“A failing of his, I assure you.” There was a dry humor at the bottom of those words. “He could not have come by this cloth on short notice.”
“It was very short notice,” she replied. The brown silk was dark enough it was striking, not drab. “I assumed it the work of an afternoon—less, in fact. I think he was out of the office for under an hour.”
“And the accident in the Merchant Authority?”
“I did, indeed, spill tea all over my lap, during a significant appointment with a merchant of some import. It was embarrassing.”
“Was it deliberate?”
She exhaled. “No. Had I realized that some part of our regular tea was poisoned, I would have taken care to ensure that the cup in my hand did not shatter.” Sliding her hands behind her back she turned to face him. “Is the cloth proof against stains?”
“It is. It is proof against water, alcohol, and simple dirt. It is not for that reason that it is prized, of course; that is merely a beneficial side effect. The cloth cannot be worked with normal thread, normal needles; it cannot be cut with normal shears or scissors.”
“Can it be cut at all?”
“Yes.”
Finch bent, picked up a small pair of scissors, and drew the lower blade swiftly across the brown fabric. It failed to mark the cloth at all. Frowning, she removed the small knife she habitually wore secreted in her skirts; she knew the knife was sharp. Haval said nothing as she attempted to slice through the cloth. She failed.
“Does it prevent stabbing?”
“No. The cloth will not tear, but the blunt damage will occur regardless.”
“Does it provide protection against magic?”
“It does. It does not provide any protection against poison. But it is armor, of a kind, against specific types of attacks. It will not preserve your life for long if you are isolated and you face an expert foe—but many assassinations are achieved in seconds. Jewel is The Terafin, and she does not own one such dress.”
“She’s—”
“Nor did the previous Terafin.”
“Can you be certain of that?”
“Yes.”
“Just how expensive is this cloth?”
“It is all but priceless,” Haval replied. “But, as I have said, having the cloth will not guarantee its use. It would not surprise me if these bolts are quite old.”
They did not look particularly old to Finch; if they were, they’d been stored in reasonable environs, not damp ones. She shook her head. Given the properties Haval attributed to this silk, it probably wouldn’t matter.
“You needn’t waste them on me,” she told him politely. “I have survived my years in Terafin—and a few tense years before them—in cloth meant for the merely mortal. Yesterday, I managed to stain my skirts; I took no other lasting or significant damage.”
He did not relax. He watched.
“Haval, if you are concerned about my welfare—”
“I was not, before these arrived. I am now concerned in a multitude of ways. Had Jarven chosen to back Jewel ATerafin’s bid in its entirety—and from the start—I would not have been as surprised to see them. He is prone to extravagant gesture when the mood strikes him. But he did not. Jewel was acclaimed Terafin. You have served her for your entire tenure as ATerafin, and I did not imagine that you would make any move—political or otherwise—against her.”
Finch’s brows rose as the words—and the implication—became clear. Her left hand curled in a fist; the right still held the knife that she had drawn to attempt to cut cloth. She left it by her side, although it was shaking. “If you imagine that I am doing so now,” she finally said, “you do not understand what I want for either The Terafin or her House.” She spoke with a quiet, searing dignity.
He watched for a full minute, during which she met and held his gaze. “I believe,” he said, voice soft, “that I will have to speak with Jarven after all. If you do not mind arriving at the Merchant Authority on the late side, I will join you there. I have some tools to retrieve from my sadly neglected storefront.” He tendered her a brief bow.
Finch, still angry, did not offer a similar courtesy in response.
“I meant no disrespect,” he said, as he rose.
“I fail to see how you could mean anything else.”
“Then you are still far too naive to be put into play in this unexpected fashion.”
* * *
Finch arrived at the Merchant Authority on time and unescorted. Lucille was behind her desk as Finch opened the