"So he asked to go there?"

"I don't know, Your Majesty," Pez lied again. "I imagine not, for he was unconscious, as I said. I think in his panic Jumo took him to the quietest place he could think of."

"But there's no care there," Boaz groaned. "It doesn't make sense. Even from my distant vantage, it was obvious he was seriously injured."

"You have no idea of the extent of it," Pez murmured.

Boaz strode to the door, opened it, and waited, presumably for a guard. The Zar muttered some angry orders before slamming the door. "I've sent some runners down to the Sea Temple."

Pez nodded. He knew they would find it empty. "It was a shocking outcome, Great One," he risked. "Though you know Salmeo designed it to turn out the way it did."

"Of course I do! When it comes to the harem, however, I don't have as much say as everyone seems to think. Salmeo and the Valide are the King and Queen of the harem. I am merely he whom it services." He grimaced.

"How did your mother react?"

"To be honest, I believe it was as much a shock for her as it was for myself."

"Really?" Pez didn't sound convinced.

"I asked her directly whether she had any involvement and she denied it. I know my mother well enough, Pez."

The dwarf remained silent, duly reprimanded. So far the Zar had not mentioned the use of poison. "Tariq?"

Boaz shook his head. "No, this is all Salmeo's work. It has his cruelty stamped all over it. As for the Inflictors, someone will swing for this if I don't have news of Lazar soon."

"It was not the boy's fault, High One. He looked more terrified than anyone."

"I don't care," Boaz snapped. "Woe betide him if I receive bad news about Lazar. I think you all forget that he was my frienda"one of so few I have in this place." He slumped down on a sofa and stared out his window. "I met with the odalisque Ana today," he said, as if he wanted to change the subject.

"Oh? That's unusual. Must have delighted Salmeo."

Boaz managed a small but wicked smile. "He hated it. Went rushing off to my mother, who apparently told him to obey his Zar and not run to her with complaints. No doubt she has come to the same conclusion as us, that this was Salmeo's doing. She is not pleased."

"How was Ana?"

"Devastated, although I think my company was good for her, and I would be lying if I said the outcome wasn't mutual."

"So you like her?"

Boaz turned his gaze from the window to the dwarf. "You knew I would. That's why you risked so much that night of her presentation to the Valide. What are you up to, Pez?"

Pez leaped onto a seat. "Nothing, High One. I had seen her beauty and heard from Lazar of her intelligence," he lied. "I thought she might be someone who could offer you honest friendship as much as pleasant company. I'm just glad you liked her." He hesitated briefly, then asked quietly. "May I ask a boon?"

"You will whether I give permission or not," Boaz said, not unkindly.

"I sense Ana is about to be elevated to a status beyond simple slave and I'm wondering if you would be generous enough to appoint a single slave solely to serve her."

"What? She's only been here a few days. My mother would object fiercely." Boaz shook his head. "Though I'll admit that the whims of my mother are beyond me."

Pez didn't hesitate. "No, she'll be quite firm, I imagine, so you have to order that Ana has her own slave. Your mother already dislikes Ana, I'd suggest, because of Lazar. His obvious sense of commitment to Ana, so brilliantly and rather sadly displayed by today's bit of theater, has piqued your mother's curiosity. You and I both know how he fascinates her. She wants to know what's behind his interest in Ana, what drives ita" His voice trailed away as a knock sounded at the door.

"Come," Boaz answered.

It was the head guard. "Your High One." He bowed low and long.

"Do you have news of the Spur?"

The man straightened. "Majesty, the Sea Temple is deserted, although we did find bloodstains in front of the altar."

"And no one knows of the Spur's whereabouts?" Boaz persisted, knowing it was a pointless query.

"I had men ranging throughout the harbor for any news. A child thought she saw a man being loaded into a boat but the mother was scared of us asking questions and the little one clammed up. When we tried again she denied it and claimed she had dreamed it."

"What sort of boat?"

"A rowboat, she said," the man replied doubtfully, "but there is nowhere, Majesty, that is close enough to row to where help can be sought."

"What's that island not so far away?"

Pez held his breath as the guard frowned and then brightened. "There is the Isle of Stars, High One, but that's a leper colony."

Pez belched. "And who'd go there?" he murmured.

Boaz sighed. "All right, Briz, keep trying with your men. He must be found."

"There's fifteen of them still hunting down anything they can."

"Wake me if you hear anything at all."

"Yes, High One." The guard touched hand to heart and took his leave.

"Take some rest, Boaz," Pez suggested.

"What were you going to ask me about Ana?"

Pez sighed. "The newly made eunuch," he began.

"Kett."

"Yes. He would make a good servant for Ana."

Boaz nodded. "I share your guilt, Pez. But now is not the time to be singling Ana out for special status. She has begged me to treat her the same as the other odalisques, and because of my mother's interest, I'm inclined to acquiesce."

"We should help him," Pez persisted, unsure why he felt so strongly but somehow certain that Kett was importanta"though whether to him, Ana, Boaz, or someone else he could not say.

"Leave it with me," Boaz compromised. "I will not see him badly done bya"he could begin by being directly on hand in the harem to assist her and perhaps in time we can consider the position you have suggested."

Pez nodded. It would have to be enough for now.

"You never did tell me where you've been all this time," Boaz urged, and Pez realized he was not going to be let off the hook that lightly.

TARIQ STEPPED GINGERLY through the doorway, only to be confronted by several people in various stages of decomposition. Most were olda"or at least that's how they appeareda"and each was filthy, dressed in rags. All were ravaged by starvation. He knew these to be members of the city's lost, which was how people with a conscience referred to them. Most called them the Sewer Rats. These were people wholly forgotten and ignored by all but the Vizier and his council, who wanted them "removed." Tariq himself meant "removed from the earth" and would have gladly signed their death warrants, but more conservative council members were still arguing as to whether the Isle of Starsa"already designated as a place for the unwanteda"could be used as a convenient spot where these undesirables could waste away. Tariq was fearful that Boaz would demand that Percheron take better care of its lost people. The Vizier wanted no drain on the city's budget for these fools, who were, in his opinion, too lazy or useless to lead a productive life. The city was far better off without them.

He grimaced as one toothless hag staggered toward him; fortunately for Tariq, the woman was almost blind with cataracts and he pushed her aside, kicking at another body in front of him. "Maliz!" he called, emboldened by his power over the wretches around him. He avoided a third of the damned, dropping his shoulder and callously shoving the helpless man into a wall, sending him spinning into the shadows. Tariq sneered. "Demon! I seek you."

And I hear you, came a familiar voice in his head.

I can't see you.

Come closer, Vizier.

Suddenly Tariq felt the spike of fear he had held at bay take full hold. Perspiration broke out beneath his robes and he threw off the jamoosh as much to see more easily as to cool himself. "Where?" he whispered into the darkness.

Not far.

The voice might be coming from behind him, he thought. He swung around wildly, leaping back at the same time, but no one was there, save the same pathetic souls he'd already dealt with.

"IaI have no idea where you are," he called, far less confidently. "Show me." He smelled rather than heard or saw the tiny figure that crept out of the darkness to stand before him.

"Do you see me now?" asked a frail voice.

"You?" Tariq asked, incredulous.

The feeble old man, barely able to stand and seemingly ravaged by disease, nodded. "Don't be fooled, Tariq," the man said in a wispy voice. "I am he who you feared meeting."

Tariq stepped back. His arrogance returned. "Who could be scared of you?"

"Are you testing me?" Maliz asked evenly, his fetid breath making Tariq wince. "I'd advise against it. You are beguiled by appearance alone, Vizier, and that is a mistake. You should keep in mind that I choose to walk in this form."

"Why?" Tariq asked, trying to avoid breathing through his nose.

"It suits my purposes," replied the frail man. "Who would think to find the demon Maliz here amid Percheron's unfortunates?"

"Who indeed?" echoed Tariq, lacing his voice with sarcasm.

Suddenly the more familiar voice boomed in his head. You are the one who is pathetic, Vizier. You look at me as if you could snap me in half and be done with it. Why bother? Go back to your life, Tariq. Return to the palace and be abused by Herezah and upstaged by Salmeo and treated like a filthy servant by the Zar. You are nothing to them. Nothing! An inferior, aging politician with nothing to contribute to any of their goals, save being a useful punching baga Maliz continued the stream of insults but Tariq didn't hear any more. His anger was roused as the truth of the demon's words exploded in his mind. He was nothing. They did all treat him as though he were dirt on their shoes. "Enough!" he roared.

The old man gave a black-toothed, diseased smile. "Does the truth hurt, Vizier? I can make it all so different for you."

"Prove it! Show me your powers, show me riches, give me unequivocal proof that you are who you say you are."

The old man sighed as Maliz's deep and ancient voice spoke in Tariq's mind. If I'm to show you such things, you will need to leave your body here.

Tariq baulked. "No!"

Fret not, you will still own it, still belong to it, but I can take you to places you have seen only in your dreams.

"And I will not die by leaving my body?"

No.

"Will you steal it?" Tariq persisted suspiciously.

Maliz laughed but there was no humor in it. I can't. I am not permitted by Zarab. You must offer me your body before I'm permitted to enter it as anything other than a voice.

Tariq heard the truth in Maliz's confession. "Do it, then. Show me all you can to convince me to utter the invitation you so desire."

The Vizier closed his eyes instinctively and felt a mighty push, as though all the breath were being squeezed out of him.

See for yourself, said Maliz.

Tariq knew he was trembling with feara"or was it anticipation?a"yet could not feel himself shaking. And similarly, though he told himself to open his eyes, he sensed that there was no physical movement but he could suddenly simply see.

Herezah? he exclaimed.

I thought you'd like to look in on the person whose attention you crave most.

I'm in the harem!

Not physically, Tariq.

Herezah was taking a late-night tea infusion alone but Tariq could see she wasn't sipping from her cup. She looked maudlin and disinterested. Sadly she was clotheda"he would like to have seen her naked.

I can give you that too, Maliz breathed into his mind.

Tariq ignored the way the demon read his mind. Why is she so moody tonight?

Think! You want to be Grand Vizier yet you ask the simplest of questions, which perhaps even that fool, Pez, could work out. The Vizier felt the sting of criticism. You are aware of why she is angry, depressed tonight, I promise you. Work it out. There is rarely more than this reason for any woman to be so low of mood.

A man.

Which one?

Tariq paused, nervous. Boaz?

Maliz growled his disappointment. Don't be naive, Tariq. Herezah plays her game better than any other. Try again.

Lazar.

Yes! Of course Lazar. There is no other man that interests her sexually.

She's depressed because of his flogging?

Because of his apparent death, I should think. It isn't looking good for the Spur.

Do you know everything, Maliz?

Sadly, no. I know only what I see or eavesdrop on, and everything I see or hear is open to interpretation. Fortunately I am sharp enough to get it right most times. Herezah is not so shortsighted, by the way. A lot more is at stake than her own desires.