The Traitor Queen (The Traitor Spy Trilogy #3)(39)
Jonna looked thoughtful. “I see. I guessed that she’d been travelling that way to visit you for a while already. Is it safe?”
“We’ve been making it safer,” Lilia assured her.
“So … why is she there?”
Lilia shook her head. “It wasn’t safe in the city. Skellin’s people nearly killed Cery—”
“You mean Cery is down there as well?”
Jonna’s eyes narrowed. Lilia sighed and nodded.
“How many people are down there?”
“Just them.”
The servant looked relieved. I expect she was imagining what the Guild would think of a Thief setting up his business down there, Lilia thought, with numerous criminals coming and going all the time.
Jonna gestured to the corridor. “So why come here?”
“We opened one of the old entrances.”
Jonna frowned and shook her head. “Now, that’s too dangerous,” she decided. “And I don’t mean being below, I mean up here. Someone will see you. You must only use the passage in Sonea’s rooms.”
Lilia smiled, relieved that she had been right to trust Jonna. “Haven’t you noticed how scuffed and dirty my robes have been lately.”
“I haven’t failed to note their condition.” Jonna lifted her chin and gave Lilia a haughty look. “We shall have to do something about that. Like get you alternative clothing, for instance. In the meantime,” she reached down and opened Lilia’s bag. “I’m taking the bottle and you are going straight to class. Tonight we will discuss more effective strategies for dealing with our guests.”
Hefting the bottle of lamp oil, she gave Lilia a stern look, then turned and strode back down the corridor. A faint whiff of her perfume lingered, something Lilia hadn’t noticed about her before.
Closing her bag, Lilia shook her head. I had no choice but to tell her, she reasoned. And she’s not going to tell anyone. In fact, having her know everything could be useful. Then she sighed. In the meantime, I hope Cery, Gol and Anyi don’t end up sitting in the dark.
Dannyl dipped his pen into the ink pot then continued writing, but the nib soon began to scratch the paper ineffectually. He dipped the pen once more, then sighed as he saw that the reservoir was nearly empty. Run out again, he thought. Straightening, he groaned as his back protested. How long have I been working at this?
A day after Lorkin had been imprisoned, Dannyl had brought all of his research notes together and begun transcribing everything into a large notebook. His discussion with Tayend on the possible intentions of the Traitors had led to him worrying that, if the more dramatic situations they’d considered should eventuate, he might not get the chance to write down everything in a form others could comprehend. He had plenty of time to fill, and he was not making any progress in his research anyway, so he was writing sections of text and noting where they were to be slotted into his history of magic.
The work had proven to be a calming, welcome distraction. It reassured him that he had made some important discoveries about the history of magic, and hadn’t wasted his time in Sachaka. He would make substantial additions to his history of magic once he returned to Kyralia. If I live to finish it. He shook his head. No, don’t be silly. Tayend agreed that the worse scenarios we imagined are the least likely to come about.
Even so, he’d decided to make an extra copy to be stored in a safe place somewhere outside the Guild House, so that if this building was attacked his work wouldn’t be lost. Ideally, it should go to the Guild, but he couldn’t be sure it would arrive there. No doubt King Amakira had people in place to intercept and examine anything leaving and arriving at the Guild House.
In case his work was read by Sachakans, Dannyl had been careful to leave out any mention of gemstones with magical properties, apart from the famous Storestone that had created the wastelands. He’d had to come up with a way to hide references to them when writing out his notes on the Duna tribes’ legends, so that he wouldn’t be betraying the Duna’s trust if someone happened upon the copy. The stones were now people – powerful magicians referred to by their title. Dannyl would have to change all mentions of these fictional characters back to gemstones when he came to write his book.
After making his first coded version of his notes, he’d destroyed his original notebook. If I die and somebody finds the new version, I’m going to be the perpetrator of some very big lies in our history. After all the effort he’d put into digging up the truth about some of Kyralia’s hidden past, it would be a sad irony.
Now he was near to finishing the copy – well, he had been until he’d run out of ink. A movement in the doorway drew his attention away, and he looked up to see Kai throw himself on the floor.
“Ashaki Achati has arrived, master.”
Dannyl cursed silently at the conflicting eagerness and dread the news stirred. He pushed himself to his feet. Is Achati angry at me for breaking my promise to tell him of anything that might threaten Sachaka? Will I be able to forgive him for condoning the king’s imprisonment of Lorkin? Is any chance of us becoming lovers gone?
The slave scampered out of the room as Dannyl took the first step toward the door. Taking a deep breath, Dannyl walked down the corridor and found Achati waiting in the Master’s Room, looking dignified in a black version of the typical Ashaki trousers and short jacket.