All the Lands, that Lord Percival Robho of Valencia, his beloved cousin, has brought him a gift.”
A pause ensued, with some clustering and shifting among the guards on the deck of the boat that had hailed us. They’d drawn up closer to the Last Resort in the interim, flanking us. Vesno growled, and I tended to agree. “No one here has heard of you,” they finally shouted back.
“Ah, the fickle nature of fame,” Percy muttered, then lifted the horn again. “I assure you that my imperial cousin has heard of me and will want to see me—and the gift I’ve brought to honor him.” He gestured to me, as if he’d conjured me from thin air. “Behold: His Imperial Majesty’s enemy, the Slave King. He’s brought something very special with him in homage, a tribute to His Imperial Majesty. Let’s call it a unique and sweetly scented piece of jewelry. He’ll know.”
“Give them to us,” called the captain, close enough now that no amplification was necessary. “You can stay here and await His Imperial Majesty’s decision.”
Percy leaned his elbow on the rail, cupping his chin in one hand so he framed his face with his long nails. “Aren’t you adorable? But no. I’m not stupid. Escort us with an armed guard if you must, but I’ll negotiate with my cousin in person—or not at all.”
“Our armed guard will confiscate the prisoner and the box, and you can await His Imperial Majesty’s pleasure in a prison cell,” the captain replied without hesitation.
“One day something will happen that Lia didn’t accurately predict,” I grumbled, and Percy threw me a mirthless smile.
“Oh, Conrí, darling. You are an idealist. But Her Highness isn’t infallible, She is simply very good at predicting the toad. Let’s see if Her Highness was also correct that the wizards will be watching for this.” From his voluminous skirts, Percy produced a sparker, holding it up so the guards could clearly see it. “I believe this gift is of considerable interest to His Imperial Majesty. This bag contains vurgsten sufficient to incinerate the Abiding Ring, and I can light the fuse in a moment. One wrong move and I’ll do it.”
More discussion, and I watched them keenly. “You’d kill yourself, too,” the captain pointed out.
Percy smiled thinly. “Possibly, but I have little left to lose. Regardless, it would kill the Slave King, and destroy the ring. I’m certain His Imperial Majesty would be most unhappy to have lost out on both prizes, and only because his guards were too stupid to know better. As I recall, my imperial cousin is not tolerant of incompetence in his service. I wonder what he would do to you?”
A younger soldier ran up and spoke to the captain with every appearance of conveying an urgent message. The man nodded, eyeing us the whole time. “All right,” he called. “We’ll escort you in.”
“Delighted to accept the invitation,” Percy called back, then turned to me. “Another point for Her Highness.”
* * *
I learned what Ambrose and Merle thought I most needed to know, though I couldn’t practice the trick without revealing my newfound power to the other wizards. I was also frankly terrified to do it—and I’d try only if I had to. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that. Though I was quite sure it would.
I spent the rest of the night looking through Ibolya’s eyes. Using that familiar technique allowed me to rest what felt like entirely new muscles—which I would need in the morning once Con and Percy were on the move—and monitor how that team was progressing. If they needed help, I wanted to know immediately.
They sailed the fishing boat into the trade quadrant just after midnight. Ibolya, standing at the rail, a rough cloak covering her garb as a Yekpehr lady-in-waiting, was surprised to see that part of the harbor as busy as in broad daylight, and lit by lanterns and torches to be nearly that bright. Chains of laborers unloaded ships, passing barrels, crates, and other packages up to the township and the citadel, while horses and oxen pulling wagons laden with goods waited patiently to load the ships again.
Anure was doing a brisk business, which made me want to growl like Con would, over the exorbitant tithes the Imperial Toad had extracted from Calanthe. Never again.
“You sure you’re up for this?” Sondra asked, and I had to stifle the impulse to reply, taking a mental step back from Ibolya’s senses.
“Yes,” Ibolya replied firmly. “Stop asking me that.”
Sondra grinned at her,