Teri McLaren

"By the grace of Nin, Riolla, you have escaped death at the hands of your own assassin. If Saelin had taken this head for you, he would be taking yours for me."

Stunned, Riolla put down her fan and strained to hear what he said next. "But… I could do worse than to let this particular digger lead you to his hoard, bring it to daylight, and then inform him of my prior claim on it."

The Raptor started pacing again. "Yes. You will follow him. He will probably go west, across the desert. Perhaps a good long journey is just what you need. You haven't been getting out much lately."

Riolla began to fan herself again, squirming in her fair, delicate skin at the thought of crossing the desert and sleeping on the ground… at having to speak with commoners all day long. The Raptor said nothing for several moments. Riolla felt perspiration trickle down her back, but her fan kept its steady beat, counting out the seconds. At last she answered.

"As you wish."

The Raptor moved on to another question. "Riolla, what do you know about Kalkuk?"

"Kalkuk?" She coughed, completely off her guard. "I have not seen him for a while…" If the Raptor knew she had killed the old shopkeeper, he would also want to know about how she had put him in the old crypt. The pearl…

"That is odd. He was found dead at the old city. Under very strange circumstances, from what my sources report. I wonder…" he breathed. Riolla did her best to control her fan, timing its languid sweeps to the same rhythm as before he asked his question. The Raptor said nothing.

"Perhaps the diggers did away with him themselves," she began. "Maybe he got in the way of their work, or tried to steal something they'd unearthed. That would make perfect sense. He was behind with his payment, which of course is why I myself am late," she improvised.

The Raptor laughed softly. "Or perhaps you have

found a way to make it seem so. If you are lying to me, Riolla…"

"Raptor, by the broken face of Caelus Nin and my most revered ancestors, I would be a fool to lie to you. I offer only a possible explanation for the untimely death of one of my best customers. I shall miss him sadly."

"You shall miss his regular payments sadly. And your revered ancestors are bought. But you will continue to pay Kalkuk's portion anyway, Riolla. Or I shall be forced to look further into his, as you say, untimely death."

Riolla knew when to be quiet. The Raptor paced the room for a while longer, then spoke again at last. "About this lucky young man. If he is who I think he is-if he is who I hope he is-I have waited a decade to find him again. I want him alive and unharmed. Follow him. As I said, he will go west. Discover his path before he takes it, so that you do not lose him again. Again I say to you, do not hurt him: do you understand? Your assassin was trained by Drufalden. He will have his pride to avenge. You must keep Saelin from that work. You are quite capable of your own work, I believe. If he is not left alive, how would the digger find the treasure for me, do you see?"

Long in the practice of reading this particular voice, Riolla noticed the Raptor's tone had softened, as though he felt he had told her a bit too much. She felt a little more confident. He was truly interested in the digger and his treasure. It made her want it even more.

"You have dealt with the peoples along the old route before," he continued. "Only do not forget that you are my agent abroad to all those whose boundaries you must pass. Take this with you. Give it to Drufalden for the surety of your army. I will collect it later myself."

An ancient coin with image of Caelus Nin on it, the eastern face on one side, the western on the other, chimed like a silver bell on the stones and rolled to Riolla's feet.

Teri McLaren

"I expect to see this again. I will send someone to rendezvous with you before you reach the Borderlands. Trouble me no more until you present me with the trove and the healthy person of this strange, elusive, young digger."

Riolla got up to leave the airless room, knowing she was dismissed, but not breathing much easier for it. Just before she cleared the threshold, the Raptor spoke again.

"Riolla."

"Yes, Raptor?"

"Pay your dues."

"Yes, I am angry. Cheyne, there is more at stake here than you know. If you were any younger, I would send you home. As it is, listen to the facts and act like the grown man you are. First of all, you told no one where you went today. Aside from the fact that we are now very shorthanded here, that put me into a bit of a stir until you returned safely. A body was found here! And we still don't know why, except that we could be right on top of the Collector's treasure. You go and disappear-what am I supposed to think? Aside from your little excursion, there is the matter of the rumbling in the ranks of the Fascini. The old king at least had a sort of tolerance for us. So long as we didn't bother him, he didn't care what we did with this forsaken sandhill. But Maceo is another matter. I expect King Thedeso won't be cold in the ground before his irritating son is carted out here to decree our immediate dismissal."

Cheyne started to say that he'd already met the heir to the crown, but had no chance. Javin continued almost without another breath.

"There could be a fight-I must refuse to leave. It's my last chance at the Collector. I need to know where you are at all times from now on." Javin dropped his head between his hands, elbows propped on his knees. "And I need to convince the Fascini to give us at least

one more season. It would help if there were money enough to buy Maceo off, I suspect. But until we find the Collector's treasure, all I can do is promise him his share of it. Things will depend on my powers of persuasion. Judging from the way those powers worked on you today, the dig is all but finished," he added miserably.

"Javin, I had to go. Because of the grown man I am," Cheyne began, certain that Javin hadn't sent anyone to the city to look for him because he probably hadn't been missed until the guard had seen him light the lamp in his tent. Javin had had too much else to think about. "You just don't understand. It's not about the treasure for me. It's about who I am. That's a question you never had to ask. You knew your parents, you knew your country, you knew your work. I don't even know what my face looks like, or what my full name is. Everywhere on this continent we have gone, people have a surname. Even the Sumifans who live in the Barca have that. There are too many mysteries for me. I won't always work on your digs, Javin. I want my own life. My own name. How can I have a future unless I have a past? I need to know where I fit."

Cheyne was about to pull the amulet from under his shirt and show favin the matching glyphs on the totem, but Javin whirled on him angrily, his patience worn away by the heat and the day's ugly discoveries.

"Cheyne! I gave you a direct order not to leave the site today. You disobeyed it. Why? Because you cannot see past your own small issues. If we-when we-find the Collector, I am sure that the answers to your questions will follow. But I need you to show some concern for something besides your own petty pains. Something far larger than your need for a name is at stake."

Cheyne's face began to bum with Javin's last words and he dropped the amulet back inside his shirt, a horrible new awareness dawning on him.