the bistro almost directly across Fedre from headquarters. Heavy noodles didn’t bother me, just so long as they weren’t greasy. Saliana was supposedly from Tilbora in the far northeast of Solidar, and her place offered more than a few goat dishes. I had a red-spice goat curry over rice, and I used every bit of the rice, flatbread, and lager to try to keep the food from burning my mouth.
“Hot, isn’t it?” Gulyart grinned. “Brown-spice is as hot as I can take it. Captain Lheng won’t go farther than yellow-brown.”
“Next time, I’ll have the yellow-brown.” Even with the lager, flatbread, and rice I’d had with the meal, my mouth still felt like it was erupting in flame.
When we stepped out of Saliana’s, something slammed into my shields. I couldn’t help but stagger. A quick glance around revealed nothing other than people going about their business, and none of them even looked in my direction.
“You all right?” asked Gulyart.
“I slipped . . . tripped on something.” I looked down as if trying to locate what it might be. I wanted the bullet—anything to give me a clue as to who was shooting at me—and yet I knew I didn’t dare spend time searching. So I tried the idea of imaging it into my hand—and I had it in my palm. Except it was so hot that I almost dropped it and had to juggle it before slipping it into my waistcoat pocket. “I don’t know what it was. Maybe I kicked it away.” I shook my head. “I hate feeling clumsy like that.”
I didn’t want Gulyart, or any of the patrollers, to know that I was a target. That would just make learning about the Patrol even harder.
“Just be glad you weren’t wearing riot gear,” replied Gulyart. “Couple years back, more than that, I guess, because it was when I had just joined the Patrol, we had to go into the taudis below South Middle to put down a fight between two taudischefs and their enforcers. Some bastard threw hundreds of scrap bearings onto the street just as we charged them. Mualyt smashed his elbow so bad he got stipended out. That was the last time anyone talked about getting rid of the mounted riot squad. Most of them have other duties, though, these days.”
There were three more prisoners waiting when we got back to the charging desk, and the rest of the afternoon wasn’t much better, because they kept bringing in more prisoners.
As soon as I returned to the Collegium late in the day after finishing my observational duties, I made my way to Master Dichartyn’s study, where I rapped on the door.
“Rhennthyl, sir. I need a few moments with you. Something’s come up.”
“I’ll be with you in a moment.”
A moment was close to a quarter glass, but that wasn’t surprising once I saw Master Schorzat leaving, since he ran the covert field operative section of the Collegium and reported to Master Dichartyn.
As soon as I’d entered the study, Master Dichartyn looked up at me, almost wearily. “What have you to report?”
“On Samedi night, someone took a shot at me, and the same thing happened today at lunch, when Gulyart and I were walking back toward the headquarters building. I think the shot came from a window or the top of a building. I just told Gulyart I stumbled on something.”
“Do you think he figured out what really happened?”
“He didn’t press me or look at me strangely. If he did, he’s not saying, not to me.”
“If he is, I’ll learn later,” Master Dichartyn said. “Did you see anyone?”
“No. They were using a rifle, possibly a sniper rifle.”
“Were they actually trying to hit you?”
“There was just one shot both times. Each hit my shields. Today, I managed to image the bullet into my hand.” I slipped the flattened lead from my waistcoat pocket and handed it over to him.
“You imaged it into your hand?” His eyebrows went up.
“I couldn’t very well go grubbing around for it. I thought it would either work or it wouldn’t.”
“How do you know you didn’t
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