City of Death by Laurence Yep Page B

uncomfortably at the “3” glowing on their daughter’s palm.
    Lady Sudarshane cradled Scirye’s marked hand as if it were a piece of delicate porcelain. “It looks like someone branded you. Does it hurt?” she asked, concerned.
    Scirye slipped her hand away from her mother’s and turned it over so the sign of the goddess’s favor was hidden. “No, we think it’s a clue. It might mean that Roland is looking for three arrows at the City of Death. We have to go there as soon as we can.”
    The princess had waited patiently while her parents had welcomed her, but she now interrupted. “First, though, we need to get these ridiculous charges dismissed. So, I’m sorry to break up your reunion, but I’m afraid I need to discuss strategy with your parents.”
    Scirye and her parents reluctantly broke their embrace. As she stepped away, Scirye bowed to the princess. “I’m sorry for all the trouble we’re causing, Your Highness.”
    â€œI owe that much to a hero of the empire,” the princess said and then turned to Kles’s kinsmen. “We are grateful for all the aid you have given Lady Scirye. So let me offer you all the hospitality of the citadel after your long journey.”
    â€œThank you, Your Highness,” Captain Warpamo said with a stiff bow, “but with the lyaks roaming our lands, we need to get back.”
    They rose with great flaps of their wings that sent dead leaves and stray bits of snow swirling about. Árkwi and the imperial griffins accompanied them, separating from Kles’s kinsmen after a hundred feet to bank away toward the imperial eyrie.
    As they stood watching them disappear, a bearded, dark-skinned man in a quilted blue silk coat bowed low to the princess. “Your Highness,” he said in the Old Tongue, “the rooms are being prepared for your guests just as you commanded, but the dragon’s will take a bit longer.”
    Kles cleared his throat. “Please speak English as a courtesy to our friends.”
    The bearded man bowed to the lap griffin and answered in English. “As you command, Master Klestetstse.”
    His obvious respect was such a contrast to the attitude of his own clan that it was no wonder Kles preferred the citadel to the eyrie. Here his intelligence and learning gave him status in the human court, not his size and strength.
    The princess smiled at Scirye and her friends. “This is my steward, Nanadhat. Just tell him what you need.”
    â€œAnything?” Koko squeaked with excitement.
    â€œDon’t drool on the floor, buster,” said a badger dressed in a light green wool robe. “Someone has to mop it up, and that someone is usually little old Momo.”
    Wetting a paw, Koko hastily tried to slick down some tufts of fur. “Just how did a doll like you wind up here?”
    â€œI was in a magic show.” Lifting a paw grandly, Momo struck a pose. “I was Mademoiselle Fifi, the Girl with a Thousand Faces. But while we were in Bactra our scummy manager took a powder with all our dough. The show broke up and, times being what they were, I took a job here, and boy, was I glad of it. So what’ll it be? Drinks? Snacks?” She sniffed the air and added disapprovingly, “Baths?”
    â€œMomo”—Nanadhat frowned—“how many times do I have to tell you not to be so familiar with Her Highness’s guests?”
    â€œAw, have a heart. I haven’t seen another tanuki in a long time,” Momo said. Tanuki was another term for badger.
    The princess wrapped her arm protectively around the badger. “Let Momo be, Nanadhat. It’s refreshing to have someone who gets to the point.”
    Momo grinned insolently at the steward and then tapped the charm that the griffin mages had placed on Koko. “Is this a price tag or what?”
    Scirye took advantage of the princess’s good mood. “Your Highness, are