Briar sighed. “I am a true pahan. You don’t know how true. Just not with stones.” He walked up to the mage, drawing his pendant out and holding it so she could see. As she leaned in to look at it, he showed her the far side as well. Without warning, she grabbed his hands and inspected them, tracing a vine with a hennaed fingertip. The vine moved under Briar’s skin, following her fingertip like a fascinated snake.
Freeing him, she made a noise that sounded a great deal like “hmpf.” She straightened and nodded at the mutabir.
With a flick of the hand the man sent everyone else, guards and scribe alike, from the room. Only when he, the mage, and Briar were alone did the mutabir tell Briar, “This is Pahan Turaba Guardsall. She is my aide.”
Briar nodded to the veiled woman. “I still don’t see why I’m here.”
“Lady Zenadia doa Attaneh is the amir’s aunt,” Turaba said. Her voice was curt and slightly muffled by her veil. “She bought our prince his first pony. She is godmother to his oldest son and daughter. There are Attanehs in the army, all three priesthoods, the amir’s council, and the council of nobles. She is even a distant cousin of the king who reigns from far Hajra.”
Briar, about to spit at the mention of the Sotaten king as he always did, thought the better of it. It was possible that they might like the monarch. Besides, Briar’s insides were prickling. These people wanted something from him. Whatever it was, he doubted he would like it.
“When so important a person is concerned, any attempt to discover the truth of ugly rumors must be handled with care,” the mutabir said, choosing his words slowly. “Any great family would be sure to renounce one of their own as criminal, should rumors be proved. Alas, a noble family would be quicker still to attack the Watch if it were to learn that the Watch is investigating one of them.”
“What rumors?” Briar asked, his voice sharp. “If you mean her taking up with a gang, I bet everyone from the Street of Wells to Triumph Road knows that.”
Turaba was shaking her head. “Deaths have been rumored, over the last ten years,” she replied. “Deaths and disappearances.”
“Our last four Watchers in that house have vanished,” the mutabir informed him. “We can find no trace of them.”
That was why Briar had noticed the spies reporting to the Watch when they picked him up — the house was being watched from the outside, if not from within. “So,” Briar said, inspecting the vines on his scarred hand, “would you have grabbed me at all if it hadn’t been four of your own gone missing? You haven’t exactly stopped her from giving weapons to a gang, have you?”
The mutabir raised his eyebrows. “Gangs have been at war since Mohun crafted the dark spaces within stone,” he told Briar. “If they kill one another, it is hardly of concern to me or mine.”
“She wants that street girl you found,” Turaba added as Briar thought longingly of punching the mutabir. “She offered the girl employment, suitable teachers, a place in her home. Why do you refuse such an opportunity for the child?”
Briar scowled. How close had some informer been to his booth yesterday, if they knew so much? “Do you also know how many times I get up in the night to make water?” he demanded crossly.
“Information is the key to order,” the mutabir replied, his mellow voice amused. “My people gather as much as they can. We would like some from you, pahan. Why does she want that girl?”
“Scry your own answers,” retorted Briar. “You must have seers in the Watch.”
Turaba shook her head. “House Attaneh has owned land in that part of the city for over six hundred years,” she informed Briar. “The outer walls and the houses themselves are protected with old and new spells from common nuisances like burglars and seers. Forgive me if I am the first to explain,” she added with mocking kindness, “but the wealthy like to keep their secrets. Will you please tell us why the girl is important to her?”
Briar shrugged. Of course he knew the wealthy bought magic to protect their homes: he’d dealt with plenty of it. There were always counter-magics available to negate such spells. On the other hand, layers of spells, laid down over centuries, could be much harder to beat.
“Lady Zenadia says she wants Evvy to run errands and keep her company, but really it’s for her toy gang, the Vipers,” Briar told them. “They’ll do better at thieving if they have a stone mage, and Evvy’s the only other stone mage in Chammur. The Vipers tried to get Evvy and failed, so Lady Zenadia tried going through me. I’m Evvy’s teacher for now.” Inspiration struck. “You could lock her up for criminal business,” he offered. “If she runs a gang, she benefits from the fights and the stealing, right?”
“One doesn’t bother the amir’s aunt with petty charges,” Turaba replied. To the mutabir she said, “The rumors weren’t so persistent until she met their tesku, Ikrum. He’s been a bad influence. So has the gang.”
What about the influence she’s been on them? wondered Briar.
The mutabir looked at Briar. “What did you see in her house?”
Briar grimaced. “A chamberlain. A lot of rooms. Gardens — nice ones. A few servants. What did you expect me to see, dead Watchmen hanging from the rafters? Loot the Vipers turned over to her?”
“I do not appreciate impertinence, even from a pahan,” the mutabir informed him. “We desire you to allow the girl to go to Lady Zenadia. She will then report to us. She is clever in the way of street people, and, better still, too young to be suspected as a Watch informer —”