Honor Among Thieves by Elaine Cunningham Page A

solvents. They
are not alkahest, not by any means, but they have proven
useful.”
    Avidan walked closer to the nearest vat. He inhaled
deeply, closed his eyes, and stood as if listening.
    “It’s a foul stench, I’ll grant you, but the solvent
is quite effective,” Muldonny said. “This dissolves metal, very
useful in combat.”
    “A strange weapon for someone who works with metal,”
Avidan said.
    The adept reached into a pocket over one massive hip
and produced a small glass orb.
    “It is because I work with metal that I still keep
the solvent in quantity. Should one of my servants malfunction, it
can be stopped quickly.”
    “Very prudent, I’m sure.” Avidan shrugged off his
cloak and handed it to Fox. “I see you are building yet another
servant.”
    “My standard model,” the adept said dismissively.
“Useful, but nothing innovative. But come—let me show you my
garden.”
    Fox followed them out of the workshop, dropping
Avidan’s cloak to the floor before he closed the door behind
them.
    A small table had been set up in the courtyard
gardens. The refreshments were not lavish—a tall samovar of tea and
a plate of small biscuits.
    Fox hoped the alchemist did not remember his comment
about fair reimbursement for the host gifts. Or if he did, that
he’d recall it was only a jest.
    A clockwork servant poured out tea and then fell back
several paces. Fox took his cue from the machine and measured his
own distance.
    For a while, he listened while the men talked about
their work. Fox had little use for alchemy, so he learned for the
first time that it arose in Veldoon in past centuries and only
recently spread to the northlands. Interesting, he supposed, but it
was time to move things forward.
    He caught Avidan’s eye and tapped a hand to his
chest. The alchemist acknowledged him with a barely perceptible
nod.
    “I have heard that Sevrin is preoccupied with
collecting curiosities. Is this an interest you share?”
    Muldonny gestured for more tea. “I have been to the
museums, of course, but not for several years. You may wish to
visit them, if your time in Sevrin permits.”
    Avidan glanced at Fox for a prompt. The thief touched
his left shoulder.
    “So you are not a collector, then.”
    “That would depend upon your definition of the term.
Alchemists collect all manner of things. We must do so for our
work, is that not so? But amassing a display of quaint objects
merely to say you possess them?” He shook his head. “No, I am a man
of singular focus.”
    Fox touched his mouth. Echo him, keep him
talking .
    “And what is that focus?” Avidan asked.
    The adept smiled. “I admire your devotion to your
great-grandsire’s art. Like you, I believe there is much to learn
from the past. Sevrin is not wise to cut ties to the old ways.
Perhaps not even the old races.”
    This was not something Fox had ever expected to hear
an adept say. He touched his mouth again, urging Avidan to pursue
this.
    Before he could speak, a metal servant approached
with a silver tray. A single calling card lay on the tray. Fox’s
eyes widened as he recognized Rhendish’s seal.
    Muldonny did not look much happier than Fox about
this development. “This is an unexpected pleasure,” he said in a
flat tone. “It would appear that one of my brother adepts has come
to call.”
    Avidan rose. “Then I will leave you to confer.”
    “Oh, you must meet Rhendish. It will do him good to
converse with a man more learned than himself.”
    Fox flashed the symbol for Lie.
Graciously .
    “You do me too much honor.” The alchemist resumed his
seat. “It will be my pleasure. I had hoped to gain an audience with
some of your fellow adepts. I have brought samples of my work with
alkahest, if you think he might be interested.”
    Muldonny’s eyebrows rose. “I am never quite certain
about Rhendish, but I’m certainly interested.”
    “The vials are in my cloak.” Avidan snapped his
fingers as a signal for Fox to produce them.
    The