The Tainted City by Courtney Schafer

Martennan’s drawling accent. What was he doing back here? I slid along the wall with all the stealth I could muster.
    “…grant you permission to take both of the Arkennlanders?” That was Talmaddis’s light tenor, shaded with concern.
    “I believe so,” Martennan said. “Though some in the Council think me either a madman or a fool. But Varellian supports me, and I think she will carry the day in the end. I fear by now my debt to her is so great I’ll never repay it.”
    He sounded like that debt was a real concern. After a considering pause, Talmaddis said, “Well. When she calls in a favor, it can’t be as bad as that mess with the ships we handled for Orenntavis. I still have nightmares about those sea monsters.”
    Sea monsters, huh? Maybe life in Alathia wasn’t quite so boring as I’d assumed.
    Martennan chuckled ruefully. But when he spoke, the words were dead serious. “I think our task in Ninavel will make poisonous tentacled horrors seem a pleasant diversion.”
    So. Not quite as blasé over the risk as he’d been in front of Kiran. He might just mean Ruslan, but I had a dark suspicion there was something he hadn’t told us.
    “Oh, I believe you,” said Talmaddis. “I spent three whole years stationed there, remember? Human monsters are the worst by far. But enough of that…you look like the Council dragged you through a herd of angry pronghorns. Come relax a moment. Have a glass of wine, assuming the Arkennlanders haven’t guzzled every drop in the house.”
    “Your company will be relaxation enough.” The depth of warmth in Martennan’s words made me blink. I risked a glance around the corner, down through the staircase’s iron railings. In the foyer below, Martennan and Talmaddis stood facing each other, mere inches apart. Even as I watched, Martennan put his palm flat on Talmaddis’s chest, right above the Council seal on Talmaddis’s uniform. Talmaddis covered Martennan’s hand with his own in a motion just short of a caress. A smile both fond and wicked spread on Talmaddis’s lean face before the two men moved off toward the study.
    Lovers, then. Interesting. I’d heard that in Alathia’s common guard, officers were forbidden to pair with soldiers under their command, to prevent favoritism. It’d be nice to think what I’d seen might provide a lever against Martennan—but then, he and Talmaddis hadn’t exactly seemed furtive about their affection. Maybe the Council gave the mages of the Watch more leeway in personal matters to make up for all the other restrictions piled on them.
    “Do you need something, Dev?” Lena spoke from behind me.
    I turned a little too fast and had to steady myself on the wall. “Uh. No. That is, I wanted to get some water from the kitchen.” At least I managed to speak without slurring. Much. How long had she been standing there? She couldn’t blame me for listening to Talmaddis and Martennan when they were standing right out in plain view.
    Lena took in my death grip on the corner, and her mouth twitched. “I take it your efforts with Kiran were successful?”
    “Yeah,” I said. “No more screaming, tonight at least.” I peered at her. “Martennan had better bring some yeleran extract along to Ninavel. Hell, I don’t know why Kiran’s not using it here. He wouldn’t need any calming teas then.” I’d learned on our trip across the Whitefires that yeleran sent Kiran into a heavy, dreamless sleep, the same way it did for everyone else.
    “When the healers at the Sanitorium examined him a few weeks ago, they told us not to allow him any more doses,” Lena said. “They said Kiran had been using yeleran too often, and they were worried about an imbalance of the body humours.”
    “Well, shit. In that case, bring some earplugs.” Getting Kiran drunk had worked tonight, but I didn’t think that was such a good idea in Ninavel, not with Ruslan lying in wait.
    “I know the trip won’t be easy for him.” Lena glanced back towards