“Did you find my letter?” she hissed.
The letter! I felt guilty. I’d completely forgotten.
“No! I told you. I’ve got no idea how to get into Toy’s strongbox. I asked Lucy and he doesn’t know and I can’t think of who else to ask. Is Shadow safe?”
“Yes, he’s in your room.”
“You brought him back here again?”
“I couldn’t leave him out there alone. I could have sworn I saw a huge glowing cat last night. Now look, friend Shadow has come up with the brainiest plan to get us into Toy’s strong box, but I need your help. Come on back to your room and we can talk about it.”
“Very well. But you’ll have to bring me back later. I’m protecting Lucient from Toy, and she may have someone watching.”
Klea pulled a face. “Poor old Lucy.” But she wasn’t really interested. It was all about the letter. What could be in it? She was a female mage, top of the heap. What in the world could be worrying her so much? Some shady financial dealing? Some unsuitable consort? Had she… killed someone?
“We have a problem,” was the first thing Shadow said to me when I climbed over the window sill; and sure enough, we did. A familiar figure sat on the bed, its hands tied around my bedpost and one of my best kerchiefs shoved in its mouth.
“Who’s that?” asked Klea
“Hagen Stellason. Curse it!”
“Uncle Lucient’s intelligencer?” Klea seized me and dragged me back out the window. “He mustn’t find out about the letter,” she hissed as we hovered outside in the chill night. She insisted I promise to keep quiet before she would let me back into the bedroom.
“Are you going to shout for help if I pull out this scarf?” I asked, returning to stand before Hagen. Something in his glare spoke of outrage rather than terror, so I took the risk, seized the end of the scarf and drew it out of his mouth.
“What the benighted hell is that?” was the first thing he said, pointing to Shadow.
“He’s not a ‘that,’” I retorted
No one expects to see a ghost in an Imperial Family House sixty miles out of Elayison, but his tone wasn’t very polite.
“‘What the hell are you doing here?’ is the question, Sirrah Hagen,” snapped Klea. This was the first time she’d put on her haughty mage’s look, and it was impressive.
“I was waiting for Marm Shine.”
“I said perhaps I’d come back later,” I protested.
“You were hiding,” accused Klea. “I didn’t see you when I came in, and I did look.”
“Of course I was. Someone comes in the window, it’s not going to be Marm Shine. I’m under the bed, very disappointed but planning to leave discreetly later. Then this”—he pointed at Shadow—“tried to get under the bed with me. What’s a ghost doing here? Has he got permission to be out here? Is he even registered? He doesn’t look like anyone I’ve ever seen before.”
“Hagen works for my great uncle, the Premier. I think he’s an intelligencer,” I explained to Shadow’s questioning look
“Oh, great!” said the ghost sarcastically. “I suppose it’s out of the question to keep him prisoner for the next two days.”
Klea was looking at Hagen speculatively.
“Of course it’s out of the question,” snapped Hagen. “I will be missed.”
“We better tell him everything.” Shadow sighed. “At least the Premier is sympathetic to us.”
“I’m sure there are limits,” snapped Hagen.
“You tell him all about yourself,” said Klea. “I need to have a word with Shine.”
She dragged me into the corner of the room and started whispering her plan to get into Toy’s strong box into my ear. It wasn’t a bad plan. I could see how it could fail, but no one was likely to be exposed if it did, so I didn’t protest. Klea’s hands were shaking and there was an edge of hysteria to her voice that worried me. When we’d played together as kids, Klea had always been very cool-headed, not one to fuss about nothing. Clearly what was in this letter was really serious.
“It’ll be fine,” I said, squeezing her hands.
“If Great-Uncle finds out, everything’s ruined,” she hissed. “Please, please don’t tell Hagen.”
When we turned back to the bed, the ghost and Hagen sitting together very companionably chatting about, of all things, the qualities of the local beers. Men can be such frivols.
“Come on, let me loose,” said Hagen. “My lord’s interests are not going to be served by my arresting this fellow. You’d best go on as you were. Your plan seems adequate. Though make sure you take him straight back to the Capital. Honestly, he couldn’t have fetched up in a worse place at a worse time. Lady Glisten is a leader of the anti-ghost faction in the Great Council, and his being here would just give her more ammunition against them. They already claim the outlanders can’t be trusted. Aah, better,” he said rubbing his unbound wrists. “So for Lady’s sake try not to involve anyone else. You, Sirrah Shadow, have put the government’s goodwill at serious risk by your actions, and I hope you know it.”
“But possibly the information about Lord Illuminus is useful,” I pointed out. “Possibly telling someone like Auntie Glisten or Lord Impavidus about Illuminus might get him off our back and prevent Shadow being exposed.”
“Yes that had occurred to me,” said Hagen, shooting me a look that had a hint of eyeroll in it. “Any other instructions for me, while you’re at it?”
“Lady Klea doesn’t want anyone to know she’s here,” I said, thinking that for Klea’s sake, it might be best to get this out into the open.
“Of course. You may rely on my discretion, Lady,” said Hagen. He rose and bowed to Klea and gave her a look that I couldn’t read. What was it? Solemn, kindly? I couldn’t read the glance Klea gave him back either, but I knew they understood something I didn’t and I was annoyed. Why was I always on the outside?
“Oh, and—Here,” said Hagen, picking something off the top of my chest of drawers and handing it to me. “This is for you, Marm Shine. A small token.”
A little bundle of sweetmeats wrapped in cloth and charmingly tied up with a red ribbon.
“Oh, I do love a man who brings sweetmeats,” I quipped, to hide the fact that I was thrilled at his thoughtfulness. Had I ever had received sweetmeats from an admirer before? If I had, I couldn’t remember it.
“I’ll let Lord Scintillant know that, will I?” he said, and slid out the door so quickly that the sweetmeat bundle I threw at him hit the closed door.
Klea magicked them up into her hand, and sniffed the bundle. “Mmmm, rosewater chocolates,” she said. “Nice. Sorry to ruin your fun, coz. He had rather a nice bottom, didn’t he?”
The ghost groaned and put his head in his hands. “This is rapidly becoming a diplomatic nightmare. I am about to go down in history as the man who ruined all hopes of a trading relationship between our two peoples. And all you two can think about is bottoms.”
“I think ‘diplomatic nightmare’ is a bit strong,” said Klea. “I’m sure as long as the conservatives don’t find out about you, Great Uncle Lucient will be understanding.” She sat down beside him and put her arm around his shoulders. “Come on, Sirrah Shadow. Cheer up.”