Cold Steel (Spiritwalker 3)
“Andevai’s bride! This I did not expect.” A djeli spoke from within the mirror.
I had walked right into his trap. A crash sounded from upstairs.
I bolted out the door and slammed into Bee.
“We’ve got to run!” I steadied her before she stumbled down the steps. Rory waited on the street, looking alarmed. “The law offices have been abandoned. Someone has set a djeli to watch the premises with magic. I’m afraid it’s the mansa’s djeli, Bakary.”
In such circumstances Bee never argued or questioned. “Where do we go?”
“We need to find out what happened to the law offices.”
At the corner of Enterprise Road and Fox Close, the loitering man had reappeared. He looked our way as he deliberately took off his hat and replaced it with the cap worn by the radicals. He’d seen us, so there was no harm in asking, since he already knew we were there. I strode back to the corner. He touched two fingers to his forehead in a welcoming salute.
I smiled saucily, for I had discovered at the boardinghouse that a flirting smile was likely to get a tip, and right now we needed a tip badly. “May the day bring you peace, Maester. How is it with you and your family? Well, I hope.”
The man measured me with a grin. “Better now you’ve come, lass!”
“Cat, really!” muttered Bee.
“Have you news of what happened to the law office?” I asked.
A pair of mounted men appeared far down Enterprise Road.
The man doffed the cap, tucking it inside his coat. His dusty blond hair hung to his shoulders. “Those with feathers must flee the nest when predators disturb the tree.”
“Were the lawyers arrested?”
“Birds cry a warning each to the other.”
His cryptic utterances annoyed me. “By which I take it that the prince’s militia raided them, but they escaped. How long ago did this happen, Maester?”
“If you want to know more, come in off the street.”
We followed him through the public room of a coffeehouse where shabbily dressed men sipped at their brew. They watched us go into a private room furnished with a table and chairs.
“Sit. Will you have food or drink? It’s already paid for.” The young man had the freckled face of a pale man who has spent a good deal of time in the sun, and a bone-deep weariness made his features melancholy. A woman walked in with a tray of bread and cheese and a pot of hot coffee with four cups. She set it down and went out.
The coffee smelled delicious, and I hadn’t eaten decent cheese for months.
“I suppose it can’t hurt,” said Bee, seating herself next to Rory.
I plopped down next to our new companion and cut off a hunk of cheese to go with my bread. The coffee was rich and sharp.
“To answer your question, the attack on the law offices happened right after the Solstice riots three months ago. A march was held on the first anniversary of the Northgate poet’s hunger strike. Why do you want to know, lass?”
“Why would I tell my business to the likes of you, a man loitering on the street like any sort of scoundrel?”
“Whsst! You’re a fiery beast, lass. It will take a strong man to harness you.”
“It would take a strong man to not speak of harnesses!”
Perhaps I gestured aggressively with the knife, for his laughter ceased. His mouth settled into a grin that twitched with both bravado and an emotion like anger. Men didn’t ever like to look as if women frightened them.
“If you want information, lass, you might think a moment about whether you want to antagonize a man who’s willing to tell you things. And to feed you most generously, in a city where plenty of folk go to bed hungry and wake up hungry with no hope of even a scrap of bread.”
I sighed gustily. “My apologies. We’re looking for the troll lawyers.”
was no part of a troll maze. This was a djeli’s mirror, like the one on the first-floor landing of our old home. In such a mirror, a djeli could see into the spirit world.