"Kelin," she said. "It has been too long. How's business?"

Lilia turned to see a short, stocky man with squinty eyes standing half in, half out of a doorway. His lips parted and crooked teeth flashed. If it was a smile, there was no friendliness about it.

"Very good," he replied. "I'd invite you in," his eyes flickered to Lilia, "but I see you have better company to distract you." good," he replied. "I'd invite you in," his eyes flickered to Lilia, "but I see you have better company to distract you."

"I do, indeed." Naki stepped forward and hooked an arm in Lilia's. "But thank you for considering it," she called back over her shoulder, taking a step forward and guiding Lilia after the serving woman.

They were led upstairs and to a small room with a roomy two-seater chair and a tiny fireplace with a brazier sitting on the tiles before it. A narrow window allowed a mix of moonlight and lamplight in, which was barely challenged by the small shaded lamps hanging either side of the fireplace. The air smelled of fragrant smoke and something faintly sour.

"Tiny, but cosy and private," Naki said, gesturing at the room.

"Who was that man?" Lilia asked as they settled on the chair.

Naki's nose wrinkled. "A friend of the family. He did my father a favour once, and now acts like he's a relation." She shrugged. "He's all right though, once you understand what he values." She turned to Lilia. "That's the secret to people: knowing what they value."

"What do you value?" Lilia asked.

Her friend tilted her head to the side as she considered. The lamplight set her profile glowing softly. She looks best at night She looks best at night, Lilia found herself thinking. It's her natural time of day. It's her natural time of day.

"Friendship," Naki said. "Trust. Loyalty." She leaned closer, her smile widening. "Love." Lilia's breath caught in her throat, but her friend leaned away again. "You?"

Lilia breathed in, then out, but her head was spinning. And we haven't even started on the roet. And we haven't even started on the roet. "The same," she said, afraid she was taking too long to answer. "The same," she said, afraid she was taking too long to answer. Love? Is it possible? Do I love Naki? I definitely have more fun when I'm with her, and there's something about her that's both exciting and a bit scary. Love? Is it possible? Do I love Naki? I definitely have more fun when I'm with her, and there's something about her that's both exciting and a bit scary.

Naki was staring at her intently. She said nothing; she just stared. Then a knock came from the door. Naki looked away and opened it with magic. Lilia felt a warring relief and disappointment as the serving woman brought in a tray carrying a bottle of wine, goblets and an ornate box.

"Ah!" Naki said eagerly, ignoring the serving woman's bow and retreat. She picked up the box and dumped a handful of the contents into the brazier. A flame flared among the coals, no doubt fired by Naki's magic, and smoke began to curl into the air.

Lilia busied herself opening and pouring the wine. She handed a goblet to Naki as the girl returned to the seat. Naki lifted the glass.

"What should we dedicate the wine to?" she asked. "Well, of course: trust, loyalty and love."

"Trust, loyalty and love," Lilia repeated. They both sipped the wine.

A comfortable silence fell between them. The smoke from the brazier wafted across the room. Naki leaned forward and breathed deeply. Chuckling, Lilia did the same, feeling as if her thoughts were knotted muscles slowly loosening and unravelling. She leaned back in the chair and sighed.

"Thank you," she found herself saying.

Naki turned to smile at her. "You like it here? I thought you might."

Lilia looked around and shrugged. "It's all right. I was thanking you for ... for ... for making me less wound up, and showing me how to have fun, and ... just being good company."

Naki's smile faded and was replaced by a thoughtful look. Then a familiar glint of mischief entered her eyes, and Lilia could not help bracing herself. Whenever her friend got that look, what followed was likely to be surprising, and not a little confronting.

This time Naki leaned in and quickly but firmly kissed Lilia.

Lips warm and tingling, Lilia stared at her friend in astonishment and, she was all too aware, hope. Her heart was racing. Her mind spun. That was certainly surprising That was certainly surprising, she thought. But, like everything Naki does, not as confronting as it seemed it might be. But, like everything Naki does, not as confronting as it seemed it might be.

Slowly, deliberately, Naki did it again, only this time she did not move away. A rush of sensations and thoughts went through Lilia, all of them pleasant and none that could be explained away by the roet smoke or the wine. The wine ... The wine ... She was still holding the goblet and wanted not to be. She was still holding the goblet and wanted not to be. I think ... I think ... Naki's arm had snaked around her waist and she wanted to reach out to her friend Naki's arm had snaked around her waist and she wanted to reach out to her friend should I still call Naki "friend" after tonight? should I still call Naki "friend" after tonight? Leaning to one side, she tried to set the goblet on the floor. Leaning to one side, she tried to set the goblet on the floor. I think I I think I am am in love. in love.

But she must have set the glass on an uneven surface, for she heard a clunk and slosh as it fell over.

Uh, oh, she thought. But though she did not make a sound, she heard a faint voice utter it for her. A voice coming from the direction of the fireplace.

That's strange.

She could not help herself. Tilting her head, she looked at the fireplace. Somewhere within the cavity something flickered. Looking closer, she got the strangest impression that something blinked at her.

Someone is watching us.

A shiver of horror ran down her spine and she pushed Naki back a little.

"What is it?" Naki said, her voice even more deep and throaty than usual.

"I saw ..." Lilia shook her head, tore her eyes away from the fireplace, which looked dark and ordinary now, and looked at Naki. "I ... I don't think I like this place after all. It doesn't seem very ... private."

Naki searched her gaze, then smiled. "Fair enough. Let's finish the wine and get out of here."

"I spilled mine ..."

"Don't worry." Naki leaned down and picked up the goblet. "They're used to little accidents happening here, though usually when the customers are a bit more inebriated than we are." She refilled the goblet, then held it out to Lilia and smiled. "To love."

Lilia smiled back, feeling the buoyant, exhilarating mood return and her earlier discomfort fade.

"To love."

CHAPTER 8.

CONSEQUENCES.

The small girl sitting on the edge of the bed was coughing hard, pausing only to take a gasping breath. As Lorkin gave cure-laced sweets and Kalia's instructions to her mother a magician who, he knew, was aligned with Kalia's faction the girl looked up at him. He saw in her eyes a pity quite different to the sympathy he felt for her. She pities me? Why would she pity She pities me? Why would she pity me me?

The mother nodded, took her daughter's hand and moved away. He watched as she walked over to Kalia. Though it had happened before, with other patients, he still felt his stomach sink.

Kalia was busy and he didn't care to watch as the woman checked what he'd told her. He moved on to the next patient, an old woman with dark circles under her eyes and a more concerning, wrenching cough. Now that the chill fever had spread through the city, the Care Room was busy night and day, and Kalia had been forced to involve him in the treating of it. Most Traitors accepted this without question, but now and then someone could not bring themself to trust him or pretended not to, in order to needle him.

"How many times do I have to tell you?" Kalia said loudly. The old woman's eyes flickered away and then back to Lorkin.

"She means you," she muttered.

Lorkin nodded. "Thanks." He straightened and turned to find Kalia striding toward him. One hand was clasped around something, and she brandished it at him. The mother and daughter trailed behind.

"I told you no more than four a day!" she declared. "Do you want to poison this child?"

Lorkin looked down at the girl, who was grinning widely, excited by the scene she was a part of.

"Or course not," he replied. "Who could ever harm such a pretty child?" The girl's smile faltered. She liked to be flattered, he guessed, but knew her mother would not like her to respond in a friendly way. Not knowing what to do, she looked up at her mother, then frowned and regarded him suspiciously. "I did wonder why you told me to give her more sweets than the other children," he added, unable to resist hinting that Kalia might be favouring her friends with more of the limited supply of cures.

"I did not not tell you to give her six!" Kalia's voice rose to a higher note. tell you to give her six!" Kalia's voice rose to a higher note.

"Actually, you did," a huskier voice replied.

Startled by the new voice, Lorkin turned to look at the old woman, who gazed back at Kalia unflinchingly. He felt a small surge of hope. However, if Kalia was dismayed she was hiding it well. She looked as if she was humbly thinking back on her instructions, but her eyes were dark and calculating.

Whoever the old woman was, she was influential enough that Kalia hadn't dared to claim she was hard of hearing, or mistaken. Lorkin decided he had to learn the identity of this unexpected ally, as soon as he was free to.

"Perhaps you are right," Kalia said, smiling. "We have been so busy here. We are all tired. I am sorry," she said to the old woman, then she whirled around to face the mother and daughter. "I apologise. Here ..." She gave them the sweets and prattled away as she herded the pair toward the door.

"She must must be tired," the old woman muttered, "if she thought anybody would believe that little charade." be tired," the old woman muttered, "if she thought anybody would believe that little charade."

"Not everyone is as smart or observant as you are," Lorkin replied.

The old woman's eyes brightened as she smiled. "No. If they were, she would never have been elected."

Lorkin concentrated on checking the old woman's pulse and temperature, listened to her lungs and examined her throat. He also surreptitiously listened with his magical senses to confirm his assessment. Which was that the old woman was surprisingly healthy apart from the chill fever symptoms. Finally, after giving advice and cures, Lorkin quietly thanked the old woman.

Not long after he'd moved to the next patient, he heard a hum of interest in the room and looked around. All eyes were on the entrance, where a stretcher was floating into the room followed by a magician. The woman was unsuccessfully trying to smother a smile. Looking at the stretcher, Lorkin felt his heart skip.

Evar!

He hadn't seen his friend in some days. The rumour in the men's room was that Evar had found himself a lover. They'd laid bets on whether Evar would eventually swagger back into the men's room and collect his things, or limp in with a broken heart. None of them had wagered that he would reappear unconscious on a stretcher.

Kalia had noticed and hurried over to examine him. Flipping aside the blanket carelessly, she revealed a completely naked Evar to the room. Smothered giggles and gasps came from all around. Lorkin felt a stab of anger as Kalia didn't bother to re-cover the young man.

"Nothing's broken," the smiling magician told Kalia.

"Let me be the judge of that," Kalia replied. She squeezed and poked, then placed a hand on Evar's forehead. "Over-drained," she pronounced. She looked up at the magician. "You?"

The woman rolled her eyes. "Not likely. It was Leota."

"She ought to be more careful." Kalia sniffed disdainfully, then looked around the room. "He's not sick, and should not take up a bed. Put him over there, on the floor. He'll recover in his own time."

The magician and stretcher moved over to the back of the room where, to Lorkin's relief, Evar would be hidden behind the rows of beds. The woman was grinning as she strode out, not bothering to pull the blanket back over Evar. Kalia ignored the new patient, and scowled at Lorkin when he started toward his friend.

"Leave him be," she ordered.

Lorkin bided his time. Eventually Kalia disappeared into the storeroom for more cures. He slipped over to Evar and was surprised to find the young man's eyes open. Evar smiled ruefully at Lorkin.

"I'm okay," he said. "Not as bad as it looks."

Lorkin pulled the blanket up to cover his friend. "What happened?"

"Leota."

"She used black magic on you?"

"She took me to bed."

"And?"

"Same thing. Except more fun." There was a shrug in Evar's voice. His eyes focused somewhere beyond Lorkin and the ceiling. "It was worth it."

"To have all your energy drained out?" Lorkin could not hide the disbelief and anger from his voice.

Evar looked at him. "How else am I going to get into a woman's bed, eh? Look at me. I'm scrawny and a magician. Hardly good breeding material, and nobody trusts male magicians."

Lorkin sighed and shook his head. "You're not scrawny and where I come from, being a magician and a natural would make you very very desirable breeding material." desirable breeding material."

"Yet you left," Evar pointed out. "And chose to stay here for the rest of your life."

"Times like these I wonder if I was sold a lie. Equal society indeed. Will this Leota be punished?"

Evar shook his head. Then his eyes lit up. "I moved. I haven't done that in hours."

Sighing again, Lorkin stood up. "I have to get back to work."

Evar nodded. "Don't worry about me. A bit of sleep and I'll be fine." As Lorkin walked away, he called out. "I still think it was worth it. You doubt me, go have a look at her. Without her clothes."

The incident with the cures had been irritating, but Lorkin was used to it. What had been done to Evar filled him with a simmering rage. Since Tyvara had warned him not to accept any invitations to a magician's bed he had turned down more propositions than usual. At least he now had a better idea which magicians were in Kalia's faction.

How stupid do they think I am? That's how Riva tried to kill me. He felt a stab of guilt. He felt a stab of guilt. I should have warned Evar. But I didn't think they'd harm Kalia's nephew. I should have warned Evar. But I didn't think they'd harm Kalia's nephew. Well, they hadn't harmed him: they Leota had drained Evar to the point of helplessness, then humiliated him by making his mistake public. Well, they hadn't harmed him: they Leota had drained Evar to the point of helplessness, then humiliated him by making his mistake public.

Even so, Evar should have known better. He had known they'd find a way to punish him for taking Lorkin to the stone-makers' caves. Surely it had been obvious what Leota intended when she'd invited him to her bed?

Lorkin shook his head. Perhaps Evar was simply too trusting of his own people. That this was how they repaid his trust disgusted Lorkin, and for the rest of the day he switched back and forth between wondering if he had been wise to come to Sanctuary, and questioning whether the Traitors could ever be made to see how unequal their society really was.

Winter was slowly tightening its grip on Imardin. Standing water froze overnight. The crunch of ice underfoot was strangely satisfying, and brought back childhood memories. You had to avoid the deeper puddles You had to avoid the deeper puddles, Sonea thought, as they usually only had a skin of ice, and if the water underneath got into your shoes your feet would hurt from the cold all day. as they usually only had a skin of ice, and if the water underneath got into your shoes your feet would hurt from the cold all day.

Getting water in her shoes hadn't been a concern for many years. The boots made for magicians were the best in the city and as soon as they showed the slightest sign of wear, servants would fetch replacements. Which is annoying when you've just worn them in. Which is annoying when you've just worn them in. Unfortunately, the shoes she was wearing now were neither weatherproof nor worn in to suit her feet. They were cast-offs part of the disguise she wore when venturing out to meet Cery. Unfortunately, the shoes she was wearing now were neither weatherproof nor worn in to suit her feet. They were cast-offs part of the disguise she wore when venturing out to meet Cery.

The basket of laundry in her arms was fuller and heavier than usual. She'd had to stop and pick up sheets once already, when they'd tumbled off the top of the pile to the ground. Of course, she couldn't use magic to hold or catch them. That would have revealed that she was more than a delivery woman.

She slowed and ducked into an alleyway. It was a shortcut that the locals often used. Today it was empty but for one other woman hurrying toward her, carrying a small child. As Sonea drew closer, the woman looked up at her. Sonea resisted the urge to pull the hood further over her face. The woman's gaze flickered to something behind Sonea and she frowned, then looked quickly back at Sonea as she passed.

Was that a look of warning?

Resisting the temptation to look back, Sonea slowed her pace and listened carefully. Sure enough, she picked up the soft scrape and pad of footfalls several paces behind her.

Am I being followed? The alley was well used, so someone walking behind her was not so strange. Something else must have alarmed the woman. Perhaps she was naturally suspicious. Perhaps not. Sonea could not afford to ignore the possibility that the woman had reason to be. She quickened her pace. The alley was well used, so someone walking behind her was not so strange. Something else must have alarmed the woman. Perhaps she was naturally suspicious. Perhaps not. Sonea could not afford to ignore the possibility that the woman had reason to be. She quickened her pace.

Reaching the end of the alley, she turned in the opposite direction to the one she had intended to take, crossed the road and entered another alley. This one was wider and filled with workers from the industries housed on either side. Wood for furnaces had been piled up against walls. Barrels of oils and noxious liquids, huge tightly bound bundles of rags, and wooden crates waited to be carried inside. The people and obstructions forced her to take a winding, dodging path until she reached a tower of crates filled with some kind of wilted plant that smelled like the sea.