Sonea smiled. “Can’t have the Guild getting any poorer.”

Regin chuckled. “If the reactions of my magician friends with dubious connections are anything to go by, no foreign magician would gain permission to trade for long.”

“Do they know where this foreign magician is?”

He shook his head. “I could set them digging for information, if you think it won’t clash with Cery’s plans.”

She sipped her cup of sumi and considered, then nodded. “I’ll ask him. In the meantime it won’t hurt if they keep their ears open and pass anything on to you.”

Regin grimaced and set down his empty cup. “It’ll only hurt my sense of good taste. They’re hardly the sort of company I like to keep. Their idea of entertainment is…” His nose wrinkled. “Crude.”

Sonea kept her expression neutral. Regin had always been a snob. But then, there were plenty of magicians from the Houses, and not just the lower classes, whose liking for intoxication, whores and gambling were well known and disapproved of. Like some of Lorkin’s friends, it seems, she thought, remembering the young magicians found in a playhouse. Maybe Lorkin is better off away from Imardin.

Then the whole painful truth about his adventures in Sachaka flooded back, and she winced. Rising, she moved the sumi utensils and empty cups back to the side table.

“Hopefully Cery will find her soon, and you won’t have to deal with them,” she said. Turning back to Regin, she was relieved to see he’d taken the hint and risen to his feet. “Thank you for coming by.”

He inclined his head. “Thank you for hearing me out. I’ll let you know as soon as I have any further information.” He turned to the door and, as she opened it with magic, walked out.

She closed the door, leaned on the back of a chair and sighed. A few minutes’ distraction, at least. Is it too soon to go to the hospice? She looked at the mechanical timepiece that Rothen had given her last year. Yes.

Sighing again, she went back to pacing the room and worrying about her son.

After one night at the old Ashaki’s home, Achati and Dannyl had travelled north-west for half of a day, then stopped at the estate of Achati’s cousin, Ashaki Tanucha. Though not much younger than the previous host, Tanucha was clearly a far wealthier and more sociable man. His much younger wife, in her middle years, only appeared at dinner and was otherwise busy looking after their seven children, including five boys.

“Seven! I know it’s more a city man’s viewpoint, but it seems a touch irresponsible,” Achati said to Dannyl quietly when they retired to the guest rooms after dinner. “Only one can inherit. He must find occupation for the rest. The daughters will be married as best can be arranged, of course. But the sons…” He sighed. “Landless and dependent on their brother, as will be their sons – if they can attract wives at all.” He shook his head. “This is how Ichani come to be.”

“They rebel against their brothers?”

“Against the whole country. It is better that younger sons are not trained in magic, but it is rare for a parent who loves his child to withhold that knowledge, since it means the younger son will have such low status.”

“Younger sons are more likely to become magicians in Kyralia,” Dannyl told him. “Magicians are not supposed to involve themselves in politics, and it’s considered better if the son destined to become the head of the family is the one with political influence.”

Achati nodded thoughtfully. “I think I like your way better. It gives power to both older and younger sons.”

They spent the next day riding around Tanucha’s estate, and the evening in eating and talking. Afterwards Achati and Dannyl chatted late into the night. The next day they slept late, then explored Tanucha’s library, which was disappointingly small and neglected. Though the rest was welcome, Dannyl could not relax. When they retired to the guest rooms for the second night he asked Achati when they would be moving on.

“That depends on the Traitors, doesn’t it?” Achati replied as he reclined on the pillows in the central room.

“Surely we’re not going to wait around for them to deliver Lorkin and Tyvara to us?” Dannyl said, sitting down on one of the stools. He could not get used to lying about on the floor as the Sachakans did.

“Why not? If we keep moving they may not know where to find us. Or we may end up travelling in the wrong direction – away from those who are bringing them to us.”

Dannyl frowned. “I’m not sure why, but I can’t picture these Traitors turning up at the front gate of Tanucha’s estate with Lorkin and Tyvara in chains. They wouldn’t reveal themselves like that.”

“Then how do you think they’ll do it?”

Dannyl considered. “If I were them… I’d lead us to Lorkin and Tyvara. I’d leave us clues or directions – as they have already – so that we will eventually cross paths with the pair.”

“Have they left us any clues or directions lately?”

“No,” Dannyl admitted. “But they haven’t told us to stay put, either.”

Achati laughed. “I am growing very fond of you, Ambassador Dannyl. You have a unique mind.” He turned to one of his slaves, a handsome young man who attended to most of his needs, while the other slave’s role appeared to be to do heavy work and drive the carriage. “Get us some more water, Varn.” The slave picked up a pitcher and hurried away.

“Of course, telling us that they want us to find Lorkin could still be a decoy,” Dannyl said.

“So if it was, then where would we go next?”

Dannyl shook his head and sighed. “I don’t know. If the Traitors did want the girl and Lorkin to evade us, where would they take them?”

“To their mountain home.”

“And which direction has the pair been heading?”

“The mountains.”

“Presumably they are ahead of us.” Dannyl looked up at Achati. “That is the direction I would go.”

Achati nodded, then raised an eyebrow in warning. “We don’t know where their home is,” he reminded Dannyl. “Only that it is in the mountains.”

“I haven’t forgotten that. Have you ever used trackers?”

“Occasionally. When we had a confirmed Traitor to follow.”

“And it failed because?”

“The tracks always stop.” Achati shrugged. “The Traitors are not fools. They know how to erase signs of their passing. Which is not hard when your land is mostly bare rock and you can levitate.”

Dannyl frowned, then shook his head. “If the Traitors wanted us to stop and stay put, or change direction, they’d have let us know.”

“This whole journey and all the clues we’ve followed could have been a ruse,” Achati pointed out. “Designed to keep us busy and heading in the wrong direction.”

“Then it doesn’t matter if we keep going. They’ve already made fools of us. But if there’s a chance they haven’t, and we’re on the right track, then I’m willing to risk being made a slightly bigger fool by continuing toward the mountains. It’s worth it, for the chance we’ll find Lorkin.”

Achati regarded Dannyl thoughtfully, then nodded. The slave returned and handed him the pitcher. “Then we’ll leave. Will the morning be soon enough?” He refilled his goblet but paused to wait for Dannyl’s answer.

Dannyl looked at the man, noting signs of reluctance. I shouldn’t push him too far, he thought. He nodded. “Of course. But early in the morning would be best.”

Achati sighed, nodded, then drained his goblet. “I’ll send a slave to inform Tanucha we’ll be moving on, and request some supplies for the journey. There are fewer estates out by the mountains, and they don’t tend to be that prosperous. We’ll also need some magical support. I’ll contact the king and ask him to send some locals to help us.” With a grunt, he rose to his feet. “Don’t wait for me. Go to bed. This could take some time.”

Magical support. Contacting the king. Dannyl felt a twinge of apprehension. He really does think these Traitors are dangerous.