Page 151 of The Cradle of Ice

Althea frowned, her eyes narrowing warily. “You mean to strike for the emperor.”

Llyra shrugged. “I suspect some of our aims have crossed purposes, but yes, ultimately, we mean to raid the Augury’s palacio and secure the premises. At least for as long as possible. Hopefully, long enough to satisfy both of our goals.”

“And what about those crossed purposes?” Tazar asked.

Another shrug answered him. “Best we accomplish one goal before worrying about the next.”

Althea scowled at the trio and glared at the young Rhysian at Tazar’s side. “I hardly think you have the numbers to help us.”

“I’ll let you be the judge.” Llyra stepped forward, her palms up. She headed to the window. “Not all armies wear armor or stripe their faces with white paint.”

Tazar joined her at the window. He stared out at the crowded street, which looked the same, only more settled after the passage of the prisoner convoy. Hawkers yelled. Seers begged. People milled about between the two.

Llyra waved below. “I’ve been rousing an army more skillful than most. From whorehouses, smoky taverns, dark dens, and thieveries of every ilk. We are everywhere and nowhere. Even here in Qazen. I rallied them days ago when I knew our paths would cross here. Just in case.”

Tazar frowned, staring below. “What army?”

Answering his question, responding to some hidden signal, half the churning crowd stopped all at once. Hundreds of faces turned and stared up at the window.

“That’s only a fraction of ’em,” Llyra commented.

Behind Tazar’s shoulder, Althea whistled softly, appreciatively.

On the street, moving again in unison, the faces dropped, and the figures folded back into the crowd, vanishing away.

Tazar glanced at Althea, lifting a brow. “Well?”

“Maybe we don’t need to return to Kysalimri quite so soon,” she answered.

Tazar held a hand toward Llyra. “Done.”

She shook on their pact, her palm dry and firm. “Best we hurry before more of the imperium crashes down upon this town.”

Tazar nodded, agreeing at the need for haste. Still, a worry gnawed at him, centered on two words.

Crossed purposes.

60

KANTHE HOBBLED UNDER the cold gaze of a giant glass swordsman who protected the grounds of the Augury’s palacio. There was no sneaking past this sentinel. The prisoners clanked and rattled their way along. The heavy iron chains cut into Kanthe’s wrists and ankles. He reminded himself never to complain about the thin silvery links that joined the imri to their chaaen-bound.

As they crossed through a garden, escorted by a cordon of guardsmen, Kanthe appreciated the cool breezes off the sea. The winds swept up the bluff in fierce gusts but were tamed by the surrounding walls. The scent of lilywraiths and poppies carried to him. Fountains burbled and gold-scaled karp flashed through still ponds. He would’ve liked to tarry longer, to spend a leisurely day within this lush oasis, but that was not to be.

He and the others were marched quickly, and if they slowed, the poke of a spear encouraged them to move faster. Jester bore the worst of those assaults, doing his best to hop along on his good leg, leaning on his brother for support.

They reached the Augury’s main villa. It rose three times the height of any of the other structures and wings. The sun glared from the salt crystals of its upper levels and blinded off the white slate roof. Its tall double doors, gilded in gold, stood open to the gardens. Soft music lilted gently out to them, the harmony promising tranquility and peace, replete with the promise of the wisdom of the gods.

It all fell on Kanthe’s deaf ears.

Beyond the threshold, marble floors stretched across a vast atrium. Even here, orchids draped from the ceiling in long falls of bright blossoms, as if the gardens had swept inside on petaled wings. Lanterns shone in a thousand colors, casting their glows through tinted glass. Golden urns burbled with more fountains.

Kanthe searched around.

If I were a god, I would happily make this my home.

Jester made a drier assessment. “Plainly, soothsaying sucks a lot of coin out of purses.”

This earned the man another poke of a spear.