Shatterglass - By Tamora Pierce Page 0,79

“Hello,” he said to her, “what’s your name?”

Glaki, suddenly shy, stuck her thumb in her mouth and hid behind Tris.

“She’s Glaki,” Tris explained quietly. “Iralima was her mother, Yali her foster-mother.”

“Gods,” Dema said, dejected. “That’s more ill luck than anyone should have in one lifetime.” He looked at the globe that sparkled on a counter. “Another one. Splendid. If the last two are any indication, he’ll strike tonight. Any luck in getting the lightning to clear?”

“We’re going to work on that after we eat,” Keth replied with a sidelong glance at Tris. “They turned you down, didn’t they? The Keepers.”

“Niko said they did,” Tris murmured.

Dema looked at the hardboiled eggs and helped himself to two. “They said the city can’t afford the loss of income from Khapik,” he said, shoulders drooping as he peeled an egg. “That the people would lose confidence in the Keepers, even the Assembly. That it would look as if they were admitting defeat at the hands of a lone madman. That all order is lost. In the audience chamber, while Niko asked about the cleansing, I heard someone whisper that if Khapik closed, the Ghost might come for respectable women.” Chime clambered into Dema’s lap, purring musically. He smiled absently at her, ate half an egg, then continued, “The Keepers asked why they shouldn’t replace me now and let my family deal with the loss of status. Thank the All-Seeing I had a fallback plan to give them. If I don’t find the Ghost in ten days, Nomasdina Clan loses one of our Assembly seats as punishment for sending an idiot like me to work for Tharios. I asked how could I save our honour with Khapik open and my hands tied, but they were done with me. How can they not care?” he burst out, looking from Keth to Tris. “Women are dying! Why won’t they do whatever is necessary to save them?” He stuffed the other half of his peeled egg into his mouth.

Tris laid a hand on Dema’s arm. “Why are you up? You need sleep. Tired folk make mistakes.”

Dema swallowed, drank some water, and sighed. “I’m on my way back to Elya Street now. There’s a room in the back I can use.”

“What about your fallback plan?” Keth wanted to know, curious. “What’s that?”

Dema peeled his second egg. “My sergeants will find as many arurim as they can, particularly females, to bring into Khapik disguised as locals. I can do that if I pay for it myself, or rather Nomasdina Hall pays. With an Assembly seat at risk, Mother will let me spend the money.” He looked at the globe. “Come for me when that clears?”

Keth nodded and squeezed Dema’s shoulder. “Get some rest,” he said. Dema nodded and left, eating his second egg.

“So they won’t close Khapik,” Tris mused, “but if he can find people to act the victim for him, and if he pays for their time, he can do that. This city doesn’t make sense.”

“It does in a strange way,” replied Keth as he gathered their leavings. “If you belong to a great family, your power is shown by what you give to the city that grants you greatness. The city gives to you, you give to the city. It’s worked for Tharios until now.” He dumped their rubbish in the barrel by the rear gate. “And honestly, Tris, have you ever heard of anything like these murders? Women in the same line of work, killed the same way by one person, left out in public for everyone to see?”

He. watched as she tugged her lower lip. “Sandry — my foster-sister — wrote to me that some assassins worked like that in Summersea a few months ago,” she replied slowly. “But they were killing the members of another family as part of a trade war, in a way that would frighten anyone who might think to cross them.”

“I don’t think the Ghost does it for that,” Keth said. “Yaskedasi aren’t exactly anyone’s rivals for anything. I think he likes it. And maybe he looks to shame Tharios, by showing that no one can stop him.”

“And if you can’t afford fountains or extra arurimi, like the yaskedasi and the Fifth Class, the city does nothing to help,” Tris remarked tartly. She got to her feet and stretched to loosen her back. “Back to work, Keth. I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you try to blend the lightning on the outside of the globe, so you can clear the surface.

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