Shadow and Betrayal

it. The sallow man finished, and an old, thick-faced man rose, took the pulpit, announced himself to be Cielah Pahdri, and began listing the various achievements of his house dating back to the fall of the Empire. Maati listened to the recitation and Baraath’s overloud chewing with equal displeasure.
    He was right before, Maati told himself. Baarath was the worst kind of ass, but he wasn’t wrong.
    ‘I assume,’ Maati said, ‘that “piss troughs” is a euphemism.’
    ‘Only half. Most of the interesting news comes to a few teahouses at the south edge of the palaces. They’re near the moneylenders, and that always leads to lively conversations. Going to try your luck there?’
    ‘I thought I might,’ Maati said as he rose.
    ‘Look for the places with too many rich people yelling at each other. You’ll be fine,’ Baarath said and went back to chewing his trout.
    Maati took the steps two at a time, and slipped out the rear of the gallery into a long, dark corridor. Lanterns were lit at each end, and Maati strode through the darkness with the slow-burning runout of annoyance that the librarian always seemed to inspire. He didn’t see the woman at the hallway’s end until he had almost reached her. She was thin, fox-faced, and dressed in a simple green robe. She smiled when she caught his eye and took a pose of greeting.
    ‘Maati-cha?’
    Maati hesitated, then answered her greeting.
    ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I seem to have forgotten your name.’
    ‘We haven’t met. My name is Kiyan. Itani’s told me all about you.’
    It took the space of a breath for him to truly understand what she’d said and all it meant. The woman nodded confirmation, and Maati stepped close to her, looking back over his shoulder and then down the corridor behind her to be sure they were alone.
    ‘We were going to send you an escort,’ the woman said, ‘but no one could think of how to approach you without seeming like we were assassins. I thought an unarmed woman coming to you alone might suffice.’
    ‘You were right,’ he said, and then a moment later, ‘That’s likely naïve of me, isn’t it?’
    ‘A bit.’
    ‘Please. Take me to him.’
    Twilight had soaked the sky in indigo. In the east, stars were peeking over the mountain tops, and the towers rose up into the air as if they led up to the clouds themselves. Maati and the woman walked quickly; she didn’t speak, and he didn’t press her to. His mind was busy enough already. They walked side by side along darkening paths. Kiyan smiled and nodded to those who took notice of them. Maati wondered how many people would be reporting that he had left the council with a woman. He looked back often for pursuers. No one seemed to be tracking them, but even at the edge of the palaces, there were enough people to prevent him from being sure.
    They reached a teahouse, its windows blazing with light and its air rich with the scent of lemon candles to keep off the insects. The woman strode up the wide steps and into the warmth and light. The keep seemed to expect her, because they were led without a word into a back room where red wine was waiting along with a plate of rich cheese, black bread, and the first of the summer grapes. Kiyan sat at the table and gestured to the bench across from her. Maati sat as she plucked two of the small bright green grapes, bit into them and made a face.
    ‘Too early?’ he asked.
    ‘Another week and they’ll be decent. Here, pass me the cheese and bread.’
    Kiyan chewed these and Maati poured himself a bowl of wine. It was good - rich and deep and clean. He lifted the bottle but she shook her head.
    ‘He’ll be joining us, then?’
    ‘No. We’re just waiting a moment to be sure we’re not leading anyone to him.’
    ‘Very professional,’ he said.
    ‘Actually I’m new to all this. But I take advice well.’
    She had a good smile. Maati felt sure that this was the woman Otah had told him about that day in the gardens when Otah had left in chains. The woman he loved and whom he’d asked Maati to help protect. He tried to see Liat in her - the shape of her eyes, the curve of her cheek. There was nothing. Or perhaps there was something the two women shared that was simply beyond his ability to see.
    As if feeling the weight of his attention, Kiyan took a querying pose. Maati shook his head.
    ‘Reflecting on ages past,’ he said. ‘That’s all.’
    She seemed about to ask something when a soft knock came at the door and the