pastimes. They had talked about lovers, years ago. Ilse hoped Klara had found her artist, someone who loved beauty as much as she did.
The thought of Klara brought her other friend to mind, Kathe. Kathe who had tended her through sickness. Who taught her how to mince garlic, and stir a sauce to the smoothness of silk. Who stayed her friend even after she left the kitchens to become Berthold Hax’s assistant, then much later, Raul’s beloved.
I lied to her. I told her I left Raul because I wanted children. She thinks me selfish.
Or was it a lie?
Ilse folded the map together and set it aside. Walked over to her bookcase and knelt. Her limbs felt numb, her body removed at a distance, as she commanded her hands to seek out Lord Iani’s scroll and extract it from its hiding place. It unfurled at a touch, revealing a foot of thick dark parchment with the words of the spell written in old Erythandran. Ilse glanced over it. She had only to speak those words to take herself beyond Khandarr’s questions. They would save Raul Kosenmark and all his shadow court. She didn’t even need to provide a key for unlocking her memories.
The shutters beside the bookcase rattled. Pebbles and dirt flew through the slats and onto the floor. Then, she heard a hoarse shout. “Ilse!”
Galena?
Ilse swiftly coiled the parchment and tucked it behind her books. She rose cautiously and peered through the window slats. Moonlight splashed over the roof and the center part of the courtyard, but the perimeter lay in darkness. Then she sensed a movement by the far wall. Galena Alighero emerged from the shadows. She wore her uniform and armor, but no helmet. Moon and starshine silvered her brown hair. And she limped.
Ilse had not talked with Galena since the girl received her punishment. She knew Adler had transferred Galena to harbor duty at the dark watch, between three bells and dawn. What was she doing here, at this hour?
Galena glanced over one shoulder, bent, and gathered another handful of pebbles. This would not do. One of the house guards would hear the noise. Ilse opened the shutters. “Galena,” she whispered loudly. “What is it?”
Galena immediately let the pebbles fall. “Ilse. Can you come outside?”
“Why? And why aren’t you at the harbor?”
“Not time yet. Please, Ilse. It’s important.”
“Then come inside. We can talk—”
Galena shook her head. “No. Out here.”
A trap, Ilse thought.
She considered notifying the guards. Her instincts warned against that. It might be nothing more than Galena wanting reassurance.
“Go to the side door,” she said. “The one directly below. I’ll meet you there.”
She pulled on a robe and took up the candle from her desk. Its dish was deep enough to keep the wax from spilling over her hand, but she could only walk swiftly, not run as she wished, down the stairs. Luckily, no house guards or runners were about.
She opened the door. Galena stood a few feet away.
“Come outside.”
“Why? What did you do?”
“Nothing!”
A lie. Ilse was about to shut the door, when she sensed a change in the night air. A whiff of green. An impression of a furtive wild animal.
She threw the candle onto the stones and flung up both hands. “Ei rûf ane gôtter. Komen mir de strôm.”
Magic sparked against magic, an explosion of bright cold fire. Ilse staggered backward. A double signature washed over her. A hunting fox. A silver blaze far brighter than the cold fire she had summoned to protect herself. She whispered Erythandran through numb lips. Her tongue unlocked and she could speak the words to release the magic flooding her veins.
The fire faded, the current ebbed away. Ilse rubbed a hand over her eyes. The door into the courtyard swung on its hinges. It was silent in the pleasure house. No one had raised the alarm. Cautiously she approached the open door.
Outside, moonlight spilled over the paving stones. The heavy scent of magic hung in the air. Shards of broken pottery littered the ground, and a coil of smoke still rose from the candle wick drowning in a pool of wax. Off to one side, Galena crouched on hands and knees. Farther away, a figure lay at full length.
Ilse hurried past Galena and knelt by the body. The throat felt warm to her touch. The pulse beat steadily. And yes, here was the source of that first magical signature, the one that reminded her of a wild dog or a fox. Long loose hair covered the face.