master’s heart had nearly given out a year ago, he hadn’t aged so much. He wants me to see this, to see what age has in store for him. Her smile ached as she held it in place.
“Have you by chance seen my wayward apprentice?” Vasilios asked Asheris.
The dark man cocked his head. “No, but I think I hear her now.”
Bare feet slapped the hall outside and an instant later a young woman appeared in the doorway, plump tea-brown cheeks flushed cinnabar. “Forgive me, master,” she gasped. “I didn’t mean to be gone so long.”
Vasilios waved a negligent hand. “I’d be more concerned if you suddenly became punctual. This is our guest, Lady Iskaldur. Isyllt, this is my apprentice, Zhirin Laii.”
“Roshani, Lady.” The girl bowed low, one narrow braid uncoiling from its twist to bounce over her shoulder.
“Have you had lunch, Isyllt?” Vasilios asked, fetching a cane from beside his chair.
“No,” she said, realizing that she’d forgotten breakfast as well.
“Come, let’s remedy that, shall we? Asheris, would you care to join us?” And he herded them out the door.
It was a pleasant meal, though the presence of Asheris and Vasilios’s wide-eyed apprentice left them unable to speak of Isyllt’s true reasons for visiting. Not that she would have felt comfortable discussing such things inside the walls of the Kurun Tam—stone had a long memory, and clever mages could convince it to repeat what it heard. So they ate and lingered over tea, and Isyllt answered questions about Erisín and Kiril and Selafaïn politics and arranged to visit Vasilios the next day at his house in the city, before letting Asheris escort her through the library and halls and gardens, where he flirted with great charm and little sincerity.
Wheels and hooves rattled into the courtyard as they returned to the fountain. Isyllt glanced through the doorway to see an ox-drawn cart rolling through the gates, flanked by a dozen soldiers in full Imperial livery.
Asheris excused himself and stepped into a pair of sandals before descending the steps to inspect the cart, counting crates and accepting a scroll case from an officer. The driver urged the oxen on, steering the cart to the back of the hall, while a man and woman not in uniform dismounted.
“Shipments from the mines,” Asheris said as he returned to Isyllt’s side. “We charge the stones here and ship them to Assar.” His mouth twisted. “Nowhere as interesting as the mountain, I’m afraid. Though of course I’m happy to have stayed behind, since it meant meeting you.”
She smiled at the graceful save, but her attention stayed on the cart as it clattered around the corner. Sapphires and rubies from Sivahri mines were one of the country’s greatest assets to the Empire. That cart alone must contain a fortune’s worth; after they were charged with energy, their value would more than double. Lesser stones couldn’t contain as much power without fracturing, and diamonds such as Isyllt’s—or the yellow stone around Asheris’s neck—were saved for binding ghosts and spirits.
“Are you going to introduce us, Asheris?” the woman called, tethering her horse. She crossed the courtyard, graceful and light on her feet. Young and very fair for an Assari, with striking kohl-rimmed blue eyes. She pulled aside her riding veil and dipped a shallow curtsy. “It’s not often we have visitors.” Her eyes widened briefly as she saw Isyllt’s ring; she didn’t offer her hand.
“Of course,” Asheris said, straightening his shoulders. “Lady Iskaldur, this is Jodiya al Sarith, one of our apprentices, and her master, Imran al Najid.” He gestured to the man who had joined them. “Lady Iskaldur has just arrived from Erisín, to study with Vasilios.”
Al Najid bowed, also not offering his hand. As he straightened, a stone gleamed at his neck—a diamond, also yellow-hued. The Kurun Tam didn’t lack for powerful magi. She wondered what unlucky spirits lay trapped at their throats.
“Roshani. I trust Asheris has made you welcome.” She guessed him near fifty, tall and lean. He should have been handsome, but all the lines carved on his long face were dour, and his greeting was more perfunctory than polite.
“I managed some degree of civility,” Asheris drawled.
“Indeed he did,” Isyllt said as Imran’s dark eyes narrowed. “The hall is quite impressive.”
“Shakera. Please excuse us, meliket, but we must see to the stones. Enjoy your visit.” With a nod, he turned and strode away, Jodiya at his heels.
Isyllt tried to school her face but couldn’t keep an inquisitive brow from rising. Asheris smiled faintly, but the corners