Dristan got a sort of worried look, staring at Michel sidelong like one might a long-absent cousin who’d come looking for money. “I think you have the wrong man.”
Michel pointed at Dristan playfully. “That, I do not. The last time we saw each other, I was getting pissed at six o’clock in the morning in a pub in Lower Landfall.”
The color suddenly drained from Dristan’s face. He looked around quickly for anyone who might overhear, and he hissed at Michel. “Pit, I remember you now. You’re the spy who was supposed to train me.”
“I am.”
“Well, you listen to me. You never came looking for me, so I got a good job with Halford, and they just gave me my own route, and I don’t want nothing to do with anything spy business. The Blackhats are finished in this town, and I won’t let you take me down with them. Hear me?”
Michel held his hands up. “I’m not trying to take you down with anything, Dristan. I just want to hire you for a single route.”
“I just said I won’t do anything for the Blackhats.”
“I’m not with the Blackhats anymore. Pit, I changed sides just like old Halford, and the Dynize are making me rich. Ask around. There’s plenty of gossip about a Blackhat turncoat.”
Dristan eyed Michel with suspicion. “What do you want?”
“Like I said, I want to hire you. I just need someone to move a package for me.”
“If you need something hauled, you go inside and talk to Halford.”
“No, I won’t. I want you. I already checked your route. You’re taking supplies to the front about forty miles north of here. It’s, what, a week round-trip?”
Dristan swallowed hard.
Michel continued. “Next time you go north, I want you to take two people with you. They can hide in your supplies, or ride out front with you, or however the pit you want to do it. Just get them past the Dynize checkpoints with that little official card I know you carry around with you.”
“And what do I get in return? Are you going to blackmail me?”
“Not in the slightest. I’m not with the Blackhats anymore, and have no interest in forcing you to do anything illicit.”
“That sounds damned illicit to me.”
Michel gave a casual shrug. “Eh. It’s more of a convenience than anything else.” He produced a heavy little bag from his pocket and thumbed four shiny yellow disks, each about the size of a coin, into one hand. They were blank, without stamp or any national marking. He tossed one to Dristan, who caught it and stared for a moment before Michel said, “Solid gold. Ask a jeweler, if you want to confirm it. Four now, six when you get your passengers past the last checkpoint. And one more if you don’t ask any damn questions.”
Dristan continued to stare at the coin. “I could buy this whole stable with what you’re offering.”
“Right now,” Michel said, “convenience is more important to me than gold. Do we have a deal?”
Dristan bit the coin, muttering under his breath. “I’m allowed to take whichever of the next four shipments suits me. You give me a day, and we have a deal.”
Michel lifted one finger. “I’ll have to get back to you on the day.”
“You have big damn balls coming back here after storming out without an explanation the other day.” Ichtracia stood in her bedroom, watching Michel through puffy, red eyes that told him she’d either been crying or smoking mala. By the smell, it was the latter. She wore a dressing gown and slippers, and a discarded dress on the floor told Michel that she’d recently returned from somewhere.
Michel gave her his most charming smile, fingering the small bottle of chloroform wrapped in a rag in his left pocket. “I apologize.”
“I should turn you inside out.”
The words had no bite to them, and Michel wondered if maybe she had been crying. There was a defeated tone to her voice. He immediately began to worry, hoping this had nothing to do with him. Perhaps she’d just returned from another fight with her grandfather?
“I came to apologize and give you an explanation,” Michel said.
Ichtracia took a deep breath, and he waited for her to dismiss him without a word, but she let it out in a frustrated sigh instead. “I’d like to know why you left the other day. I could have used company.”
That tone was full of more hurt than Michel cared to plumb, and he found himself shocked by the rawness of it. He circled around her toward the window, glancing out into the street. “Are we alone?”
“I sent the footmen out to get me dinner. We have a few minutes.”
“Will you promise that you won’t turn me inside out until I’ve explained myself fully?”
Ichtracia’s eyes narrowed. She wasn’t wearing her gloves, but Michel didn’t know if they weren’t in the pockets of her dressing gown. He touched the bottle of chloroform and wondered just how stupid he really was. “I promise,” she said.
“I need to clarify something first. Your nickname is Mara, correct?”
“It is,” she said through clenched teeth.
“Is that a common nickname?” He already knew the answer to that.
“Why would it be?” There was genuine anger in her eyes, and Michel moved on quickly.
“I need to know, because I’m here for a woman named Mara.” Michel’s heart began to hammer, and he wondered if perhaps he was committing suicide. If there was even the slightest chance he was wrong, he might be dead before he could reach the door. “Look, I didn’t come to the Dynize to get back at the Blackhats who betrayed me. I’ve never even worked for them—not really. I came to the Dynize because my boss told me to retrieve a woman named Mara and get her out of Landfall. He told me that she was in incredible danger.”
Ichtracia’s jaw tightened and she reached into her pockets, producing her gloves. Michel leapt toward her, hands out front. “Wait! You were in contact with a woman, probably with sorcery, until about a year ago. You spoke to her again perhaps”—he grimaced—“two months ago. She may have warned you I was coming, she may not have, but I was sent to get you out.”
Ichtracia’s eyes wandered the room, her brow furrowing, and the gloves slipped from her fingers back into her pockets. She took several steps over to the bed and sat down, staring at her hands for a moment before looking up at Michel. “I shouldn’t have ever answered when she spoke to me,” she said softly.
“But you did.”
“Because she seemed to know me. I told her things—too many things—and I have betrayed my country.”
This was not going well, not at all. “I don’t know what you told her. All I know is that I was asked to get you out. Look, I had no idea you were the woman I was sent for until I overheard Sedial the other day. I’ve been looking in vain for Mara, only to find out I’m sharing her bed. That’s why I left. I had to gather my thoughts.”
“I see.” Ichtracia’s eyes focused on Michel. “You were sent to save me?”
Her voice took on an angry tone that Michel didn’t like. “That’s what I was told.”
“From what?” she demanded.
“I have no idea. Danger. That’s all I know.”
Ichtracia leaned toward him. “You have nowhere to take me. These are my people. I never told the voice in my head that I wanted to leave. I just told her I didn’t want war.”
“Well, she thinks you’re going to get killed if you stay in Landfall.”
“And that’s supposed to surprise me?” she asked flatly. Michel had the sudden realization that there was something going on beneath the surface that he knew nothing about. More information that Taniel had withheld? Or something new? “My whole purpose is to die.”
Did she mean as a tool of the state? Michel took a half step toward her, lowering his hands until he could feel the bottle in his pocket. He grimaced inwardly. No, he was not that stupid. Beyond the danger of chloroforming a Privileged, pulling shit like that would destroy any trust that had grown between them the last few days. He realized, quite suddenly, that he couldn’t do that.