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Authors: Erin M. Evans
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the door ahead of him. Rohini moved closer to the archway, making certain she did not seem obtrusive.
“I beg you to only consider—” Vartan began.
“We have considered,” the other man said. He met the half-elf priest’s impassioned expression with an equally dispassionate one, not bothering to wipe away the sweat that streamed down his temples and beaded his brow. His suit was damp with it. “We have no interest in what you offer. Anyone can study the Chasm. It brings my patrons no gain.”
“You were happy with Brother Anthus’s work,” Vartan said.
Very bad, Rohini thought. That was not a path to test. If Vartan pushed the representative of the Sovereignty too far, everything would be in jeopardy. She stepped into the corridor.
“Brother Vartan?” she said. The priest turned to her, as did the other man. Well dressed and haughty, Rohini thought, but he carried with him an odor not unlike a dockside at dusk—cold and wet and dank and vaguely fishy. A necessary evil, she thought, remembering her orders.
“Ah,” Vartan said, “Rohini. This is my second-in-command—as it were—Rohini. She was Brother Anthus’s assistant before his untimely death. Rohini this is—”
“That is not necessary,” the man said. His pale eyes bored into Rohini for a moment. She fought the urge to stare him down and made a polite curtsey.
“Well, nevertheless, I wish you good health,” she said, as if she did not notice the man’s consideration. “I must steal Vartan away from you, I’m afraid. I do hope your talks went well?” She toyed with a frizzy curl of her hair.
The man did not answer. Not for the first time, Rohini cursed that she did not quite know what she was dealing with in Vartan’s nameless, would-be patron. He might look like any other mortal, but looks could be deceiving. Tempting as it was to test his boundaries, she had been warned not to.
“Another time perhaps,” she said.
The man looked at Vartan. “Perhaps.”
“Yes,” Vartan said, giving Rohini a hard stare. “Another day. Farewell, sir.”
The sweating man turned and walked away down the corridor without responding.
“Things were improving,” Vartan said. “Why did you chase him off that way?”
“Because you were losing him,” Rohini answered. “What did you say? What did you promise him?”
“That isn’t your concern.”
“Your concerns are my concerns. What did you promise him?”
Vartan’s dark eyes flicked over her face, as if he were trying to remember why he felt the need to tell her. “Access to my findings,” hesaid. “Access to Anthus’s findings—the ones we know about.”
Rohini shut her eyes. Whatever secrets Anthus had recorded, the Sovereignty not only knew about them now—they knew he had recorded them.
“He ought to see the merit in my goals,” Vartan said, frowning in the direction the Sovereignty’s agent had taken. “In
our
goals,” he amended. “Who wouldn’t see the virtue in curing the effects of spellplague? In resurrecting the dead gods?”
“Oh, Vartan,” she said. She looked up at him, making sure her eyes were brown and soft. He always paid attention when they were brown and soft. She reached out and laid a hand on his forearm, where he’d rolled his sleeve up from the heat. The muscles beneath her hand twitched, but Vartan didn’t break his gaze.
“It’s important,” she said, “that you convince our friend there that you are worth his time. You are not going to do so unless you give him something that he wants.”
“Something that he wants?” Vartan said.
“Yes. And he isn’t going to tell you outright what that is, so you are going to have to tease it out of him.”
“Tease it out of him.”
“I’m well aware it’s not your strong suit,” Rohini continued. “But you want to do it. You want to find a way into the Sovereignty’s good graces. And soon. We both know that.”
“We do,” Vartan agreed.
Rohini stood and stepped in close. She
“I beg you to only consider—” Vartan began.
“We have considered,” the other man said. He met the half-elf priest’s impassioned expression with an equally dispassionate one, not bothering to wipe away the sweat that streamed down his temples and beaded his brow. His suit was damp with it. “We have no interest in what you offer. Anyone can study the Chasm. It brings my patrons no gain.”
“You were happy with Brother Anthus’s work,” Vartan said.
Very bad, Rohini thought. That was not a path to test. If Vartan pushed the representative of the Sovereignty too far, everything would be in jeopardy. She stepped into the corridor.
“Brother Vartan?” she said. The priest turned to her, as did the other man. Well dressed and haughty, Rohini thought, but he carried with him an odor not unlike a dockside at dusk—cold and wet and dank and vaguely fishy. A necessary evil, she thought, remembering her orders.
“Ah,” Vartan said, “Rohini. This is my second-in-command—as it were—Rohini. She was Brother Anthus’s assistant before his untimely death. Rohini this is—”
“That is not necessary,” the man said. His pale eyes bored into Rohini for a moment. She fought the urge to stare him down and made a polite curtsey.
“Well, nevertheless, I wish you good health,” she said, as if she did not notice the man’s consideration. “I must steal Vartan away from you, I’m afraid. I do hope your talks went well?” She toyed with a frizzy curl of her hair.
The man did not answer. Not for the first time, Rohini cursed that she did not quite know what she was dealing with in Vartan’s nameless, would-be patron. He might look like any other mortal, but looks could be deceiving. Tempting as it was to test his boundaries, she had been warned not to.
“Another time perhaps,” she said.
The man looked at Vartan. “Perhaps.”
“Yes,” Vartan said, giving Rohini a hard stare. “Another day. Farewell, sir.”
The sweating man turned and walked away down the corridor without responding.
“Things were improving,” Vartan said. “Why did you chase him off that way?”
“Because you were losing him,” Rohini answered. “What did you say? What did you promise him?”
“That isn’t your concern.”
“Your concerns are my concerns. What did you promise him?”
Vartan’s dark eyes flicked over her face, as if he were trying to remember why he felt the need to tell her. “Access to my findings,” hesaid. “Access to Anthus’s findings—the ones we know about.”
Rohini shut her eyes. Whatever secrets Anthus had recorded, the Sovereignty not only knew about them now—they knew he had recorded them.
“He ought to see the merit in my goals,” Vartan said, frowning in the direction the Sovereignty’s agent had taken. “In
our
goals,” he amended. “Who wouldn’t see the virtue in curing the effects of spellplague? In resurrecting the dead gods?”
“Oh, Vartan,” she said. She looked up at him, making sure her eyes were brown and soft. He always paid attention when they were brown and soft. She reached out and laid a hand on his forearm, where he’d rolled his sleeve up from the heat. The muscles beneath her hand twitched, but Vartan didn’t break his gaze.
“It’s important,” she said, “that you convince our friend there that you are worth his time. You are not going to do so unless you give him something that he wants.”
“Something that he wants?” Vartan said.
“Yes. And he isn’t going to tell you outright what that is, so you are going to have to tease it out of him.”
“Tease it out of him.”
“I’m well aware it’s not your strong suit,” Rohini continued. “But you want to do it. You want to find a way into the Sovereignty’s good graces. And soon. We both know that.”
“We do,” Vartan agreed.
Rohini stood and stepped in close. She
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