"I think you should hand him these," I said when I was finished, pointing to three items I'd set aside: the Golden Age vase, a broadsword with a golden hilt that was studded with gems set into the shape of the family's sigil, and a painting of a dragon and a sea monster fighting on the open sea. The last one especially pained me to walk away from; I would have loved to hang it up in the shop. I wondered what the autocrator would do with it. Would he proudly display this obvious depiction of dragon strength? And how would the others react to it? I knew very well from the rescue mission I'd undertaken to free our captured dragons that the Zallabarians were split on this issue: some supported the autocrator's plan to harness the dragons for his own use, while others thought they should all be slaughtered.
"Yes," the sergeant agreed, admiring each piece in turn. His eyes were shining when he finally turned back to me. "Excellent work, Mrs. Brighton. Your fee, as promised."
He handed me a small gold purse, and judging by the weight, I suspected he'd given me a bonus. "When do you think you'll be presenting these to the autocrator?" I asked, tucking the pouch into one of my skirt pockets. "I would love to be there when he receives them."
"Oh, I won't be presenting them personally." The sergeant blushed. "My captain will have that honor, at the reception.”
“Reception?” I tried not to sound too excited. “I didn’t realize there was going to be one. Is there a way for me to get an invitation?”
The sergeant winced. “I’m afraid I’ve said too much already. The fact that there even is a reception is supposed to be a secret, and only the highest officials and officers will be invited, so you won’t be able to attend. But,” he added in a cheerful voice, “I will tell my captain all about your work. It is much appreciated.”
“Thank you.” I was a little disappointed, but this was still a great lead. If we could find out where the reception was, we could sneak in and try to take out the autocrator there.
I walked back to the hotel, the coin purse feeling heftier in my skirts than it should. I had mixed feelings about helping the sergeant, and especially about profiting off pilfered Elantian goods. Yet the sergeant had given me valuable intel, even if he’d done so unwittingly. Maybe I would find a way to get the coin to those who’d been displaced by the invasion instead. That way this Zallabarian blood money could at least go to a good cause.
I returned to the suite to find Tavarian seated at the dining table, waiting for me. "Ah, there you are," he said. He got up to embrace me, and then led me over to the table. A small feast was laid out: garlic roasted chicken, new potatoes, asparagus, hot buttered rolls, and chocolate cake. "I was hoping you'd be back in time for dinner."
"Didn't feel like eating out?" I sat down next to him, my mouth watering at the sight of the food.
"Skies no." He picked up a carving knife and began cutting up the chicken. "I've had enough of people today."
I laughed, understanding the feeling very well. The worst thing about living at the base on Polyba was the utter lack of solitude. As a treasure hunter and scholar, I was used to spending long periods alone, either shut up in my apartment studying old tomes and maps or trekking in the wilderness. I liked spending time with people, enjoyed talking and laughing and eating together with them, but when I was done, I was done. And the only people I wanted to be with afterward were my loved ones.
The two of us piled our plates high with food, then spent the next ten minutes quietly stuffing ourselves. "So," I said, leaning back in my chair, a buttered roll in my hand. I was mostly sated now, at the nibbling stage of the meal. "What did you learn today?"
"Not much," Tavarian said ruefully. "Despite frequenting quite a few pubs and shops, I couldn't find any concrete information on when the autocrator is arriving or where he is staying. In fact, I've heard about five conflicting accounts, which tells me that false information has been spread deliberately."
I nodded. "I don't blame them for being careful. The sergeant I helped today was very secretive too, but he did tell me that the governor is hosting a reception for the autocrator when he arrives.”
“Is he now?” Tavarian’s eyes lit up. “Did he tell you when or where?”
I shook my head. “He regretted mentioning it at all, but it’s got to be somewhere up here in the Upper City. We could try scouting out the most likely places.”
“There are four off the top of my head that we could investigate,” Tavarian said. “But we may not have to. I ran across a member of the Resistance today and gave him the password. He says there is a meeting with the local leadership at eight o’clock tonight, and he’s urged us to come. Apparently he has important information to convey, though he wouldn’t say what in public. I’m hoping it has to do with the autocrator’s reception.”
“That’s great!” I grinned and reached for the wine bottle to pour myself a drink. I’d only intended to have one glass, but after hearing such good news I felt like I deserved another. Things were finally starting to look up for us…though of course, we still had to pin down lots of details to get this right.
“Even if we do manage to discover the location of the reception,” I said, swirling the wine in my glass, “how are we actually getting in? Sergeant Hickley made it clear there was a very restricted guest list, so we can’t just buy our way into the reception.”
"Our best chance is to disguise ourselves as Zallabarians," Tavarian said. "Someone important enough to merit an audience or receive an invitation."
"Perhaps one of the officers?" I suggested, thinking of the officers I'd overheard at lunch. If they were both on the autocrator's protection detail, perhaps we could impersonate them. If we could find them and incapacitate them in time, that is.
"No, that's too risky," Tavarian said. "The officers will know each other too well—they’ll speak of things we’re ignorant of, and if we slip up, they’ll catch us. We’ll need to find out who is on the guest list, preferably a couple, and impersonate them instead.”
“There will definitely be high-level collaborators on the list. The trouble is narrowing down who.”
Needing to stay occupied while we bided our time until the meeting, Tavarian and I went down to the bar to do more eavesdropping. As we sat at the bar, slowly sipping wine, Tavarian cast the hearing-enhancement spell, allowing us to eavesdrop on a pair of officers sitting at a small table just ten feet away.
“I don’t know what the governor is thinking, hosting such reception like this,” one of them seethed. “There are over two hundred people on the guest list! It’ll be far too easy for the rebels to slip one of their own in. Or even a double agent!”
I surreptitiously nudged Tavarian with my foot, tilting my head ever so slightly toward the two officers.
“Relax, Holland,” the other officer said. “We have two whole days to secure the venue. Besides, we’ll be searching every guest thoroughly for weapons and magical artifacts. No one will come through the doors armed.”
Tavarian and I exchanged a look, and I hid a smirk. Tavarian himself was the weapon in this case, and I doubted anyone would think twice about my little perfume bottle. I’d mixed the poison with a couple drops of real perfume, so that anyone who took a sniff would smell the fragrance. Though, of course, the guard sniffing would soon drop dead, so perhaps bringing the bottle wasn’t a good idea. Maybe I should leave it at the suite…
We eavesdropped for another hour, but the officers didn’t mention any other useful details about the reception. Still, what we’d heard was worth it: the reception was two nights away! Our chance was coming soon, which meant we needed to find a couple to impersonate right away.
“We should leave,” Tavarian said under his breath as he paid our bill. “We need to change disguises so we can attend the meeting.”
Right. I slipped off my barstool and hooked my arm through his, and we headed for the lobby. We’d nearly made it out of the dining room when an officer approached us.
“Mrs. Brighton!” He gave me a million-watt smile as he shook m
y hand. “My name is Captain Blakely. Sergeant Hickley told me about how you helped us select the souvenir gifts for the autocrator, and I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate your help. We have many more relics and valuables that still need to be authenticated. I hope you’ll be around this week to continue to offer your services.”
“I’d be happy to,” I said, hiding my dismay. I really didn’t want the soldiers to come looking for me—I had work to do!
“Excellent. Is this your husband?” He turned his gaze to Tavarian.
“Yes.” I introduced Tavarian under his assumed name. “He doesn’t quite have my eye for antiques, but he’s very good with the business side of things, so I keep him around.” I winked, and both men laughed.
“My wife has had a lust for treasure for as long as I’ve known her,” Tavarian said, putting an arm around me. “She is a very educated woman and knows far more about art and history than a simple businessman like myself. You are in good hands, I assure you.”
“Excellent.” Blakely pulled a brooch out of his pocket. “I bought this from a shop today for my sweetheart. Can you tell me if it’s genuine?”
He handed me the jewel, and a wave of shock rippled through me—I recognized the ruby and gold brooch from the jewelry case in my own shop! “Oh yes, this is definitely authentic,” I said, hiding my amusement as I made a show of studying it. “Dragon War Age, at the very least.”
“That’s what the lady who owned the shop said.” Blakely beamed as he tucked the brooch back into his pocket. “I paid ten gold dorans for it, so I’m glad to hear she’s an honest woman.”
And I’m glad to hear Carina charged a very high price for it, I thought as the officer walked away. Maybe I would stop by the shop and visit after all, if I had time in between all this reconnaissance.
10
After a quick change of disguises, Tavarian and I slipped out of the hotel and headed down the street, dressed once more in simple clothing. Since we needed to reveal our true identities to the rebels, and we didn't want everyone knowing about the extent of Tavarian's abilities, instead of magic we'd used good old-fashioned wigs and make-up to change our appearances, hiding my telltale curly, red hair and making Tavarian look scruffy and less well-to-do. The meeting was being held in the Lower City, in an underground cellar beneath an old, boarded-up tavern. Thankfully, the Zallabarians had abolished the old edict that required special passes to take the elevators, so we hopped on board and were on the ground in minutes.
“Oi, you!” a guard said as we were walking away. We turned to see him glaring at us. “Curfew is in ten minutes. What are you doing on the street?”
“We’re just heading home for the night, sir,” Tavarian assured him. “My wife and I had business at Dragon’s Table, and it took us longer than expected.”
“It’s not Dragon’s Table anymore,” the guard snapped. “It’s the Upper City for now, until the governor decides on a new name.”
Crap. Of course they wouldn’t want to call it Dragon’s Table anymore. What other rules and edicts had gone into effect in the city that we didn’t know about? We’d need to learn them soon to make sure we didn’t draw undue attention to ourselves.
“Of course.” Tavarian held his hands palm up, speaking in a placating tone. “I’m sorry. It’s just…we’ve called it that all our lives. It’s taking a bit of getting used to.”
“Well, get used to it fast,” the guard advised. “Wouldn’t want anyone to think you’re a rebel sympathizer, would you?”
We hurried off into the dark, sticking to shadowed alleys and ducking behind trash cans to avoid the patrolling guards. Part of me wished that we could run on the rooftops, but I spotted guards on a few of the buildings, rifles in hand, waiting to shoot down any trespassers. Bastards. I glared up at one of them as we crouched behind a wall, waiting for him to turn so we could make a dash for the next block. I wished I had a crossbow on me, so I could shoot him down. As far as I was concerned, the rooftops were my territory, and he was trespassing.
“Soon,” Tavarian murmured, following my gaze. He put a hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. “But for now, let’s focus on not getting caught.”
It took us thirty minutes longer than I'd anticipated to get to the meeting place, and by the time we arrived I was sweating, mostly from nerves. The boarded-up tavern looked forlorn, and I remembered that it had been a popular dive back when I still lived here. What had happened to it? Had it shut down because of the occupation? Or was it something else?
Tavarian and I went around the back, to the cellar doors set into the ground. I rapped on one of the double doors, and once Tavarian gave the password, it swung open.
“Tiana!” I exclaimed, amazed to recognize an old friend. She and I had grown up at the orphanage together, and she’d resorted to prostitution for a while before finally getting a job with a seamstress.
“Hush!” She pressed a finger to her plump lips, her blue eyes darting about to make sure no one had heard. “Hurry up and come in!” She waved rapidly, and Tavarian and I filed past her.
I stared at Tiana as she closed the doors behind us, noticing how different she looked. Her figure had rounded out, and the sallow, pinched complexion from before had faded, leaving her with a healthy glow. She was still wearing her low-cut dresses, but I caught a glimpse of a dagger strapped to one thigh, peeking out from behind a slit in the dress, and another one tucked up her sleeve. Definitely not the Tiana I’d left behind.
“I’d say you’re a sight for sore eyes,” she said once she’d shut the doors behind us and locked them from the inside, “but I barely recognize you, Zara.”
I laughed, pulling off the wig. “Trust me, I’m still the same old Zara Kenrook.”
“No, you’re not.” She embraced me fondly, enveloping me in the sweet floral perfume she always wore, then pulling back to study my face. “We’ve both come a long way, haven’t we? Me, a rebel, and you, dragon rider and leader of an army. And with a handsome man at your side, too.” She winked at Tavarian over my shoulder.
“I guess you could say that,” I said, blushing a little. “Where’s this meeting at?”
“Just around the corner. Come, I’ll take you to the others.”
Tiana led us further into the cellar, to a large, rough-hewn round table where a dozen people were seated, deep in conversation. They all rose when they caught sight of us.
“Commandant. Lord Tavarian,” Lieutenant Diran greeted us, snapping her hand up in a salute. The others immediately followed her lead.
“Lieutenant.” I nodded in greeting, then slowly looked over the others. These weren’t soldiers—I could tell that much from their posture—but they were tough-looking men and women, all armed to the teeth, their gazes hard with suspicion despite the Lieutenant’s deferential greeting. They were civilians, men and women who’d slipped away from the comfort and safety of their homes to risk their lives for this meeting because they couldn’t stand the new regime. But they didn’t know me. They weren’t my men and women.
At least not yet.
After a few questions to verify our identities—asking for information that only the real Zara and Tavarian would know—we all sat down at the table.
“Oron informed us that you’re here on a mission,” the Lieutenant said, gesturing to a burly man with a cloud of frizzy black hair. He must be the man Tavarian had run across earlier. “That you require information.”
“We are,” Tavarian confirmed. “Specifically, we are trying to find out who will be attending the autocrator’s reception tomorrow night. Do any of you have access to the guest list?”
“No, but it’s not that hard to figure out,” a blonde with a sharp nose and cupid’s bow mouth said. “All the newly wealthy Elantians who’ve taken over the dragon rider estates will be there, as well as the top government officials. Is there anyone specific you’re looking for?”
I resisted the urge to catch Tavarian’s eye. We’d agreed not to leak the specific details of our
plan in case there were Zallabarian informants among them, but we had to tell them something. “We need a married man,” Tavarian said, “or at least one who has a regular female companion.”
“Ah.” The blonde’s eyes lit up. “What about Sebur Nole? He’s an official from the previous government who threw his lot in with the Zallabarians and is now the treasury secretary.”
"Nole?" Tavarian exclaimed. "That's a step up, then, since he was the former secretary's assistant before the war. I knew him fairly well as I had to deal with him regularly." Which meant he'd be easier to impersonate than a total stranger. "But as far as I recall, he's not married."
“Nope, and he still isn’t.” The blonde wrinkled her nose. “Now that Nole is enjoying his new-found wealth and prestige, he’s secured the services of Miyanta Klaii. He takes her everywhere with him and loves to show her off to all his friends and rivals. And, of course, she’s admired by the Zallabarians too, since she’s inhumanely beautiful.”
“Right.” Miyanta Klaii was a famous beauty, and one of the most sought-after courtesans in Zuar City. Absolutely everybody knew her, or at least knew of her. The idea of impersonating her wasn’t appealing—pulling off her natural sex appeal and ability to wrap men around her finger effortlessly wouldn’t be easy for someone like me, who preferred tricking and outwitting my opponents as opposed to seducing them.
“Do you have any idea where the reception is being held?” I asked.
The lieutenant shook her head. “Just a bunch of conflicting rumors. It could be anywhere from city hall to the governor’s mansion. I think the guards are spreading false information on purpose.”
I sighed—Tavarian had surmised the same thing already. Oh well. Hopefully we would find out from Nole tonight.
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