Point of Hopes (52 page)

Biatris nodded. “I know mine to just about the
quarter.” Monteia nodded again. “And would you be willing to do
this—knowing it could be dangerous?”

There was another silence, longer this time, and
then Biatris shrugged. “If it might help, yeah, sure.”

Asheri looked at her shoes, and Rathe felt
unreasonably guilty. She didn’t want to be a pointswoman, he knew
that well enough—her real love was needlework, and one of the
reasons she worked as a runner was to save the fees she needed to
join the Embroiderers’ Guild. He tilted his head, trying to see her
face, and was relieved to see it merely thoughtful, neither afraid
nor angry. She looked up then, and nodded. “All right. I’m
willing.”

“
I think we should all go,” Lennar
said, and Jacme nodded. He was the oldest of the group, seemed
older, Rathe knew, because he’d been on his own so long.

“
I agree.” He grinned, showing the
gap at the side of his mouth where a tooth had been knocked out.
“Even with Nico and everybody keeping an eye on us, they’ll have to
stay back to keep from upsetting these astrologers, and hells, it’d
have to be harder to steal just one from among a group.”

“
It’s been done,” Rathe said, but
looked at Monteia, and nodded. “I think he’s right,
Chief.”

“
I agree.” Monteia reached under
the worktable, pulled out the station’s strongbox, and fished under
her bodice for the key. She unlocked the heavy chest, and took out
a bag of coins. “What did you say they charged, Nico?”

“
Half a demming, or so most of the
kids who didn’t get taken said,” Rathe answered, and Monteia
grunted.

“
Better give you a few more than
that,” she said, and counted out three demmings for each of the
runners. “If you don’t spend it, keep it. And there’ll be a
seilling apiece when we all get back.”

A seilling was decent money, and Rathe saw several
of the runners exchange glances, suddenly sobered. If Monteia was
willing to pay that much, they were obviously thinking, then it
must be serious. Good he thought, and said aloud, “One thing more.
These astrologers are also offering charms against the current
troubles. If he offers you one, take it, but give it to one of us
as soon as you can, all right? We can take it to the
university.”

Biatris and Asheri nodded.

“
All right,” Monteia said. “Stay
together as much as you can without looking suspicious—Biatris, you
and Asheri stay tight, that’ll make it easier to watch you.
Everyone understand?” The runners nodded. “Right, then. Let’s go to
the fair.”

It didn’t take long to collect the rest of the duty
pointsmen and women, and to abandon the semi-uniform of jerkin and
truncheon. Rathe trailed behind the little knot of children as they
passed the edge of the fair precinct, aware of Houssaye strolling a
little behind him, parasol balanced on his shoulder. At the
midafternoon, things were a little less busy than usual; a number
of the stalls had fewer workers in evidence, and Rathe could see
merchants snatching a hurried meal in the back of others. At least
it would be easier to watch the kids than it would have been in the
full crowds, he thought, as long as the astrologers do their
part.

They made their way across the full width of the
fairground without result, though Laci stopped to spend some of his
coins on stick candy and a cup of thick, sweet Silklands tea. At
the northern edge, where the linen-sellers had their booths, the
group of runners paused, and Rathe stepped back into the shade of
an awning, pretending to examine the bolts of coarse cloth.

“
That’s good for shirts, sir,” the
woman behind the counter said. “Wears like iron, and only an aster
a yard. You won’t get a better shirt for two seillings.”

Rathe nodded, not really listening. Out of the
corner of his eye, he could see the runners arguing about
something, Biatris and Ashen pointing back toward the center of the
fair, Lennar pointing toward the distant corrals. Rathe
frowned—what were they thinking of, to split the group?—and then he
saw the way that Laci was fidgeting. Even as he realized what was
happening, Jacme caught the younger boy by the hand and started off
at speed toward the corrals and the latrines beyond. Rathe swore
under his breath, and turned away from the stall, looking around
for one of the other pointsmen. Before he could do anything,
however, he saw Salineis, conspicuous in a broad-brimmed hat, take
off after them. He allowed himself a sigh of relief—at least
someone would be watching them, even if they weren’t in the most
likely group—and turned to follow the others.

They had gotten a little ahead of him, were just
turning into the row of stalls that sold needles and fine thread.
Asheri’s doing, Rathe thought, and did his best not to hurry after
them. She took her time making her way along the rows of stalls,
obviously drawn in by the displays: silk and linen and even cotton
thread in every thickness and every color of the rainbow; packets
of pins wrapped in bright dyed paper; polishing glasses, dark and
light; needles and needle-cases and shears in every size from the
length of a finger to heavy iron things nearly as long as a woman’s
forearm. Biatris stayed close to her side, though from the glazed
look on her face, she would rather have been somewhere else, but
the rest of the runners had drawn ahead of them, and at last
Fasquelle stopped turned back to stare at them.

“
Come on, will you?” Her clear
voice floated above the noise of the fair, audible along the length
of the row.

Biatris lifted a hand and then touched Asheri’s
shoulder. The younger girl sighed and moved reluctantly away from
the array of threads. Rathe grinned sympathizing with both sides,
and the expression froze on his face as he saw a man in a black
robe turn into the row of stalls. He seemed ordinary enough, the
shabby scholar’s robe half open over a plain dark suit, his round
face a little pink from the heat, but Rathe felt his spine tingle.
The man spoke to the first group of runners, and Rathe saw Surgi
shake his head. The astrologer shrugged smiling, and moved on.
Asheri had seen him, too, and as he drew abreast, she stepped into
his path. She said something—asking for a reading, Rathe knew, and
didn’t know if he was impressed or appalled by her bravery—and
jerked her head toward Biatris, who moved up to join her. The
astrologer looked from one to the other, nodding, and then motioned
for them to follow him. He led them back the way they’d come, and
Rathe looked away, pretended to be examining a length of
embroidered ribbon, as they passed him. He counted to twenty, then
shook his head at the stall-keeper, and trailed after the
black-robed figure. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Houssaye’s
parasol, and then Monteia’s oxblood skirt and bodice suit. If the
astrologer tried anything, they would be ready.

The astrologer paused then, and gestured for the
girls to precede him down an alley that ran between two of the
larger stalls. Asheri hesitated for a fraction of a second, but
Biatris stepped firmly on, and the younger girl followed, the
astrologer in his black robe trailing after them both. Rathe swore
under his breath, and looked around wildly. Monteia was already
moving to put herself at the far end of the alley, and Houssaye and
Andry were in place as well. The sight was steadying, and Rathe
made himself walk casually past the alley-mouth. He could do
nothing more than glance in, not without rousing suspicion, but in
that instant he caught a glimpse of the two girls standing
fascinated, eyes on the orrery held by the astrologer. He was
adjusting one of the rings that gave the planetary positions, and
seemed to be explaining something at the same time. And then Rathe
was past, and made himself stop at the nearest stall, trying to
pretend to study the display of needles.

“
Andry’s gone round the other end
with the chief,” Houssaye said, softly, and leaned over the other
man’s shoulder. His parasol was neatly folded now, Rathe saw, ready
for action.

“
Good,” Rathe answered. “Is there
any way of getting closer?”

Houssaye shook his head, his face reflecting the
same frustration Rathe was feeling. “Not without being seen. Gods—”
He broke off then, shaking his head, and Rathe laid a hand on his
shoulder.

“
There’s no other way in or out,”
he said, with more confidence than he felt. “So we
wait.”

It seemed an interminable time before the girls
reappeared, walking solemnly on either side of the astrologer. Both
looked thoughtful, and Rathe found himself holding his breath. If
the astrologer has already placed some geas on them—but that was
supposed to be impossible, or at best extremely difficult without
the proper tools and carefully chosen stars, he reminded himself.
The astrologer said something to the girls, and then turned away,
heading toward the center of the fair.

Rathe nudged Houssaye. “Follow him,” he said, and
himself moved up to join the runners. The rest of the runners
hurried over, too, and Rathe gathered them into a tight group.

“
Are you all right?” he said, to
Asheri and Biatris, and both girls nodded.

“
It wasn’t anything, really,”
Biatris said, and Rathe held up his hand.

“
We’ll talk when we get back to the
station. Where’s Jacme and Laci?”

“
Laci had to piss,” Fasquelle
answered, and Salineis loomed over her shoulder.

“
They’re with me, Nico. The chief
says we should get back to the station. She’ll meet us
there.”

Rathe nodded. “We’ll take a boat,” he said, and
added silently, and I’ll pay for it myself if the station
won’t.

It took a few minutes to find a boat that would take
the entire group upstream, but eventually they found a small barge
and Rathe herded everyone aboard. Despite the current, it didn’t
take long to reach the landing at the Rivermarket, and Rathe led
them quickly back through the streets to the station house. To his
surprise, Monteia was there ahead of them, sitting scowling at the
main desk. Her frown eased a little as she saw them, and she
gestured for the runners to find seats in the clutter of the main
room.

“
Sal, shut the door. Nico, where’s
Houssaye?”

“
I told him to follow the
astrologer,” Rathe answered, and Monteia nodded.

“
Good luck to him, then. All right,
what happened?”

Biatris and Asheri exchanged glances, and the older
girl said, “Not a whole lot, really. Asheri asked if he read stars,
and what he’d charge to read ours. And he said it’d be a demming
for both of us, and asked what our stars were. I told him mine, and
he said that, since I knew mine so well, he could give me a proper
reading, with his orrery. So we went between a couple of stalls
where it was quiet, and he did. He didn’t say much, though, not
much more than I could’ve gotten from a broadsheet.”

“
I told him mine, too,” Asheri
said, “and he gave me a hard time about them, kept on about was I
sure that was right.’’ She made a face. “I think he could tell I
was southriver born, and wanted to make sure I wasn’t lying. But I
asked him if he thought I would ever be able to join the
Embroiderers’ Guild and he did a reading for that. He had a really
fancy orrery, though.”

“
I thought it looked pretty
battered” Biatris objected and Asheri nodded.

“
It was, but it was—well, more
complicated than a lot of ones I’ve seen. It had a lot more rings
to it.” She shrugged. “Anyway, then he warned us to be very
careful, that the trouble was almost over, but that we couldn’t
relax yet. And that was the end of it.”

“
Did he give you anything?” Rathe
asked.

“
Oh, gods.” Biatris reached into
the pocket under her skirt. “He said it was a charm against the
current troubles.” She produced a disk of dark wax, marked with the
same sort of symbols Rathe had seen on the other charms. He took it
from her, turning it over in his hand and looked at
Asheri.

“
Did you get one, too?”

She was nodding already, held out a second wax disk.
“It’s funny, I thought it looked a little different—” She broke
off, eyes widening, and Rathe held the two disks in the light from
the window.

“
They are different,” Monteia said
and came to look over Rathe’s shoulder.

He nodded turning the disks in the light. Asheri’s
was a different color, more green than black, though still very
dark, and the symbols embossed on its surface seemed to be arranged
in a different order. “I think Istre should see these right away,”
he said and heard the shadow of fear in his own voice.

Monteia nodded. “I agree.” She looked at the
runners. “And I think you should stay here, the lot of you, at
least until we know what’s happening.”

Rathe pocketed the charms. “I’ll be as quick as I
can,” he said and hurried out into the afternoon heat.

b’Estorr was not in his rooms, but a grey-gowned
student volunteered that she thought the necromancer was at the
library. Rathe thanked her, and made his way back across the wide
yard to the massive building that housed the university’s library.
It looked as formidable as many fortresses, thick walls and narrow
windows, and the narrow lobby was cold even in the summer heat, the
stones hoarding the chill. Statues of Sofia and Donis and Oriane
and the Starsmith stood in orderly ranks above the barred doors
that led to the library proper, staring past the mere mortals who
walked below them. The proctor on duty, tall and painfully thin,
shook her head when Rathe asked to be admitted.