The Drowning City - Amanda Downum [43]
The two men walked toward the lapidary hall; the Assari mage topped the Viceroy by a head, stiff-spined and square-shouldered. Zhirin followed, keeping to the grass and shadows, a whisper of concealment hanging off her. Not that it could hide her from a mage as strong as Imran, but it made her feel better.
She felt better knowing that Asheris was gone too. Imran was a humorless and disapproving man, but he didn’t make her skin crawl. Lesser spirits fell silent when Asheris passed, the way small animals cowered away from predators. No matter how charming he was, she still shivered when she met his eyes. It was the diamond he wore, she suspected—something fierce and unsettling bound in it.
The two men spoke as they walked, but she couldn’t make out their words over the crunch of gravel. Her own slippers on the grass sounded ridiculously loud and she didn’t dare move closer. She often enjoyed the soporific peace of the grounds, but now it thwarted her.
When they finally stepped inside the lapidary she sped up, slinking around the gray-white trunk of a neem tree and toward the back of the building. She nearly sighed out loud when she found a window open to the breeze. Crouching amid hibiscus bushes, she forced herself to ignore her racing heart and concentrate on sharpening her hearing. After a moment voices came into focus.
“It’s not enough,” Faraj said. Sandals scuffed against tile. “Half our tithe was in that warehouse, or more. The Emperor won’t be pleased.”
“We’ll redouble our efforts in the mines,” Imran replied. “Empty the Khas’s prisons—we need every body available if you wish to collect the tithe on time.”
The Viceroy sighed. “Very well. They’ll be full anyway, after today.” His voice faded as he paced away, loudened again as his circuit brought him near the window; Zhirin held her breath. “But what about the rubies? Not all of them could have been destroyed in that fire. Can you locate them?”
“We can try. If we have some stones cut from the same vein, it will be easier.”
Between their voices, she heard someone else breathing, and the scrape of a chisel. The old lapidary Hyun, she guessed. The man was long deaf—Zhirin had never suspected they kept him on because he couldn’t overhear their plans.
“Tell the overseers—they’ll help however they can.” Faraj paused. “What about the other stones?”
“Again, we can try. Those will be easier, perhaps. There are less of them about to muddle our scrying.”
Faraj sighed. “No wonder people say they’re cursed—the wretched things are more trouble than they’re worth.”
Zhirin drew a sharp breath through her nose. It was true. Pain stung her mouth and she realized she was chewing her lip.
“The Emperor doesn’t agree.”
“The Emperor doesn’t have to manage this operation. Not to mention deal with these insurgents.”
“His Majesty has more than enough to concern him. But I’m sure we can recoup our loss soon enough. With Asheris’s help—”
“No.” Faraj’s voice hardened. “Asheris is too valuable to me in the city. I need more than geomancers to govern Symir.”
“You rely too much on Asheris.” Disapproval colored Imran’s sonorous voice. “And trust him too much. The man is dangerous—”
“The Emperor appointed him personally, didn’t he—just as he did you? And Asheris has proved more valuable to me than half the members of this hall. If Ta’ashlan cannot part with more inquisitors, then I have no choice but to use the one I have to his fullest capacity.”
Zhirin could imagine the stern lines of Imran’s face in the silence that followed. The soft scratch of chisel on stone continued. “Very well,” he said at last. “We shall make do, I’m sure.”
Their footsteps—Faraj’s sandaled and Imran’s booted—moved away, and a moment later the door opened and shut. Hyun’s chisel kept up its rhythm. Zhirin’s breath left in a rush, loud as thunder to her heightened hearing. She leaned against the wall until her pulse slowed.
And she’d thought the ruby mines were bad enough. She moved out of the shrubbery, scuffing a footprint out of the soft earth of the flower bed. Did Vasilios know, she