Blint opened his mouth, but he closed it again as Sara swept by to open the door. Duly dismissed, Blint stomped out. Sara followed right behind him, stepping out of the way as the pages showed in the royal ambassador from some country she couldn’t be bothered to remember.
As ordered, Sparrow was waiting in the hall for her. He was freshly washed and dressed, and his hair was pulled back in a long, blond snake of a braid over the shoulder of his impressively garish orange coat. He stood aside for Blint with a flourish as the Tower Keeper stomped down the stairs and then turned to Sara, smiling as he handed her a lit pipe.
“Thank the Powers,” she muttered, snatching the pipe from his hand and putting it to her mouth with a deep draw that she held for nearly half a minute. “At least something’s going right,” she said, letting the breath go at last. “Do you have it?”
“Of course.” Sparrow pulled a worn leather book from his sleeve. “Just as I told you.”
Sara snatched the book with greedy fingers, her eyes widening with delight as she flipped through the pages. “Not as good as the man himself,” she said. “But I’ll take what I can get.”
“You’re welcome,” Sparrow said pointedly as they started down the stairs.
Sara blew a line of smoke at him. “Did you manage to plant the point?”
“Not an hour ago,” Sparrow said. “Just before we entered the city.”
“And she didn’t notice?” Sara asked, taking in a fresh lungful of smoke.
Sparrow looked affronted. “Who do you think you’re dealing with?”
“Just checking,” Sara said. “I’ve been far too much in the company of idiots lately.”
“That’s the risk you take working with the Council,” Sparrow said cheerfully. “Are you sure about this Miranda thing? I mean, I went through all that trouble to get her in debt to us, I’d hate to think we let her off the hook too easily.”
“I’m sure,” Sara said, flipping through Slorn’s book. “I got back from the desert this morning, but Alber’s weapon isn’t ready yet, and at this rate I don’t know when it will be. I need more wizards, and fast. Myron’s already drawn up plans for more spirit defense points than I can man, even with Blint’s deserters. That militaristic idiot doesn’t seem to understand that wizards are not interchangeable. There’s a huge power difference between a man like Blint and our Miranda. I’d hoped that by making Banage a traitor we could squeeze the Court enough to get what we needed, but it looks like all the true talent has stayed loyal so far.” She blew an angry line of smoke. “They’re worse than burned sugar, the way they stick together.”
“If you’re holding out for Miranda to turn, it’ll be a long wait,” Sparrow said. “Banage could say the sky was green and she would still back him.”
“It’s her loyalty I’m counting on,” Sara said with a sad sigh. “Blint was right, you know. Banage will never back down now that Whitefall’s forced him to make his stand. He won’t budge an inch from that tower until I roll over. We’ve been playing this game for twenty years now, he and I, but not for much longer. I didn’t want it to be like this, but the Empress is the trump that forces all hands, even mine.”
“Well, that’s the problem with games,” Sparrow said. “Sooner or later, someone has to lose.”
Sara sighed again and tapped out her pipe. Sparrow just smiled and held the door for her as they started down the dark stairs toward her office in the Relay chamber.
Outside, at the edges of Zarin, another hundred soldiers arrived at the gates.
CHAPTER
13
Josef stomped after Duke Finley’s servant as they wound down through the ancient warren of Osera’s royal offices. But rather than stopping at one of the venerable old doors, the servant led Josef out past the stables to the little paved yard at the rear of the palace. A black carriage was waiting there for them, and the servant hurried forward to open the door.
Josef paused. This was all getting a little too suspicious—the sudden invitation, the backdoor exit, the unmarked carriage. Though, Josef reminded himself, suspicious as it was, he wasn’t exactly a soft target. If Finley wanted to try something, let him. At least it would be a straightforward fight. Grinning at the thought, Josef climbed into the carriage. It rocked under his weight as he pulled himself inside. The servant followed, shutting the door behind them. The moment the door closed, the carriage shot forward, clattering through the yard and out the iron gate.