with them is concluded, I shall be on my way. I have no desire to remain in Tyr any longer than is necessary.”
“The best place for you to make contact with the Veiled Alliance is right here in the elven market,” Krysta replied. “I can help you to the point of making some discreet inquiries, but beyond that, you will be on your own. I do not wish to involve myself. As for the duration of your stay, that is entirely up to you. However, for as long as you remain here, why not take advantage of a situation that can serve both our interests? So, what is your answer?”
“I accept,” said Sorak.
“Good. I shall have a room prepared for you, and I will summon my half-giants to carry your pet there. It will sleep until at least tomorrow morning, I should think. However, you will find that keeping a wild beast in the city will present certain difficulties. Can you control it to the extent that it does not damage the premises or attack any of my staff?”
“I will make sure of that,” said Sorak.
“You are certain?”
“Absolutely.”
“It is not merely a matter of the tigone being psionic and obeying because it has a bond with you, is it?” Krysta said, watching him with interest. “You possess the power to communicate with beasts.”
“Yes.”
“You can make them do your will?”
“Most of them,” said Sorak.
“Fascinating,” Krysta said. “Then that makes for at least three psionic powers you possess,” she said. “How many others?”
Sorak did not reply.
Krysta stared at him for a long moment, then nodded and said, “Very well, I shall not pry. I will have your room prepared for you. In the meantime, perhaps you would care to join me at my table for some supper?”
The dining room of the Crystal Spider was on the first floor, through an archway and down a corridor near the back of the main room. A thick brick wall separated it from the gaming hall and kept out most of the noise. What faint sounds might have managed to filter through were masked by the musicians, who played softly on ryl pipes while the patrons ate. The tables and chairs were made of polished, dark agafari wood, and the floor was hand-laid ceramic tile. Heavy support columns held up the beamed and plastered ceiling, and there were numerous small, arched niches in the walls for candles. The atmosphere in the dining room was subdued and refined, for only the wealthiest of patrons could afford its prices.
Even though it was quite late, the dining room was full. Outside, merely a stone’s throw away, beggars huddled in the street, pulling their filthy cloaks around them against the night chill, or burrowing in the refuse in an effort to keep warm and find some scraps to eat. Here, behind a stout wall, the wealthy citizens of Tyr supped on the finest cuisine between rounds of gaming, in which they casually wagered sums that would have kept those poor beggars fed for months.
Krysta’s private table was located in a secluded alcove that lay up a short flight of steps and through an archway with a beaded curtain. Sorak noticed that all the serving women were young and uniformly lovely. Krysta apparently had no concerns about suffering in comparison with any of them. Every head turned when she walked into the room on Sorak’s arm and led him to her private alcove.
“What may I tempt you with?” she asked him when they sat down. “My cooks are the finest in the city. I can recommend the braised z’tal with wine sauce, or baked cloud ray with spiced erdland eggs in jelly. If you would care for something simpler, we have the finest mekillot steaks in all of Tyr.”
“Could I have some vegetables?”
“Vegetables?” said Krysta, her eyes widening with surprise.
I do not eat meat,” Sorak replied.
“The mekillot steak sounds tempting,” said Kivara, and her hunger for meat activated Sorak’s salivary glands.
“I have never tasted cloud ray,” Eyron added, filling Sorak with curiosity about the experience. Sorak resolutely ignored them. “How can you not eat meat?” asked Krysta with astonishment. “Both elves and halflings are hunters who eat flesh.”
“It is simply my choice,” said Sorak, trying not to think about the carnivorous members of the tribe, who preferred their meat raw and freshly killed, with the blood still warm. “I was raised in the ways of the villichi, who are vegetarian.”
Krysta sighed. “I stock my larder with the finest meats and delicacies