. Some had turned their eyes toward the raka. More were looking at the door to the Robing Pavilion.

Winnamine thanked Pembery and got to her feet. She looked at the other nobles and smiled. “It could simply be a rumor.” She looked at Nuritin, who nodded. “I will inquire of Their Highnesses.” She swept from the room before anyone could say a word against it.

“What has gotten into the raka?” asked a noblewoman, her voice quavering with anxiety. “This is the second rising this month. Do they forget what they owe to us?”

Those of raka blood in the room, all servants or slaves, looked carefully at the glossy boards of the floor, doing their best imitation of women who could not hear. Aly shook her head. People always believe what they want to believe, not what's true, she thought with disgust. They never use their eyes and see the world around them.

“These will be wild raka,” said a woman in her sixties, one of Nuritin's friends. “Or slaves on some huge rice farm, ruled by a paid overseer. This is the ill that comes of not looking after your own lands. Those who farm for you can't feel a servant's affection for someone who is not there.”

“Forgive me, Lady Ankoret,” began Sarai politely, addressing Nuritin's friend, “but there are brutal owners as well as overseers. Some bitternesses come not from bad present usage. They come from seeing others profit from the lands where your ancestors are buried. Have you seen how the raka in the big rice farms and in the mines live? I don't understand how we can treat our people so.”

“Saraiyu Balitang!” cried Nuritin. “Apologize at once and speak with respect for your elders!”

Sarai got to her feet. “Forgive me if I offended, Great-aunt, Lady Ankoret,” she said proudly, her chin raised, “but I think also of the elders who work in the fields and the mines.” She swept out of the room like a queen. Aly heard a worshipful sound, though it would be impossible to identify the ones who had made it.

Dove made a face. “Idiot,” she murmured. “We need to put a muzzle on her.”

Aly, kneeling beside Dove, raised an eyebrow.

“Don't look at me,” protested Dove. “I'm going to marry Baron Engan and have my own personal observatory. Someone else can muzzle Sarai.”

Aly couldn't help it. She giggled softly into her hands, then murmured, “Until the excitement of being married to you kills him, anyway.”

She heard the whisper of silks and brocades in movement and rose instantly to her feet. The other maids and slaves, trained to notice such tiny clues, also stood as Princess Imajane swept in, Winnamine at her elbow. The maids and slaves bowed low and stayed that way. The noblewomen and young ladies rose and curtsied to the princess regent. Imajane was a sight to inspire awe and fear. She wore her hair braided and coiled on her head like a crown. Her large blue eyes, lined with kohl, blazed in a pale, tight-drawn face. Her mouth, red with color, was tight as well. Her hands clenched and unclenched in the folds of her ice blue silk gown and white silk overrobe.

“I see that news travels fast,” she said, her voice cutting through the heavy spring air. “I assure you, ladies, the situation on Imahyn is trifling. We must not give it more attention than it deserves. The Goddess has blessed us with an unusual event tonight as she veils her face. We would not forego this for something of importance, let alone the unrest of a small rabble. Come. The Jade Pavilion awaits us. Baron Engan, His Majesty's own astronomer, has a new spyglass that I think is quite extraordinary. Lady Nuritin, Lady Ankoret, you would honor me if you gave me your arms.”

With the two oldest ladies in the room, the princess left the pavilion. The other ladies trailed after her, Sarai at the center of a tiny knot of younger women, and Dove with her mother. Aly straightened from her bow along with the rest of the servants and slaves.

Whatever else you can say about the princess regent, she has the royal manner, Aly thought wryly. Once I'm rid of Topabaw—maybe even before I'm rid of him—I need to work out a way to drive a wedge between the regents.

Many of the servants settled in for their evening's wait. The male servants drifted over from the men's side of the Robing Pavilion to gossip or flirt. A few people had brought cards and dice. Some of the maids did embroidery or bobbin lace. Others went for a walk on the palace grounds as the day's heat faded. Aly, too, went out, stepping around a pair of crowned pigeons. She idled along the Golden Road until she entered the gardens at the southwest corner of the palace. Slowly she walked along, listening to other passersby as they speculated about the news from Imahyn, the rebellion on Tongkang, and the boy king's health. When she reached the path that followed the edge of the pond, Aly halted. Taybur Sibigat looked as if he'd been waiting for her. There was a broad smile on his boyish face. He stood casually in his black mail, one hand tucked into his breeches pocket.

“Do you know, I thought I might find you around here,” he greeted her, his words pelting her in his usual rush to get them all said. “A wonderful evening for an eclipse, isn't it? How goes the contact-making process? Have you recruited anyone in the Gray Palace yet?”

Aly widened her eyes in fear, though inside she was delighted. She needed a playmate while Nawat was away. She could serve both the rebels and herself if Taybur held that position. “My lord—”

“Oh, please,” he interrupted. “Spare me. Pretend that you've said the ‘I don't know what you mean' speech and we may both continue our evening with more time for a proper talk. I've been dealing with dolts all day and I have a headache. And they're keeping His Majesty up past his bedtime, even though they know it makes him cranky.” He held out the hand he'd kept in his pocket and opened his fist. It contained a darking: the one named Spot, because it was about half the size of its fellows. The one she had left in the king's bedroom.

Aly took a big step back.

“It's the most curious thing,” Taybur said. “I briefly left the king in his room, and I return to find him bouncing on the bed with this little fellow. He's rather sweet, whatever he is. He even said hello. Dunevon said he caught him rolling around the walls. So I asked him what he is, and he said—”

“Darking,” interrupted Spot, putting up its head so it could look over its blob shoulder at Taybur.

“Yes, that was it. So I asked his name, and he said—”

“Spot,” the darking told him. “Dunevon like Spot. Spot like Dunevon.”

Aly wanted to knock her head slowly and repeatedly against the nearest tree. Approached the right way, the darkings could be fatally friendly. Spot was younger than the rest, which was why she had used it in the king's bedroom. She honestly hadn't thought Spot would learn anything important, but the darking had been so depressed to see Aly collect most of its fellows that she couldn't bear it. This is what I get for being sentimental, she told herself.

“The thing talks,” said Aly, playing the timid maid still. “It's not natural.”

Taybur ignored this. “And then I asked Spot what he was doing in the king's bedroom. First he said . . .” With a nod, he indicated Spot could fill in.

“Nothing,” the darking supplied.

“So I asked again, and this time he said . . .”

“Playing,” Spot responded.

“And I asked him why, and he said . . .”

“Secret.”

“Secret,” agreed Taybur, smiling. “I've known the folk who poke their noses through the palace for years. Even the new ones are all alike. They use the same tools, corrupt people in the same positions, use the same codes. Then you arrive, Aly Homewood. You are not what I expect. And then I find another thing I do not expect, and I'm sure it's no accident that you're in the Gray Palace at the same time. I imagine you may have sowed these little creatures—”

“Darkings!” Spot insisted.

“These darkings in the hope they will gather information for you,” Taybur said, closing his fist to hide Spot as several parties of nobles passed by on their way to the pavilions. Aly thought it over and mentally shrugged. If he'd meant harm to her, she would be in shackles. When the nobles were gone, she crossed the path to stand closer to Taybur.

As if he'd never gone silent, Taybur opened his fist and continued speaking. “I don't care if you've left darkings from the dungeons to the rooftops of the Gray Palace. If you've left one in my office, prepare for disappointment. I discuss nothing important in there. Topabaw has papered it in listening spells. Eavesdrop on palace gossip all you like, though if you can afford medicine for migraines, I'd invest in it. It's like eavesdropping on vipers. But this”—he patted Spot's head with a finger—“no. Dunevon is a little boy who deserves silence and consideration. And he is my charge. Please don't go into his bedroom again . . . though don't mistake me, I'd love to know just how you did it.” He thrust the darking at her.

Aly knew she'd get nowhere if she argued. Instead, keeping an eye on Taybur, she reached out and took Spot. “It's warm,” she said with surprise, as if she'd never seen one before. Holding Spot up to her face, she spoke to it as if she might a very small child as she asked, “Now, confess, little fellow. What were you doing in the king's bedroom?”

Spot looked at her, or at least, the position of its head-blob showed that it looked at her. It remembered this part of its instructions, that it was to act as if it had never seen or heard Aly before. “Secret,” it told her.

She looked up at Taybur, still acting the part of an ordinary maid. “Can't His Majesty keep it? It seems harmless enough.” She gave him a shy smile.

He grimaced. “Because I work very hard to keep those rooms like a proper child's home, and because he deserves a place where he can be himself with harm or advantage to no one but himself. Because I think someone should be able to cry himself to sleep in privacy.”

Aly petted Spot with her finger, thinking about Taybur's approach with her. Many spies could be erratic. All her life she had dealt with her father's agents and with the agents of other countries, and she could testify that this was so. Some of them, however, knew the reality of the world. Her instincts told her that Taybur understood that spies were inevitable. If she did no harm to him, he would do no harm to her. She was under no illusions. If he'd been in Topabaw's place, guarding the kingdom, she would have been on the next ship to someplace nasty. But she couldn't see this man having a person killed just for doing their work unless it hurt someone. If he thought she meant harm to Dunevon, she would not be surprised to find herself dropping into a deep stream filled with meat-eating fish some night.

A child's furious “No!” cut through the summer air. Taybur shook his head. “If they let him eat soursop fruit again, I swear, I'll shackle the regents in the dungeon. It always makes him sick.” He turned and hurried away. Aly sat on a bench tucked between hedges to think.

Point one, she thought as Spot climbed up her shoulder to be consoled by Trick. Dunevon has a devoted guardian. A devoted, clever, attentive guardian. One with very good instincts. Point two. What will the raka do with Taybur when they rebel? He won't let them murder his king without a fight. Three. How wide does Taybur cast his net? Does he know about Kanodang and Nomru?

That one was easily answered. If he had legions of spies at his beck and call, he would have set a few on Aly at Balitang House to understand her better. He was too relaxed for someone who knew the raka plans to open up Kanodang and steal its treasures. He probably kept most of his people inside the palace, where they could watch Dunevon and anyone close to him.

She nibbled her lip. She needed a plan to get Taybur out of the country without killing him, if possible. He was no fool, and he guarded a Rittevon king.

Even the rebels had an affection for the big man. Ulasim and Fesgao had mentioned that the new captain of the King's Guard treated raka as if they were luarin. The main problem would be getting him away from his charge.

That was the other problem: his charge. Aly had always thrust away the knowledge that Dunevon and Elsren would probably be killed for the crime of possessing Rittevon blood. She couldn't thrust it away now, not if she wanted to avoid killing Dunevon's diverting guardian, and not if she didn't want children's blood on her hands.

What if we let him take Dunevon? she asked herself. Ulasim and the others would kick at leaving the boy alive, but if Dunevon and Elsren both swear in blood they will never try to take back the Crown or the Isles, it might work.

It was a dream. Part of her knew that, the part that had been raised in the brutal schools of history and royal politics. She refused to listen to it.

Aly continued her amble toward the water. Crystal globe lamps shone on two of the water's three pavilions: the central one was dark. Shifting her Sight to see better over distance, she found Baron Engan's immense spyglass there, where the globe lights would not make it impossible to view the sky. Dove stood at his side, chatting, as did Winnamine and some other nobles. Aly hoped that Dove had stopped at the Jade Pavilion before she had joined the astronomer, so that the darking Aly had set on her mistress's shoe at the Robing Pavilion could eavesdrop. Not for the first time she thanked the gods the creatures were so light. Had Dove noticed it, she would have asked questions that Aly dared not answer.

From the Jade Pavilion Aly heard Sarai's infectious laugh. The regents were visible, seated in open-backed armchairs, surrounded by their cronies. A third empty chair with an extra cushion on the seat, obviously meant for the king, stood between Imajane and Rubinyan.

Taybur strode down the path that led from the Jade Pavilion with two guards at his back and a shrieking four-year-old in his arms. He nodded to Aly as he passed, then halted abruptly. Turning Dunevon to the side, he positioned his charge so he could vomit into a clump of bushes.

Aly had helped to care for Elsren for over a year. The minute she heard the king gurgle she stepped down to the water and quickly soaked the extra handkerchiefs any lady's maid carried for emergencies. She peeled off a wet linen square and offered it to Taybur.

“Soursop fruit?” she asked as he cleaned Dunevon's face. Another handkerchief went to cool the boy's forehead, a third the back of his neck. Gently Taybur smoothed damp black curls from the child's face.

“They don't know,” he replied with soft savagery. “They weren't really watching him, since they knew the guards wouldn't let him off the pavilion and the walls on it are too high for him to climb. He could have eaten anything.” He glanced at the vomit. “Oh, splendid—soursop fruit and curry. Excuse me.” He strode down the path, the guards hurrying to catch up, the boy king sobbing quietly on his shoulder.

Aly frowned. She didn't enjoy liking those she was supposed to bring down, like Dunevon and his large protector. They stood between the raka and their freedom. Something had to be done, but the thought of killing either of them made her grind her teeth.

In soaking her handkerchiefs, she had spied a bench placed just by the water, one that gleamed with magical discouragements to insects and snakes. Though sheltered by a willow, the seat gave Aly a clear view of all three water pavilions. She settled there, hoping that no one chose this hidden place for a lovers' encounter, though it was clearly designed for that. The sounds of flutes, harps, and soft drums floated over the water through air like smooth balm.

Watching darkness fall, she considered the night's activities. Her own people would be taking positions on either side of the fortresses. Ulasim's had been seeping into Kanodang for the last day, locked up as prisoners until they could guide the freed captives to horses, boats, or hiding places.

“This is taking too long.” Kyprioth, dressed as a raka and tinkling with charms, appeared in front of Aly's nose.

Aly shrugged. She had been watching Rubinyan and two of his nobles discuss horse racing. She had already seen that no one on the Jade Pavilion dared to speak of the newest rebellion. “An eclipse party does have to wait for the eclipse to happen. You're blocking my view.”

“I didn't mean the eclipse,” snapped the god. “I can't distract my brother and sister forever, Aly.”

She raised her brows. “We've done quite nicely for rebels who have only been back in town for a month. I would like to point out that this week will be quite eventful, thank you so much.” She cocked her head and looked at him. “We need the luarin, Kyprioth. Unless enough of them come to our side, we'll fail. You need strength to battle the others? You say you get that from victories. We haven't won that many yet. Though it sounds peculiar, we short-lived creatures need time.” She leaned back against the bench. “The country's coming to a boil. Once we convince those who are unconvinced that the regents are not good rulers but vicious ones, that this isn't just a matter of the raka bringing up old grievances, it will be war, and you'll have your victories.”

Kyprioth tugged the emerald earring that glinted in the light from the pavilions. “Every day it takes to drive these people along, we are a day closer to my brother and sister's return. So it's vicious rulers you need? Maybe I can work at that.” He vanished.

“If you use your power now, your brother and sister will know anyway,” Aly told the empty air.

“There is power, and there is power, my dear,” she heard him whisper. “My power can be vast, in the right places.”

Aly shook her head. They moved forward as fast as they could, the conspirators in Rajmuat and the ones on the outlying Isles. Since she couldn't control any of them, she could only wait and do her own work. She remained on her bench, her Sight locked on the nobles on the Jade Pavilion. Most of them spoke of social matters. Officers of the royal navy complained to Lord Matfrid of strangely choppy seas and difficult voyages. Ferdy tried to tell the Carthaki Zaimid that nobles did not raise horses themselves. Sarai shoved him with one hand and told him he was stuffy.

Each time Aly tired of reading one conversation, she turned her gaze to Topabaw. He was always easy to find. His array of magical amulets and the glare of his magical Gift burned in her Sight.

Topabaw was restless. He fiddled with his charms, changed position, and rubbed the nape of his neck. For a while he paced around the edges of the pavilion, until Prince Rubinyan shot him a glare that made the spymaster halt.

The next time Aly could read Topabaw's lips, he was assuring a couple of nervous men that the winter had simply made the raka crazy, and it would wear off. Another time he refused to discuss Duke Nomru's arrest with Count and Countess Tomang. More than anyone else, he kept glancing at the regents, his jaw muscles clenched. Topabaw was nervous. And he was nervous about his masters.

Aly smiled.

The moon had begun to rise when she heard steps on the path. She stiffened, then relaxed: the steps were Taybur's. The big man walked straight down to the water's edge without hesitation. He pushed aside trailing willow limbs and entered her enclosure.

She looked up at him and raised an eyebrow as he sat beside her.

“Fear not, gentle maiden. I have no intentions on your virtue.”

“You're no fun,” Aly accused. If she'd thought for a moment he had such intentions, she would have made it plain she was uninterested. Once she would have worried more that he gave no sign that he thought her attractive, but these days she didn't care. She had changed from who she'd been in Tortall, but she refused to ask herself how.

Taybur leaned back and thrust his long legs out, crossing his ankles as he folded his hands on his chest. “Any other night and you'd have to fight for this spot, you know,” he said blithely. “It's popular with lovers. But with the news from Imahyn, the servants not on duty are hiding, and the nobles want the regents to see their smiling, loyal faces.” He sighed. “People don't know how to appreciate a spring night anymore. By the way, according to my agents, there is no family named Homewood in service at Fief Tameran in Tortall.”

Only years of training kept Aly from betraying shock. Instead she yawned, keeping her eyes on the Jade Pavilion. Beyond it, on the dark Lapis Pavilion, Baron Engan adjusted his spyglass as Dove and a few young scholars looked on.

“If you're worried about Topabaw, don't,” Taybur said lazily. “Look, there's the first firefly. Make a wish. Topabaw is so used to people being afraid of him that he's gotten lazy. My people visited Tameran at a certain risk to themselves. I don't want to share their reports with a man who thinks torture gets honest answers. You can speak, can't you?”

Aly looked down. Her mouth quivered with amusement.

Spot emerged from its silent conversation with Trick, rolling along the back of Aly's neck to sit on the shoulder closest to Taybur. He offered his palm to the darking, who created four legs for itself and walked across his fingers.

“In case you're thinking I'm lazy, I did give my mages a chance at this little fellow before I returned him to you. Their magic just bounced off.” He idly tossed Spot into the air.

“Whee!” cried the darking. It spread out two wings to slow its descent onto Taybur's palm.

“You are easily pleased,” Taybur informed it. He passed Spot back to Aly and glanced up through a break in the leaves. “The Goddess begins to draw her veil. If you'll excuse me?” He stood, then seemed to think of something else. His face was shadowed as he looked down at Aly. “Things can't be easy for a full luarin in service in a household with so many raka. If you ever need a friend, come to me.” He strode out of the willow's shelter, then turned back again, almost giving Aly a fit of the giggles. He was very good and had the timing of an actor. “Have you seen how edgy Topabaw's been lately? Wouldn't you love to know why?”

This time he continued on his way to the Jade Pavilion. Soon after his arrival the light globes winked out to allow the nobles a clear view of the darkening moon.

The eclipse was predicted to last nearly until dawn. Once the moon's face was covered, however, many nobles, including the Balitang ladies, said their good nights. Dove followed her mother and sister reluctantly, glancing up at the hidden moon.

Seeing them on the path, Aly trotted back to the Robing Pavilion, grateful that they would be home long before the alarm was raised at Kanodang. She had not liked the risk of being near the palace when the regents learned of the prison break.

“I was down by the Lily Water. Many of the lords are preparing to leave,” she announced to her fellow servants. Immediately the men returned to their masters' side of the pavilion. Cards were put away, sewing packed up, boxes opened for a change to clothes better suited to riding or litters. Pembery sent a runner to alert the men-at-arms and the hostlers that it was time to go. When the ladies arrived, the maids helped them change clothes.

They were part of a large group of nobles riding into the city. Ferdy and Jevair Ibadun urged their horses to either side of Sarai, glaring at one another behind her back. Zaimid joined the Balitangs at the last minute, riding a spirited mare whose grace made Sarai's eyes shine. Instead of jostling with the other two men, he rode with the duchess and Nuritin, talking about the evening and politics in Carthak. Dove rode just behind them, listening.

Party by party, the nobles left the main group to finish the trip to their scattered homes. The Balitangs' companions, including Zaimid, turned away when they reached Joshain Street. They assured the ladies they were going straight to bed, but no one was fooled. There was plenty to interest lively young men in Dockmarket at that hour.

Once Aly was brushing out Dove's hair in the girl's bedroom, Dove glared at her in the looking glass. “Now will you tell me what's got you on pins and needles?” she whispered. She didn't want to rouse Junai, who'd gone to sleep the moment she lay down on her pallet. “You hide it well, but you've been too alert all day. It's the same with Ulasim, Fesgao, and Ochobu these last two days. I asked Quedanga, but she says that the chiefs in different areas don't talk about special projects with anyone who isn't involved, just those who help them to pull things together.”

Aly shook her head. “It's better for those of us who don't take active part to hear as things happen.”

“So when anyone asks if we knew what was going on, we can say no, and it will read to a mage as the truth,” Dove said, making sure that she had understood it correctly.

“If you're so clever, what do you need me for?” teased Aly, putting the brush aside.

Dove sniffed. “Two clevers are better than one.” She turned on her stool to look at Aly. “But you know, don't you? Even though you aren't supposed to, you already know what's going on, because that's what you do. Ulasim told me once that he wouldn't be surprised if you'd found ways to listen to them when you aren't about. He thinks you probably know the shape of everything, the entire rebellion, throughout the Isles. I think so, too.”

I could sometimes wish she were a bit less intelligent, thought Aly. No wonder most of her friends are adults.

“As long as I do no harm with what I've picked up, I don't see why anyone should even care,” she assured her mistress. “Don't we each have enough on our plates, without adding more?”

“Except that it's your job to collect more for your plate,” Dove pointed out, then yawned. She got to her feet and went to bed. “Good night, Aly.”

Aly hesitated, watching Dove get comfortable. “I am sorry you missed the rest of the eclipse,” she whispered.

“There will be a solar eclipse in August,” Dove murmured sleepily. “Half the court says it's a grand omen, the other half claims it's troubles on the rise.”

Aly said, her voice breathless and panicky, “But, lady, with these raka up to mischief, the gods are obviously trying to warn us. We could be murdered in our beds!”

“You will be if you aren't quiet,” grumbled Junai.

Aly waited until both Dove and Junai fell asleep, then slipped out of the room.