virtually anything, or so he suspected. Evading responsibility was a proclivity of the human species, it seemed.
There would be vast senseless celebration, in any case. Of something, perhaps nothing, and certainly involving everything. Frenzied wagers at the Special Drownings, in which the most notorious criminals would try to swim like swans. People who liked to be seen would make a point of being seen. Spectacle was an investment in worthy indolence, and indolence bespoke wealth. And meanwhile, housebound guards in empty estates would mutter and doze at their posts.
A scuffing sound from the gloom to his right. Tehol glanced over. 'You're early.'
Shurq Elalle stepped closer. 'You said midnight.'
'Which is at least two bells from now.'
'Is it? Oh.'
Tehol sat up. 'Well, you're here. No point in sending you away. Even so, we're not to visit Selush until a chime past midnight.'
'We could go early.'
'We could, although I'd rather not alarm her. She indicated she'd need lots of supplies, after all.'
'What makes me worse than any other corpse?'
'Other corpses don't fight back, for one thing.'
The undead woman came closer. 'Why would I feel compelled to resist? Is she not simply making me pretty?'
'Of course. I was just making conversation. And how have you been, Shurq Elalle?'
'The same.'
'The same. Which is?'
'I've been better. Still, many would call consistency a virtue. Those are extraordinary trousers.'
'I agree. Not to everyone's taste, alas—'
'I have no taste.'
'Ah. And is that a consequence of being dead, or a more generic self-admission?'
The flat, lifeless eyes, which had until now been evading direct contact, fixed on Tehol. 'I was thinking ... the night of Errant's Festival.'
Tehol smiled. 'You anticipate me, Shurq.'
'There are sixteen guards on duty at all times, with an additional eight sleeping or gambling in the barracks, which is attached to the estate's main house via a single covered walkway that is nineteen strides in length. All outer doors are double-barred. There are four guards stationed in cubbies at each corner of the roof, and wards skeined over every window. The estate walls are twice the height of a man.'
'Sounds formidable.'
Shurq Elalle's shrug elicited a wet-leather sound, though whether from her clothes or from somewhere else could not be determined.
Bugg reappeared, climbing one-handed, the other balancing a tray made from a crate lid. Two clay cups were on the tray, their contents steaming. He slowly edged onto the roof, then, glancing up and seeing the two of them, he halted in consternation. 'My apologies. Shurq Elalle, greetings. Would you care for some tea?'
'Don't be absurd.'
'Ah, yes. Thoughtless of me. Your pardon.' Bugg walked over with the tray.
Tehol collected his cup and cautiously sniffed. Then he frowned at his manservant.
Who shrugged. 'We don't have no herbs, master. I had to improvise.'
'With what? Sheep hide?'
Bugg's brows rose. 'Very close indeed. I had some leftover wool.'
'The yellow or the grey?'
'The grey.'
'Well, that's all right, then.' He sipped. 'Smooth.'
'Yes, it would be.'
'We're not poisoning ourselves, are we?'
'Only mildly, master.'
'There are times,' Shurq Elalle said, 'when I regret being dead. This is not one of those times, however.'
The two men eyed her speculatively, sipping at their tea.
'Ideally,' she continued, 'I would now clear my throat to cover this moment of awkwardness. But I am incapable of feeling any more awkward than is my normal state. Secondly, clearing my throat has unpleasant consequences.'
'Ah, but Selush has devised a pump,' Tehol said. 'The operation will be, uh, not for the delicate. Even so, soon you shall exude the perfume of roses.'
'And how will she manage that?'
'With roses, I imagine.'
Shurq raised a thin brow. 'I am to be stuffed with dried flowers?'
'Well, not everywhere, of course.'
'A practical question, Tehol Beddict. How am I to be stealthy if I crackle with every step I take?'
'A good question. I suggest you bring that up with Selush.'
'Along with everything else, it would seem. Shall I resume my account of the potential victim's estate? I assume your manservant is trustworthy.'
'Exceptionally so,' Tehol replied. 'Please continue.'
'Finadd Gerun Eberict will be attending the Special Drownings, whereupon, at its conclusion, he will be a guest at an event hosted by Turudal Brizad—'
'The Queen's Consort?'
'Yes. I once robbed him.'
'Indeed! And what did you take?'
'His virginity. We were very young – well, he was, anyway. This was long before he danced at the palace and so earned the interest of the queen.'
'Now that's an interesting detail. Were you his true love, if I may ask such a personal question?'
'Turudal's only love is for himself. As I said, he was younger and I the older. Of