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shuddering breath; the self-same breath, it seemed to me, that I had drawn. His hands, pinned by the Count’s men, clenched and unclenched. Only a man, after all. I had no knowledge of his life, his history, the exigencies of a harsh lot that had driven him, had driven Harnapos, to commit such a vile act. His head fell forward, accepting the bargain. In a broken whisper, he told the rest of his tale.
    Folly, nothing but folly. Although the Tsingani had refused them, they had procured a wagon in the end, smuggling the sedated children into Amílcar beneath the careless eyes of the Harbor Watch, who gave a cursory probe into the goods they carried. Thence to port, and the meeting ordained-the rest was but Menekhetan treachery, smooth-tongued Fadil Chouma and a ship bound for Iskandria claiming their agreement had been for autumn, not spring. He would arrange for buyers on the other end, yes, but it was a matter of some delicacy, they must understand. D’Angeline blood will out, and Terre d’Ange notoriously ferocious in its persecution of slavers, of course ... Menekhet is far, but Khebbel-im-Akkad holds much sway, and the Khalif s son wed to the Queen’s own kinswoman ... perhaps he might take the one, yes, that one, peerless, that face ... aiyee! And fierce, too, stronger than he looks, but Fadil Chouma had a buyer in mind; one, only one, mind, seeking somewhat special... another draught of opium, perhaps? Yes, a buyer in mind, and one fit to tame a mountain hellion, no, no names ...
    So much did I gather, piecing Mago’s story together, leaving me sick with despair. “And you’ve no idea the buyer’s name? The buyer in Iskandria?”
    He didn’t, nor did Harnapos. The Count’s enforcer made sure of it, applying the flames over my protest. As much as they screamed and writhed, they knew no more; only that the Menekhetan had paid the purchase-price for the boy, less than they had agreed, promising to return in the fall for the other two if this deal went as planned, and meanwhile Mago and Harnapos left to care for a steadily weakening pair of D’Angeline children, keeping them hidden, keeping them silent, using the dwindling reserves of their money to buy lodgings, food, the opium that kept them sedated. No, they swore, both of them in extremis, they had left the children unmolested and intact, they were not such fools as to damage valuable merchandise, nor had they beaten them, no, not unduly, only enough to make them mind ...
    “Enough.” I pressed my fingers to my aching temples. “It is enough. Let them give what information they may regarding Fadil Chouma and the arrangements for his return. I have no more questions.”
    Nicola spoke to the Count’s enforcer, and I made no effort to follow the conversation. Kushiel’s presence had faded, and I felt hollow, tired to the bone and ill with what I had seen. “It will be done,” Nicola said to me when she had finished. Her voice was steady, lending me strength. “Fernan’s clerk will see that you receive a full transcription of the account.”
    “Thank you,” I murmured. “And the Carthaginians?”
    “Execution at dawn. It will be public,” she said, “but swift.”
    I nodded, and looked one last time at the men in the cell. “Then let us go.”
    Outside, evening sunlight gilded the Plaza del Rey. The fading blue sky seemed a vast openness, the salt tang of the harbor mingling with the fresh cool breeze from the north. Nicola shuddered, filling her lungs with clean air. “Elua! I’ll not need to see the likes of that again soon.”
    “No,” I said. “Nor I.”
    “It’s a long way from playing with silken ropes and deerskin floggers,” she mused. An involuntary shiver ran over my skin and I closed my eyes briefly, opening them to find Nicola regarding me. “Even after that, Phèdre?” she asked simply.
    “Always.” I gritted my teeth. “Always.”
    “Ah.” For a moment, she continued to look at me, our escort of Lord Ramiro’s men waiting at a polite distance. “Somehow, I understand a little better now why you chose to fix your heart on that damned Cassiline.”
    Unexpectedly, it made me smile. “It wasn’t a question of choice.”
    “Nor for him, I suppose. Well, credit it to the wisdom of Blessed Elua.” Nicola gathered herself with a shake. “Come on. I’ve need of a bath and a drink, and mayhap not in that order.”
    In the private dining-hall of the King’s Consul, we found our companions well ahead of us. The