Michel gingerly touched the side of his head. It hadn’t occurred to him that the minister of scrolls might not actually be that powerful of a position. If Meln-Yaret was simply a hound used to find enemy spies rather than a spymaster in his own right, Michel may have badly misplaced his bets. He needed a powerful patron if he was going to find Taniel’s informant.
“On the other hand,” Meln-Yaret continued after a moment’s silence, “I may be able to work with your demands. Tell me, why should I trust you? You’ve already admitted to being a spy. Shouldn’t I assume you’re still working for the Fatrastans? This could simply be your way to get into my good graces.”
There was a glint in Meln-Yaret’s eyes that Michel didn’t particularly like. He swallowed, holding Yaret’s gaze. “Give me the chance to earn that trust.”
“Why? Why shouldn’t I just torture you for your information? Or hand you over to the bone-eyes?”
Michel tried not to let his fear show at the mention of bone-eyes. He knew what a bone-eye was capable of, but that information was something he didn’t want to let on. “Because I came to you in good faith. You offer a reward for service. Is this the reward of which you speak? Because if it is, word will get out sooner or later. Even sympathizers will grow wary of you, and rumors will spread that the Dynize ministers are not true to their word.”
Yaret exchanged a glance with Tenik, tongue in cheek.
“He has balls,” Tenik said with a shrug. “But he’s still a spy. What good is goodwill if it is used against us?”
“Goodwill is a double-edged sword,” Yaret admitted.
Michel leaned forward, ignoring the blood dripping from his chin. “Do I seem like someone who would be more useful as a willing participant, or forced to aid you under duress?”
Meln-Yaret did not answer the question. “Can you tell me where Lindet keeps her personal files?”
The question caught Michel off guard. “I can’t.”
“Can you tell me where the gunsmiths fled, so that we might capture them and use their expertise to improve our armies?”
“I can’t,” Michel answered again. For all his bravado, he knew he was on shaky ground. Meln-Yaret obviously had goals. If Michel couldn’t help him with those, then Meln-Yaret might just hand him off to someone else. Someone like Forgula.
With each answer, Meln-Yaret looked increasingly doubtful. He sighed, shaking his head. “Caches and safe houses are not enough. You’re asking me to put a lot of trust in you, and in return all I receive are promises. Give me something, Michel, and we can begin a relationship. Until then …” Meln-Yaret trailed off.
Michel wracked his brain. His bluster about seeing a lot as a spy had been mostly that—bluster. He certainly knew some secrets, and he had no doubt that he could be useful to the Dynize in the long term. But immediate evidence of his good intentions? His eyes fell on the Gold Rose as Meln-Yaret turned it over and over again between his fingers.
“Tell me,” Michel said, “did Lindet destroy the third floor of the Blackhat Archives when she left?”
Meln-Yaret stopped twirling the Gold Rose and looked up sharply. Michel had hit upon something. “She did not.”
“Do you know what’s up there?”
“We have … an inkling.”
“Secrets. A lot of them. I assume it’s heavily warded. It will take your Privileged months, if not years, to break into it without destroying the contents. You want goodwill? You want trust?” Michel took a fraction of a second to study Yaret. His expressions and composure reminded him once more of Captain Blasdell, and Michel decided to take a gamble. “The Gold Rose is a key,” he said simply. “It’ll open the gate to the third floor. It worked for me. I don’t see why it wouldn’t work for you.” He silently prayed that Lindet’s Privileged hadn’t had time to change the wards before they fled the city.
Meln-Yaret looked down at the Rose in his hand. “Well. As simple as that?”
“As simple as that.”
The two Dynize exchanged a glance, and Meln-Yaret addressed Tenik with a clever smile. “Sedial will be furious. All right, Michel. Assuming this works, I will put you on a leash and let you go to work. You’ll have freedom of movement, a Household, protection, and the backing of my name. I’ll see what I can do about the families that we have rounded up. The more results you get me, the more likely I’ll be able to free noncombatants.”
As simple as that. Michel barely allowed himself to breathe. “Is there anywhere you want me to start?”
“There is. I have several hundred men combing the city to find out who’s responsible for the recent bombings. We’ve captured countless Blackhats and partisans, and not a single person can tell me who carried out or ordered them. A Household Captain of the Guard was killed less than an hour ago, and it has the ministers nervous.”
“I’m not an investigator,” Michel warned. “If it’s not the Blackhats, I won’t be able to help you.”
“Then rule them out,” Yaret responded.
Michel hesitated. He already suspected that the perpetrators were a Blackhat cell, but he didn’t have the slightest idea where they were holed up or who they were led by. Perhaps the mysterious Gold Rose? Regardless, he had to say yes. Michel needed to gain stature within the Dynize as quickly as possible—lengthen that leash and get to know the Dynize officials. The more he infiltrated their government, the more likely he was to find Taniel’s informant.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Michel promised.
CHAPTER 16
Is spying always this boring?” Tenik asked.
Michel stood at a window in a stuffy tenement room in the industrial quarter of Lower Landfall. He gazed through a slit in the curtains, watching the entrance of a tenement across the street while he listened to the sound of the midafternoon traffic. Before the war, this whole district was choked with smoke and the sound of carts, people, and factories. Now it was almost quiet with the factories empty and the traffic sparse.
Michel turned away from the window just long enough to glance at the man sitting in the corner behind him. Devin-Tenik looked even more like a Palo once he had shed his turquoise uniform for a brown cotton suit and flatcap, and he lounged on the floor as if it were more comfortable there than in a chair. Michel answered the question, “Most of being a spy is waiting, watching, and listening. So yes, it’s always this boring.”
Tenik flipped a coin in the air and caught it. He slapped it on the back of his wrist but didn’t bother looking at the result before flipping it again. He’d been doing so for about four hours, and Michel wasn’t sure whether to strangle him or find something to take his own mind off the tedium.
“Are you supposed to follow me everywhere?” Michel asked.
Tenik smiled. “That’s the idea. Your Gold Rose opened the third floor of the Millinery. You have earned Yaret’s trust, and you are now part of his Household. But you’re still a foreigner. For your safety, I am to be your bodyguard, guide, and assistant.”
“Bodyguard, eh?” Michel muttered. Tenik didn’t appear to be a soldier, but he was lean and fit and walked with the confidence of someone who knew how to handle a fight. Michel suspected that his job was less “bodyguard” and more “guard.” Michel wondered how long it would take for him to become fully trusted. Years, perhaps. He didn’t have that much time. Until then, he could make use of an assistant and guide.
“What do you mean when you say ‘part of Yaret’s Household’?”
“Dynize society is based around Households,” Tenik explained. “A Household revolves around a Name.” He flipped his coin, caught it, and pointed a finger at Michel. “You are the newest member of Yaret’s Household.”