said the lamp merchant, waving his hands. “You should educate him, mistress. Your Kyracian friend is ignorant.”
“Well, I do try,” said Caina. Her tone was light and airy. She stepped forward, and then to Kylon’s astonishment, she leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. “Come along, yes? Let us go for a walk.”
She threaded her left arm through his right and guided him into the press of the Bazaar. Physical contact meant he sensed her emotions with more clarity, and he felt the cold ice behind her smiling, cheerful façade, felt the deep rage that had hardened into something stern and terrible within her heart.
Yet, nonetheless, she was glad to see him.
And there was something else, something…
He blinked.
Embarrassment?
“What,” he said at last, “does the word ‘kizalkadan’ mean?”
“Ah.” She looked down and smiled. “It is a slang term in Istarish. Roughly translated, it means…unmarried female lover.”
“I see,” said Kylon. “I apologize.”
“Whatever for?” said Caina. “It is a perfect disguise. We are just another couple talking a walk. No one would take a second look at us.”
“Yes,” said Kylon. Now it was his turn to feel embarrassment.
Unmarried female lover…
Gods of storm and brine, what was wrong with him? Thalastre had barely been in her grave for two years. This was Caina Amalas. She was a Ghost circlemaster, the Balarigar, the bane of sorcerers and slavers. Not the sort of woman one took as a lover.
Kylon wasn’t sure what to do.
Andromache had sent him slave women on a regular basis, arguing that a stormdancer and a noble of New Kyre had the right of comfort. After she had been killed, he had stopped. While he could not deny that he had enjoyed it, the experience had left him feeling cold and empty. Then he had married Thalastre, and had never thought to take another woman into his bed for as long as he lived.
And now…
He was acutely aware of the feel of Caina’s arm, firm and warm, against his own.
And what should he do now?
“You should have some breakfast,” said Kylon, handing her one of the skewers. “You always forget to eat.”
Caina raised an eyebrow. “Do I?”
“I’ve spent the last four months chasing shadows with you,” said Kylon. “You forget to eat. It has…it has…”
She waited, her expression unchanging.
Kylon sighed. “Do you mind if we speak Kyracian?”
Caina laughed. That wasn’t fake. He felt the amusement, utterly devoid of malice, flash through her sense. “Of course not.” She switched to fluent Kyracian without missing a beat. “I should keep in practice. There is not much opportunity to use Kyracian here. Though you should still practice your Istarish.”
“Very well,” said Kylon. “But only if you eat breakfast.”
“Fair enough,” said Caina with another laugh. She took a bite off the skewer. “You haggle like a Kyracian merchant, though.”
“I am Kyracian,” said Kylon. “It is in my blood.”
“I cannot argue with that,” said Caina, taking another bite. She chewed and swallowed, her emotional sense changing. “Did you get the gold to Dio?”
“I did,” said Kylon. “He and the Black Wolves were quite amenable to the contract. Evidently the Umbarian Order has made the eastern Empire inhospitable, so they came here in search of richer waters. He will await us with Shopur’s company tomorrow at the Bazaar of the Southern Road.”
“Good,” said Caina. “Thank you. He never saw me without a mask, but he’s not stupid, and if he realizes who I am, he will not hesitate to turn me over to the Grand Wazir for the bounty.”
“This Dio seems an extremely ruthless man,” said Kylon. “I would not trust him.”
“I won’t,” said Caina, “but he is a man of his word.”
“How did you even meet him?” said Kylon. They walked through the crowds, drawing near to a white-plastered coffee house three stories tall. The Sanctuary of the Ghosts was hidden behind it, where he had slept and recovered from his wounds the first night after he had met Caina in Istarinmul.
“Oh, it was years ago,” she said, her eyes growing distant with memory. “In Rasadda, in the Saddaic provinces. He’d been hired to kill me, but I killed the magus who hired him, and he worked for me instead.”
“Something of a dubious way to meet a man,” said Kylon.
“I don’t know,” said Caina, and she grinned at him. “I met you the same way, didn’t I?”
He laughed, surprised. “You did your best to kill me, too.” He had never thought he could laugh about anything that had happened at Marsis. Yet now here he was walking