Mistress of the Night by Don Bassingthwaite, Dave Gross Page A

that killed him, can they...?"
    He touched his nose. Keph didn't think he had to ask the obvious question. If the Sehinites could tell—could smell maybe—that Cyrume was a Sharran, what was to stop them from coming for Jarull? Or maybe even for Keph himself eventually?
    Jarull grunted and shook his head. "They can't sniff out Sharrans," he said. "You don't have to worry about that. Cyrume was on the goddess's business. The Selunites ripped him apart to stop him." He spat into the dust. "They didn't have to. They could probably have just taken him to the guard. But they killed him." He squinted, glaring at Keph through narrowed eyes. "Never trust a Selunite, Keph."
    Keph nodded slowly.
    "What now?" he asked. "Will you have some kind of memorial?"
    Jarull shrugged and said, "I don't know. Maybe. I haven't been part of the cult that long." He twisted
    around and rose to his feet. "Come with me. I sent you that note because there's someone who wants to meet you."
    "Who?" Keph stood as well.
    "Bolan."
    Keph drew a sharp breath and dashed after Jarull. Of the big man's Sharran friends, there was one name Keph hadn't forgotten, even if he hadn't yet seen a face to place with it. Bolan was the closest thing to a high priest that the followers of Shar in Yhaunn had, the leader of their secretive cult.
    And Bolan, Keph had quickly gathered, didn't meet with just anybody.
    Jarull set a brisk pace through the heat of the afternoon. Though they stuck to the relative cool of the shadows, Keph was sweating heavily before long. Jarull, however, barely seemed to notice the heat at all. Not a drop of sweat stood out on his pale skin. When Keph suggested a break in a nearby cellar tavern, a respite from the heat, the big man barely gave him a glance.
    "When Bolan wants to see you," Jarull said over his shoulder, "you don't keep him waiting."
    Their destination was halfway across the city, in one of Yhaunn's poorer neighborhoods. Jarull stopped and nodded at a narrow, unassuming house. The building was modest, in slightly better repair than those around it. Keph noticed, however, that the children playing on the street gave it a wide berth, and that a group of old men sitting on a plank bench nearby offered dark looks when they saw him and Jarull pause. Keph resisted the urge conceal his face.
    "Do they know about Bolan here?" he whispered to Jarull.
    "They don't know what we know." He went up to the door and opened it without knocking. Keph followed him through.
    The air inside the house was blessedly cool—but it also stank. Keph's nose crinkled immediately. The smell was almost like his family's laboratories, but at the same time different. Wizards' laboratories tended to smell dry and
    faded, like old herbs, or else wet and rancid like rotting meat. Bolan's house had a different scent entirely: dark and heavy, a little bit metallic, a little bit like minerals. Keph could smell the sting of vinegar and the burning stench of sulfur, along with other odors he couldn't quite identify.
    "Alchemy...." Keph muttered.
    "Yes."
    A man stepped out from a curtained doorway and Keph resisted the urge to stare. Short legs and a bullish neck made the man look as squat as a dwarf. His shoulders were round and thick, his chest and belly fat like a barrel. His appearance might have been comical if not for the porcelain smoothness of his face. He had no wrinkles or stubble, and Keph was reasonably certain the sun hadn't touched his face in months. His head was bald on top, but a long fringe of unnaturally black and glossy hair was gathered in a tight braid that hung down his back. Jarull offered him an obeisance. After a heartbeat, Keph did the same.
    Bolan grunted and said, "He's quick, isn't he?"
    Jarull nodded silently. Keph waited as the squat alchemist looked him over then held out his hand.
    "Let me see your rapier," he said.
    Keph glanced at Jarull. His friend gave him a pointed glare and jerked his head toward Bolan. Keph drew Quick and handed her to