shook his head.
'In any case, where now is your indignation, Kalam Mekhar? Coltaine of the Crow Clan. The Imperial Historian Duiker. The Seventh Army. And now, the Wickans of the Fourteenth. Fist Temul. Nil, Nether. Gall of the Khundryl Burned Tears, who threw back Korbolo Dom at Sanimon – cheating Korbolo's victory long before Aren. The betrayers are in the throne room—'
'I can make that stay shortlived.'
'You can. And if you so choose, the Adjunct and I will die possessing at least that measure of satisfaction. But in dying, so too will many, many others. More than any of us can comprehend.'
'You ask where is my indignation, but you have the answer before you. It lives. Within me. And it is ready to kill. Right now.'
'Killing Mallick Rel and Korbolo Dom this night,' T'amber said, 'will not save the Wickans, nor the Khundryl. Will not prevent war with the Perish. Or the destruction of the Wickan Plains. The Empress is indeed desperate, so desperate that she will sacrifice her Adjunct in exchange for the slaying of the two betrayers in her midst. But tell me, do you not think Mallick Rel understood the essence of Laseen's offer to you?'
'Is that your question?'
'Yes.'
'Korbolo Dom is a fool. Likely he comprehends nothing. The Jhistal priest is, unfortunately, not a fool. So, he is prepared.' Kalam fell silent, although his thoughts continued, following countless tracks. Potentials, possibilities. 'He may not know I possess an otataral weapon—'
'The power he can draw upon is Elder,' T'amber said.
'So, after all we've said here, I may fail.'
'You may.'
'And if I do, then we all lose.'
'Yes.'
Kalam opened his eyes, and found that the Adjunct had turned away. T'amber alone faced him, her gold-hued eyes unwavering in their uncanny regard.
Six hundred. 'Tell me this, T'amber: between you and the Adjunct, whose life matters more?'
The reply was immediate. 'The Adjunct's.'
It seemed that Tavore flinched then, but would not face them.
'And,' Kalam asked, 'between you and me?'
'Yours.'
Ah. 'Adjunct. Choose, if you will, between yourself and the Fourteenth.'
'What is the purpose of all this?' Tavore demanded, her voice ragged.
'Choose.'
'Fist Keneb has his orders,' she said.
Kalam slowly closed his eyes once more. Somewhere, at the back of his mind, a faint, ever faint sound. Music. Filled with sorrow. 'Warrens in the city,' he said in a soft voice. 'Many, seething with power – Quick Ben will be hardpressed even if I can get through to him, and there's no chance of using gates. Adjunct, you will need your sword. Otataral out front ... and to the rear.'
Strange music, the tune unfamiliar and yet ... he knew it.
Kalam opened his eyes, even as the Adjunct slowly turned.
The pain in her gaze was like a blow against his heart.
'Thank you,' she said.
The assassin drew a deep breath, then rolled his shoulders. 'All right, no point in keeping them waiting.'
Pearl stepped into the chamber. Mallick Rel was pacing, and Korbolo Dom had uncorked a bottle of wine and was pouring himself a goblet. The Empress remained in her chair.
She wasted no time on small talk. "The three are nearing the Gate.'
'I see. So, Kalam Mekhar made his choice, then.'
A flicker of something like disappointment. 'Yes, he is out of your way now, Pearl.'
You bitch. Offered him the Claw, did you? And where would that have left me? 'He and I have unfinished business, Empress.'
'Do not let that interfere with what must be done. Kalam is the least relevant target, do you understand me? Get him out of the way, of course, but then complete what is commanded of you.'
'Of course, Empress.'
'When you return,' Laseen said, with a small smile on her plain features, 'I have a surprise for you. A pleasant one.'
'I doubt I shall be gone long—'
'It is that overconfidence that I find most irritating in you, Pearl.'
'Empress, he is one man!'
'Do you imagine the Adjunct helpless? She wields an otataral sword, Pearl – the sorcery by which the Claw conduct their ambushes will not work. This will be brutal. Furthermore, there is T'amber, and she remains – to all of us – a mystery. I do not want you to return to me at dawn to inform me that success has left two hundred dead Claws in the streets and alleys below.'
Pearl bowed.
'Go, then.'
Mallick Rel turned at that moment, 'Clawmaster,' he said, 'when the task is done, be sure to dispatch two Hands to the ship, Froth Wolf, with instructions to kill Nil and Nether. If opportunity arrives thereafter, they are to kill Fist