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idea—because Algini had not said—how many of the current Guild administration thought they owed personal favors to this man.
    One had no idea what resources Shishogi might still have. There were pockets of Shadow Guild activity in the world, potentially able to carry out assassinations—last night had proven that—and there were people whose actions during Murini’s rule left them very, very afraid of what Tabini’s investigators might find in the records. Increasingly, honest people who had lived in fear under Murini’s administration were coming forward and talking. But a few people who had things to hide were very anxious about what they knew that the Shadow Guild might want buried.
    The little old man in Assignments had had the whole atevi world in his hands just a year ago.
    But as of this morning, the Tactician was gone.
    Now, on this train, headed back to the capital in secret, the aiji-dowager was taking direct aim at the Strategist.

5
    C ajeiri waked, straightened in his seat, smoothed his coat, and saw that Jegari was awake, too, across the aisle. Nobody else was. Gene, Irene, and Artur had nodded off, Irene and Artur leaning against the wall of the car, Gene with his head on his arms on the table. Antaro, Lucasi, and Veijico were asleep, arms folded, heads down . . . one
thought
they were asleep.
    The train had begun slowing down. That was a little scary . . . since that could mean all sorts of things, and they
still
could not raise the window shades to see what was outside.
    â€œWhere are we, Gari-ji?” he asked Jegari.
    â€œOne believes we are actually entering Shejidan, nandi. We should switch tracks soon.”
    Shejidan. He had not thought he had possibly slept that long. “Is there any news?”
    â€œWe are still running dark, nandi, not communicating with anyone, not even using the locators. We have no news.”
    â€œBut we
are
still going to the Bujavid.”
    â€œOne believes that we are, yes.”
    Others in the car were waking up, too, having felt the change in speed, and he saw no distress among the senior Guild. The rest of his aishid woke up calmly, and had a quiet word with Jegari.
    Gene lifted his head, blinked, raked his hair back. “God,” Gene said in a low voice. “I’m sorry. I fell asleep.”
    â€œSo did everybody for a while. Jegari thinks we are coming into the city now. We definitely should not touch the shades.”
    The others were stirring, Irene, then Artur, who wanted the accommodation, and got up and went to the back of the car.
    â€œWe are in the city now,” Cajeiri said. “Any moment now, we will switch tracks. Rene-ji, lend me your book and I shall show you where we are.”
    She turned to a blank page and handed her notebook to him. He leaned forward to draw so they could see. He drew the hill of the Bujavid, and the Bujavid at the top, and he showed how the tunnel went through the hill, turning as it went.
    â€œWe will go slowly here,” he said, pointing at the hill itself. “And we shall climb to the train station. And then we shall take lifts up into the Bujavid itself.” There was a gap in his explanation, there, a big one, because he had no idea
where
they were going once they got into the Bujavid. But
how
to explain it did occur to him. “The Bujavid is a place like the ship. Like the station. Hallways. Passages. Quarters.”
    â€œA ship on a mountain,” Gene said with a little laugh.
    â€œA hill,” he said, measuring with his fingers. “Little mountain.”
    â€œHill,” Gene said, and everybody said it.
    â€œWith passages all inside,” Irene said.
    â€œIndeed,” Cajeiri said. And then he thought he should explain other things. “There are a lot of storage rooms below.” He pointed on the diagram between the circle that was the train station and the Bujavid’s ground floor. “Here, stairs come up to