into one to steal?”
“I obtained permission for my raid on Qijne’s kitchen,” hereplied. “Nor is that here nor there. You are not the head of a kitchen. Did you do this? Did you try to steal from Phmer?”
“I’ve already said I didn’t,” Annaïg pointed out.
“Well, we shall see about that,” Phmer said. She gestured at a box on the floor, and her red-skinned underchef bent to it. He unlatched one side of the thing, and something crawled out.
She thought at first it was a spider, but its legs weren’t rigid; nor were they as supple as those of a squid, but something in between. And—she realized as it unfolded them—it had wings, rather like those of a mosquito, and in fact now it somewhat resembled one, albeit one that could fit into the palm of her hand.
The wings blurred into motion, and the little creature lifted into the air; three stalks or antennae began probing about as it approached her. She remained still, wondering if it had some sort of sting, and if she had made a mistake. She tried to slow her heart with simple willpower, but it thudded on irrespective.
The tentacles tickled across her face and down her dress, lingering on her left hand, but then the creature darted over to Slyr and began to make an annoying high-pitched sound. Phmer frowned, but Toel’s lips turned up.
Slyr just looked puzzled, then aghast.
Toel lifted his hand toward Phmer, then turned it gently toward Slyr. Two of his guards took Slyr by the shoulders, and the woman looked wildly at Annaïg.
Phmer reached into one of Slyr’s pockets, and then the other. From the second she withdrew a small vial. She uncorked it, sniffed it, and then tasted a bit on her finger.
“This is it,” she said. “The scent of my kitchen is on her dress, the ninth savor in her pocket. Do you need more?”
“I do not,” Toel said. “The evidence is clear enough.”
“How did you do it?” Phmer asked Slyr. “There was sign that you had been in the kitchen, but my best safeguards are thosearound the taste itself, and you left no trace there. I must know how you did this.”
“I didn’t!” Slyr exploded. “It was Annaïg! Somehow she made it look as if—why would I warn you she was going to steal from you if it was really me coming? Why would I—This is her doing!” She plucked wildly at her clothing, as if discovering it was made of fire. “This is her dress! She’s tricked us all somehow.”
“Let me understand this,” Toel said softly. “You warned Phmer against someone on my staff? Behind my back?”
Slyr shrank back, like a cornered animal, a little whimper escaping her.
“She remains mine,” Phmer said.
“Oh, you may have her,” Toel replied. “I have no doubt you will extract revenge enough for both of us.”
“First there will be questions,” she said. “Many, many questions.” She nodded at Annaïg. “I would question her as well.”
“There is no evidence against her other than the testimony of a thief,” Toel replied. “You may not have her.”
Phmer lifted her chin haughtily, but she didn’t argue. Instead she signed for her creature to take Slyr.
“Annaïg, please,” Slyr whimpered.
She felt her heart soften, remembering her first few weeks in the bowels of Umbriel, nights with Slyr, gazing at the stars.
“It’s not in my hands, Slyr,” she said quietly. “Your own actions brought you to this.”
And so they dragged Slyr off. She didn’t beg or plead again, at least not in Annaïg’s earshot.
When they were gone, Toel indicated one of the chairs.
“Sit,” he said.
She did as he commanded.
“How did you do it?” he asked.
“Chef—” she began.
“You are safe,” he replied. “Unless you left some sort of evidencethat might turn up later, you are safe. I can easily see how you manipulated Slyr into going to Phmer, and how you used the chemical stains of that kitchen to implicate her, how you might scrub them from your own person. But I ask you again, how did you
“I obtained permission for my raid on Qijne’s kitchen,” hereplied. “Nor is that here nor there. You are not the head of a kitchen. Did you do this? Did you try to steal from Phmer?”
“I’ve already said I didn’t,” Annaïg pointed out.
“Well, we shall see about that,” Phmer said. She gestured at a box on the floor, and her red-skinned underchef bent to it. He unlatched one side of the thing, and something crawled out.
She thought at first it was a spider, but its legs weren’t rigid; nor were they as supple as those of a squid, but something in between. And—she realized as it unfolded them—it had wings, rather like those of a mosquito, and in fact now it somewhat resembled one, albeit one that could fit into the palm of her hand.
The wings blurred into motion, and the little creature lifted into the air; three stalks or antennae began probing about as it approached her. She remained still, wondering if it had some sort of sting, and if she had made a mistake. She tried to slow her heart with simple willpower, but it thudded on irrespective.
The tentacles tickled across her face and down her dress, lingering on her left hand, but then the creature darted over to Slyr and began to make an annoying high-pitched sound. Phmer frowned, but Toel’s lips turned up.
Slyr just looked puzzled, then aghast.
Toel lifted his hand toward Phmer, then turned it gently toward Slyr. Two of his guards took Slyr by the shoulders, and the woman looked wildly at Annaïg.
Phmer reached into one of Slyr’s pockets, and then the other. From the second she withdrew a small vial. She uncorked it, sniffed it, and then tasted a bit on her finger.
“This is it,” she said. “The scent of my kitchen is on her dress, the ninth savor in her pocket. Do you need more?”
“I do not,” Toel said. “The evidence is clear enough.”
“How did you do it?” Phmer asked Slyr. “There was sign that you had been in the kitchen, but my best safeguards are thosearound the taste itself, and you left no trace there. I must know how you did this.”
“I didn’t!” Slyr exploded. “It was Annaïg! Somehow she made it look as if—why would I warn you she was going to steal from you if it was really me coming? Why would I—This is her doing!” She plucked wildly at her clothing, as if discovering it was made of fire. “This is her dress! She’s tricked us all somehow.”
“Let me understand this,” Toel said softly. “You warned Phmer against someone on my staff? Behind my back?”
Slyr shrank back, like a cornered animal, a little whimper escaping her.
“She remains mine,” Phmer said.
“Oh, you may have her,” Toel replied. “I have no doubt you will extract revenge enough for both of us.”
“First there will be questions,” she said. “Many, many questions.” She nodded at Annaïg. “I would question her as well.”
“There is no evidence against her other than the testimony of a thief,” Toel replied. “You may not have her.”
Phmer lifted her chin haughtily, but she didn’t argue. Instead she signed for her creature to take Slyr.
“Annaïg, please,” Slyr whimpered.
She felt her heart soften, remembering her first few weeks in the bowels of Umbriel, nights with Slyr, gazing at the stars.
“It’s not in my hands, Slyr,” she said quietly. “Your own actions brought you to this.”
And so they dragged Slyr off. She didn’t beg or plead again, at least not in Annaïg’s earshot.
When they were gone, Toel indicated one of the chairs.
“Sit,” he said.
She did as he commanded.
“How did you do it?” he asked.
“Chef—” she began.
“You are safe,” he replied. “Unless you left some sort of evidencethat might turn up later, you are safe. I can easily see how you manipulated Slyr into going to Phmer, and how you used the chemical stains of that kitchen to implicate her, how you might scrub them from your own person. But I ask you again, how did you
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