"I will be fine," he assured me, his voice a bare whisper. "Sarad couldn't take me when he was in his full power. He's still a specter, almost a ghost." Tam's dark eyes glittered with anticipation. "My plan is to make that arrangement permanent."

I tried to get up, but my knees had other ideas. Vegard was there to help. As always.

"Thank you."

A little smile curled his lips. "Always glad to help a fellow warrior, ma'am." There was quiet pride in his voice.

I gave him as much of a smile as I was able. "I like your plan," I told Tam. "Mychael's plan is to lock me up in the citadel. I refuse to sit in a warded and guarded room like some kind of crown jewel while Sarad Nukpana picks off the people I care for." I paused uncomfortably. "Mychael and Piaras are in the citadel . . . and you're here. I don't like it, Tam."

Tam stood, his grin wicked. "So you want me and my crown jewels in the citadel with you?" His grin faded. "I'm not alone, Raine, and I am certainly not defenseless. I am prepared for many forms of attack-as I always have been. I can take care of myself and my son."

Tam's son, Talon, was the result of a relationship Tam once had with an elven woman. That made Talon a half- breed, which in the opinion of the goblin aristocracy made him an abomination. Tam had rubbed their collective nose in it by publicly acknowledging Talon as his son and heir.

"Where is he?" I asked.

"In his rooms. And yes, I'm sure he's there and is going to stay there," Tam said in response to the question I was about to ask. "He was just escorted back from his spellsinging lesson. He has homework, which he'd better be working on right now."

Instead of trying to sneak out a window for an early date.

Tam pulled out a chair for me, and I straddled it, resting my arms across the back. Tam tossed me a towel from behind the bar, then pulled a chair opposite me and sat down, leisurely stretching his long legs out in front of him and crossing his ankles.

His black eyes gleamed. "I found the coach Sarad Nukpana used last night."

Apparently Tam had already dismissed the fact that I'd almost separated his head from the rest of him. I knew I couldn't. I'd be replaying it in my nightmares. I'd just add it to the growing list of nightmare fodder. For now, if Tam wanted to ignore it, I could, too.

"And when were you going to tell me about the coach?"

"I'm telling you now," Tam said. "I told Mychael earlier."

"Well, where is it?"

"A town house on Park Street. It's a rental property. A robe maker has a shop on the first floor and lives on the second; the third floor is being used by a bookseller for extra storage."

"And it has a carriage house."

"It does, and inside is a very nice black coach, covered in tarps, of course."

"What about the horses?"

Tam shook his head. "Just the coach. In his present state, Nukpana would have to have at least one person working for him. Likely it was that person who hired the horses from a nearby stable-and there are at least six stables within acceptable distance. Black horses are common here, Raine. Conclave mages looking to impress their peers on a night on the town would want a matched set."

Or Sarad Nukpana wanting to scare the crap out of me.

"The town house is one of four in the city owned by the Ghalfari family," Tam said.

"Goblins?"

"Even better. Sarad Nukpana's family on his mother's side."

I spat a laugh. "That thing has a mother? Let me guess, she says he's really just a nice goblin boy who wouldn't hurt a fly."

"Actually, she's quite proud of him."

"Figures. And you found which house he was using by process of elimination?"

"That and proximity to one of his hideouts."

I couldn't believe what I just heard. "You know where he is? And you didn't tell us?"

"I know where he was. He hasn't been there in over a week."

"And Mychael knows this, too." I didn't ask it as a question; I knew the answer only too well. Mychael knew, I didn't, and he had probably wanted it to stay that way. Mychael and I were going to have a talk.

"Mychael knows. However, Nukpana was no longer there and it was obvious to me that he had no intention of coming back. Mychael stepped up Guardian patrols in that neighborhood. The city watch has the next few streets under surveillance. Sarad is fond of taunting us, but he has come too far to take needless risks."

"How about the other three houses?"

"They're all occupied. Rented, like the first."

"One of those occupants could be hiding him. Or he could be living in the attic or a cellar."

"He could be, but he's not. One is being rented by an elven family whose daughter is enrolled in the college, the second by a pair of human mages, and the third is the home of a college fraternity."

I tried to picture Sarad Nukpana haunting a frat house. "That doesn't mean that he's not there."

"My men and I have checked each house."

"No Nukpana."

"Not a trace."

I wanted to believe that they had missed something, but Tam's men were dark mages, trusted colleagues from Tam's days in the goblin court-or as close to trusted as you could get in the goblin court. If they said Sarad Nukpana wasn't there, then he wasn't there.

"Tam, I need to lay hands on that coach."

He knew I meant that literally. "Absolutely not."

"You said Nukpana hid it well, so it's unlikely he thought anyone was going to find it. If he used that coach to kidnap General Aratus, there's going to be psychic residue all over it; and the more violent the kidnapping, the stronger those images will be. Yes, it'd be great if I could get enough from that coach to track Nukpana, but it might be just as productive if I could find his accomplice."

Tam didn't say a word; he just looked at me. You know the look, the one that said shaved ices would be served in the lower hells before he'd let me get within five blocks of that coach.

"Tam, you said someone had to hire horses for that coach. That same living, breathing, solid someone tossed the general's body at my feet. Nukpana's not fully corporeal yet; he needs mortal, flesh-and-blood help, and his helper was in that coach. If I can get in there, I can get his scent, and I can find him."

The stubborn set of Tam's jaw told me he knew I was right. Tam hated it when that happened.

"When did you find the coach?" I tried to keep my eagerness from showing. Tam knew I'd already sunk my teeth into this one. His sigh confirmed it.

"Just before dawn this morning."

"Did anyone see you?"

Tam gave me another look; you know that one, too.

I raised my hands. "Sorry. Of course no one saw you."

"Momentary lapse accepted."

"So you found all this out-the coach, houses, horses-in less than a day?"

Tam smiled. "You're not the only one who can find things people want to keep hidden."

"I never said I was." I stood. "Now, where is that coach?"

"Being watched."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"I know precisely what you mean, and I'm not telling you where it is. It's too close to dark to risk you going anywhere near there. Nukpana may be planning to use that coach again tonight."

"Yeah, and we can't let him."

"And we won't. Three of my men are watching the carriage house. If Nukpana shows, two will follow him; one will report back to me."

I opened my mouth to protest, and Tam held up a hand. "Yes, Mychael does know; and yes, he has provided backup for my men. If Nukpana or his accomplice comes for that coach, he or they will be stopped. And if we're lucky, we can end this tonight."

Lady Luck had stopped speaking to me; I hoped she was on better terms with Tam. Women liked Tam.

Tam's lips turned into a firm line. "If we don't, Sarad may soon have all the help he needs to regenerate himself, highly qualified help. The best nachtmagus in the goblin court arrived late yesterday on a ship from Regor, sent by Sathrik himself. He went directly to the goblin embassy."

King Sathrik Mal'Salin. Goblin king, Nukpana's boss, mildly psychotic, extremely murderous. But then, this was the goblin royal family; crazy was in their blood. Aside from getting Sarad Nukpana back, he wanted to get his hands on me and the Saghred. When Nukpana failed to deliver me, Sathrik set his royal lawyers on me. As far as I knew, they were still slithering their way through Mid's legal system.

"Would Sarad Nukpana trust this nachtmagus?"

"Probably," Tam said. "It's his uncle on his mother's side-Janos Ghalfari."

"Damn."

"Trust me, something stronger would be infinitely more appropriate. I've seen Janos at work. There's nothing he hasn't done, or at least tried; and if he liked it, he did it again. And when he stepped off of that goblin ship, he had Khrynsani temple guards with him."

"Do you think Sarad Nukpana might have gone to the embassy?"

Tam shook his head. "Not a chance. Until he's fully regenerated, he's vulnerable. Rudra Muralin is still goblin ambassador, and both would like nothing more than to see the other dead. No, Nukpana wants and needs privacy right now. He cannot-"

The door opened and a Guardian stepped inside. "There is a lady here to see you. Imala Kalis. She said that you're probably expecting her."

Tam snarled a curse in Goblin under his breath.

Vegard laid a hand casually on the pommel of his sword. "If she's trouble, I can tell her to go away."

"She's most definitely trouble, but no one has ever successfully made her leave."

Vegard grinned in a flash of teeth. "She's never been persuaded by a Guardian."

Tam's laugh was a short bark. "And you've never met the head of the goblin secret service."

Chapter 7.

When we'd arrived, the street outside Sirens had been fairly busy. Now not a soul was in sight-except for my Guardians and an equal number of equally well- armed goblins. Goblins were normally tall; these guys were taller than that, and would probably have looked just as big without all that black body armor. It was way too quiet; we were in the middle of a city and the only sound was the uneasy shifting of horses' hooves on the cobbles and the occasional equine snort. That was just wrong.

Everyone was on horseback except for Tam and me and the Guardians who had been inside Sirens. Rathdowne Street was more of a broad boulevard than a street, but it was still entirely too full of armed goblins for my taste.

The sun was down, leaving only the faintest glow, and the streetlamps had been lit. Damn, I hadn't meant to stay this long. Grim-faced Guardians were alert to any move the goblins made or were even thinking about making. I could have cut the tension with a spoon. Somehow I didn't think that the first move was going to be friendly handshakes.

I counted ten goblins in the street in front of Sirens, with a pair guarding-or blocking-both ends of Rathdowne Street. The same number of Guardians had moved to cover them. Mid was under a dusk-to-dawn curfew, so what would have normally been a crowded street in the middle of the entertainment district was conveniently empty of witnesses for whatever was about to happen.

Guardians and city watch patrolled the city to enforce the curfew. Overhead, periodic plumes of fire marked where Guardian sentry dragons prowled the sky over the city, nimble and quick enough that their riders could land pretty much anywhere they wanted. If anything happened down here, any one of the Guardians with me could instantly conjure and launch a flare. Backup was just a fireball away. One of the goblins occasionally glanced skyward. They knew what was up there. It might be a deterrent; it might not.

One horse and its goblin rider were slightly out in front of the others. Since she was the only woman in the group, I assumed that she was Imala Kalis. Unlike some of her men, she didn't look in the least bit tense; in fact, the goblin was smiling. Her face was half in shadow, but since that smile gave everyone a good look at a pair of tiny, white, and obviously sharp fangs, her intention could have been anything. But it had been my experience that social calls generally weren't made with an armed escort. Imala Kalis could have brought two dozen mounted and heavily armed men with her for protection, or it could have been for persuasion. My bet was on the latter.

"You're not going to invite me inside, Tam?" Imala Kalis's voice was like a silk-covered stiletto.

"You, possibly," Tam said coolly. "Your muscle, highly unlikely."

"You've refused my invitations, so if I wished to speak with you, you left me no choice but to come to your place of business. And considering the present political climate, I could hardly make a social call by myself."

I stepped out of the shadows to stand next to Tam. I was certain he'd prefer if I stayed out of sight, but I wanted a closer look at Imala Kalis-and I wanted her to get a closer look at me. My family doesn't like being intimidated, and while I knew Tam didn't intimidate, I wasn't going to stand in the shadows while the lady played her little games. I'd ditched the fake blades; my own razor-sharp ones were now strapped in clear view across my back. Imala Kalis's guards shifted uneasily at the sign of an armed elf. I didn't hide my magical power; I didn't flaunt it, either. It never hurts to let them know you're packing.

Imala Kalis didn't look uneasy or even a wee bit nervous. Her smile just got wider. "Mistress Benares, I presume."

I bared my teeth to match hers. "Presumption correct."

"I expected you to be taller." She swung a graceful leg over her horse's neck and dismounted, landing lightly on the cobbles.

Damned if she wasn't shorter than I was. The streetlamps gave me a good look at her face. I have to admit I was surprised there, too. The head of the goblin secret service, the agent at the top of the ladder, the lady in the big office was . . . well, cute.

Her face was oval, delicate, and pretty. It'd been my experience that goblin women were tall and coldly beautiful. Imala Kalis was petite and perky. She looked like someone's cute little sister, someone's cute and deadly little sister. And I wasn't the only one packing magic. Imala Kalis had nowhere near the level of talent that the Saghred had cursed me with, but it was obvious that she knew her way around a spell or two. She might be petite, but magically speaking she was no lightweight. Large, dark eyes shone with a keen intelligence and secrets, lots of secrets. One look at this lady told me that she probably had schemes and plots piled on top of motives, and she didn't bother with alibis, or care who she had to kill. In other words, a perfect goblin.

Imala Kalis stepped forward and extended her hand. It was gloved; so was mine. A handshake between mages was more than a greeting. Skin-on-skin contact combined with a quick questing spell could let a mage assess the true power of another. That was one reason when mages got together there was a lot of head nodding and bowing going on.

I took two steps and accepted her hand, and there were hisses, a couple of growls, and one "shit" when I did it. The last one came from Vegard. I shook Imala Kalis's hand because I wanted to and it would be rude not to. I also had three reasons why it was perfectly safe. One, I was wearing thick gloves; two, thanks to the Saghred, I was packing more than enough power to protect myself; and three, if Imala Kalis tried a questing spell on me, I'd be using my fist on her.