Traitor's Moon

him.
    â€œThere is one more thing you ought to know,” she warned. “Lord Torsin has opposed including you.”
    The words took a moment to register. “Why?”
    â€œHe believes your presence will complicate negotiations with some of the clans.”
    Seregil let out a derisive snort. “Of course it will! Which meansthe queen must have some very pressing reason for sending me against the advice of her most experienced envoy.”
    â€œYes.” Klia turned the map weight over in her hands. “As envoy to Aurënen, Lord Torsin has served my family faithfully for three decades. There’s never been any question as to his loyalty or wisdom. However, in all that time, outsiders have never been allowed beyond the city of Virésse, which means he’s more familiar with that clan and their allies in the east. It would be—understandable if his long association with certain khirnari might unconsciously predispose him in their favor. The queen and I believe your westerner’s point of view will prove a very valuable balance.”
    â€œPerhaps,” Seregil said doubtfully. “But as an exile, I have no connections, no influence.”
    â€œExile or not, you’re still Aurënfaie, still the brother of a khirnari. As for influence—” She gave him a knowing look. “You know better than most in how many directions that can work. You’ll certainly be seen as having my ear. I’m betting that some Aurënfaie will see you as a sympathetic conduit. Alec, too, for that matter.”
    This was familiar ground. “We’ll do what we can, of course.”
    â€œBesides which,” Klia continued earnestly, “there’s no one else in all Skala I’d rather have at my back than the pair of you if things get complicated. I’m not asking you to spy on them, but you do have a talent for ferreting out information.”
    â€œWhy do you think they’re letting you come there, after all these years?” asked Alec.
    â€œSelf-interest, I suppose. The prospect of Plenimar controlling Mycena and perhaps striking a bargain with Zengat to the west has made at least some of them reexamine their alliegences.”
    â€œHas there been more news of the Zengat situation?” asked Seregil.
    â€œNothing certain, but there are enough rumors flying around to make the Iia’sidra nervous.”
    â€œIt should. The world’s a smaller place than it once was; it’s time they realized that. So, what is it that Idrilain wants?”
    â€œIdeally? Wizards, fresh troops, horses, and open trade. The northlands and Virésse are already all but lost to us and it’s likely to get worse. At the very least, we need Gedre as an open port. The establishment of an armorers’ colony at the outer Ashek iron mines would be even better.”
    Seregil ran a hand back through his hair. “By the Light, unless things have changed significantly from what I remember, we’ve gota hard task ahead of us. The Virésse will oppose anything that threatens their monopoly on Skalan trade, and everyone else will be horrified at the thought of a Skalan colony on Aurënfaie soil.” Flexing her shoulders wearily, Klia returned to the paper-strewn table. “Diplomacy is a lot like horse trading, my friends. You have to set your price high so they can beat you down to what you really want and still believe they got the best of the bargain.
    â€œBut I’ve kept you long enough and Thero is anxious to see you. A room’s been made ready for you upstairs. By the way, I took the liberty of asking your manservant in Wheel Street to send down some necessities. Beka said you two had been living rough up there in your hideaway.” She took in their plain, mud-spattered clothing with a comic grimace. “I see now she rather understated the situation.”
    Sarikali. The Heart of the Jewel
.
    Alec repeated the magical name silently as he and Seregil climbed the stairs. He’d listened carefully to all Klia had said, but that one detail, and Seregil’s shocked reaction, had captured his imagination.
    They’d spoken of Sarikali only once that Alec could recall. “It’s magical ground, Alec, the most sacred of all,” Seregil had told him in the depths of a long winter night. “An empty city older than the ’faie themselves; the living heart of Aurënen. Legend says that the sun pierced the heart of