Shatterglass - By Tamora Pierce Page 0,104

if they throw me out on my ear, I know the arurim will commission a batch of these. The army, too, might like them. Excuse me.” He looked around the group once more. “Yaskedasi, both sexes. A moment, if I may.” He gave the bubble and the stream-bank globe to Keth and went apart with the disguised yaskedasi.

Keth slid the bubble into his shirt pocket, then held up the globe. “Does anyone recognize this place?” he asked.

His arurimi companions shook their heads. “Problem is, there’s willows and shrines all along the streams,” explained a woman in uniform. She could well have been somebody’s sweet-faced old grandmother, but for her muscular arms and the baton, knife and thong restraints that hung from her broad leather belt. “Willows are the symbol of the yaskedasi. You know, they bend but they don’t break. When Khapik was rebuilt about five hundred years back, they dug the streams with all these nips and tucks so folk could have privacy for their entertainment.”

“And since it’s raining, it’s dark out anyways, so we can’t tell if this is day or night,” added one of the young arurimi. “Though the light’s greenish, so maybe it’s late day?”

“Near sunset,” another woman said. “We’ve an hour, maybe two, to get in place.”

The false yaskedasi streamed out of the room, on their way to their posts. When Dema came back to Keth’s group, they told him what they’d worked out from the scene in the globe.

“There’s one more thing,” Dema told them. He pointed to the globe. “Look at her. She’s alive. We’ve a chance to find her and set a trap around her before he even gets there.”

“All-Seeing, make it so,” murmured the grandmotherly arurim. The believers around her drew circles on their foreheads.

Keth stayed close to Dema as they entered Khapik, keeping a watchful eye on his surroundings. At first he saw very few human beings. The storm was at its height, its thunders bouncing through the streets. Lightning jumped overhead, lacing the sky. Keth wondered if Tris was on Ferouze’s roof right now, and wished he were there with her, gripped by lightning. Then movement and a flash of yellow caught his eye: he looked and saw one of the arurim dressed as a yaskedasu, sheltering in a doorway. She smiled wickedly and beckoned; Keth grinned and shook his head. As far as he was concerned they behaved like real yaskedasi.

Dema settled to wait at their command post, upstairs in the Winking Eye. Keth decided to go walking on his own. He was known here; he belonged. If the Ghost knew Khapik, the sight of Keth, who had lived there eight months, would raise no alarms in his mind.

Up and down the streams Keth rambled, hands in pockets. The rain thinned, and stopped. He heard the sound of a flute on the air, then a tambourine. Now business would pick up, though many customers would stay home rather than risk a second shower. Yaskedasi moved out into the open. Normally they were discouraged from using the neatly clipped stream banks for performances, but Khapik guards could be persuaded to look the other way for a coin or two, if the yaskedasi weren’t too noisy or didn’t get enough of an audience to trample the grass.

Here came the customers, pleasure-seekers from all over the known world. Some visitors left after seeing one red tunic too many. Keth grimaced. The fewer genuine tourists there were on the streets, the more likely it was that Dema’s people would stand out.

A light rain began to fall. Now Keth really searched the stream banks. He found what he sought on Little Rushing Brook, which ran beside Olive Lane. The yaskedasu was far downstream in the shadow of the city wall. She huddled under a willow on the opposite side of the brook from Keth, peering out at the rain.

Keth dared not leave: the Ghost might be here already, in the shadows. Slowly Keth reached into his shirt pocket and drew out one of his bubbles. He closed his eyes briefly, willing it to seek out anyone in a red tunic, then sent it flying on its way. The arurimi would be here in a hurry, and the yaskedasu would be safe.

Keth sighed in relief, then froze as the yellow veil slipped off the girl’s head. In a flash it looped out of the dark to drop around her neck. The Ghost had used the shadows and rain to creep up behind her. She

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