Ardan’s tower, most of the locals had gone, but the traders seemed to be waiting for something. Moon hoped it was for Ardan to make an appearance.
Finally, the doors at the top of the stairs opened and a group of groundlings came out. Some were guards, some obviously servants, and one, a short blue-pearl man dressed in rich gold and green robes, was obviously the leader. That has to be Ardan. Moon followed the other traders over, trying not to show the tension that was making his teeth ache. This was the one thing he was most worried about; if Ardan was very powerful, he might be able to tell Moon was a shifter just by looking at him. As an ivory-inlaid folding table and a chair were whisked into place for the leader, one of the servant groundlings announced, “This is the Superior Bialin. He speaks for Magister Ardan.”
Of course he is, Moon thought sourly, disappointed. Ardan couldn’t come down here, where the big doors downstairs were still open and Moon could leap the gallery and have a straight path outside if anything went wrong.
There were several traders here to offer objects and information, and Moon let them go first so he could watch what happened. It was a simple procedure: the traders each presented their objects to Bialin, who examined them, and then told the trader it was garbage and to go away. Moon wasn’t close enough to get a good look at the objects, but from what he overheard, most were either jewelry pieces or small carvings from distant groundling cities—the kind of things that would have pleased Delin, but that were far too prosaic for Ardan’s taste.
Two traders had a small chest, which they opened to reveal the preserved body of a little creature. Moon stood on tiptoes to catch a glimpse and thought it looked like a treeling sewn onto a lizard.
Bialin gazed at them tiredly. “This is a treeling sewn onto a lizard. Get out.”
Finally it was Moon’s turn. He stepped up to the table and Bialin said skeptically, “And what have you got to offer?”
Watching the others fail had made Moon more confident. “I can tell the Magister where he can find more Raksuran treasure.”
“Raksuran? What is—” Bialin’s gaze sharpened and suddenly Moon had all his attention. He leaned back in his chair, trying to look uninterested. “What is that?”
Bialin had already lost the chance to play coy. His first reaction had been telling. Moon said, “They live in the forest Reaches on the eastern coast. He already has that wooden pot with the onyx lid. It’s a Raksuran queen’s funerary urn.”
Bialin leaned forward, giving up his skeptical pose. “How do you know this?”
“I’ve been to the forest.”
“Can you prove it?”
Moon unbuckled his belt, and laid it and the sheathed knife on the table.
Bialin leaned over it, frowning. Then he snapped his fingers at his subordinate. The man handed him a heavy glass lens, and Bialin held it to his eye to study the leather more closely. He traced the pattern of lines, then drew the knife partway and fingered the carving on the hilt. Moon pulled his sleeve up and held his arm out, holding the red-gold consort’s wristband almost under Bialin’s nose. Bialin just blinked and switched his scrutiny to it.
Finally he sat up, lowering the lens. “Yes.” He nodded to himself and smiled faintly. “I think the Magister will be very interested.”
Moon followed Bialin and his attendants and guards up the short flight of stairs and through the double doors, into the private recesses of the tower. When the heavy doors closed behind him and the guards turned the lock, Moon took a deep breath. He was committed now.
They didn’t go far, down a high-ceilinged corridor and then into a large room. The decoration was all heavy, the alabaster carving full of staring faces, reflecting cold light from the vapor-lamps. The ceiling was just as heavily carved as the walls, with inset squares and circles, the edges made to look like bunched fabric. Moon scanned just enough to note there was nothing lurking in the corners, and focused on the man seated at the table in the center.
Like Bialin, Ardan was one of the blue-skinned groundlings, but he was younger than Moon had expected. His features were even and handsome, and there were faint lines of concentration at the corners of his eyes. He wore a silky gray robe shot with silver, simple compared to how some of the other