Blood of the Mantis

Scyla had hidden her auction house the best way possible, by having it come into being only when she was ready to sell. Founder Bellowern and the other buyers had discovered only days before, through a succession of bewildered Skater messengers, where their prize could be won.

Bellowern was not the only one to have fallen by the wayside. It seemed that collecting the exotic was a hazardous business within the Empire. Nivit guessed that almost half the wealthy and the powerful who had come to Jerez in response to Scyla’s invitation were no longer there. Some, like Palearchos and Founder Bellowern, were dead. Others had been arrested by the Wasps in the Empire’s own futile attempts to find the box. More had simply decided that the stakes were not worth the gain.

Out on the lake, in the gathering dusk, Scyla’s gold now paid for a diligent team of Skater-kinden to piece together a great raft. They towed mats of reeds behind their row-boats or sailing dinghies, thus to haul the pieces of Scyla’s theatre into place. There were walls, too, a building as grand as any native home in Jerez taking shape entirely out on the water. Soon the buyers would congregate there, narrow-eyed in suspicion of each other. Soon Scyla would have to appear there too, from behind whatever mask she was wearing, and present them with the Shadow Box.

Achaeos and the others sat in Nivit’s office and planned. Jons Allanbridge had already gone to stoke up the Buoyant Maiden, now repaired in readiness for the anticipated getaway.

‘Out on the lake,’ said Thalric.

‘Of course out on the lake,’ Nivit told him. ‘Business on the lake’s standard practice hereabouts. I’d have thought you’d known that.’

Thalric sought out Sef, who was sitting close to Gaved. Despite rumours in town of strange hunters abroad at night, there had been no further attempt to take her. ‘The lake,’ Thalric said, ‘has become different to me now. What is the plan, then?’

‘Scyla will have guards,’ Tisamon said, ‘or lookouts, anyway. If nothing else, she has no guarantee that one of her genuine buyers will not try force. Water is not our element, not the best for employing stealth.’

Nivit’s expression said Speak for yourself, but he glanced about at the others, waiting.

‘Also, we cannot rely on magic,’ Achaeos remarked. Thalric snorted at that, and even Tynisa looked doubtful, but the Moth shrugged. ‘It matters not. There are other magicians, even Scyla herself. Believe in it or not, we cannot hide ourselves with magic.’

‘Nivit, can you get a boat?’ Thalric asked.

‘No problem there. We’ve all kinds of boats here. What’re you doing with it? My people can see better in the dark than you think. You’ll never get a boat there without them spotting you.’

‘I don’t need to.’ The Wasp smiled drily. ‘This is old spycraft for you: when you can’t go round the back, just walk in the front door as though you were meant to be there. Why is everyone punting out to this place, anyway?’

‘Because they want the box,’ Tynisa said, seeing where he was leading.

‘Well then, why not us? Only Scyla herself will know who’s genuine. There will be other buyers coming out of the woodwork that nobody else has guessed at. So let’s just walk in.’

‘And then?’ Gaved asked dubiously.

‘And then we take it,’ Thalric said. ‘You people want this thing, whatever it is? Then we take it. We kill Scyla, and we kill anyone else who gets in the way.’ His smile broadened in the pause that followed. ‘Squeamish, after all? Then be thankful you have someone of my profession here. This is nothing new to me. I’ll wager your Stenwold Maker would agree, and I see Master Mantis there is nodding. This is just an operation like any other. We have arrived, made our plans, gathered our information, and now the operation must be wrapped up, the objective recovered, and then we’re gone into the night. The Rekef Outlander do it every day.’

‘You’re a cold one,’ Tynisa said. Thalric’s smile only acknowledged her statement.

‘He’s right,’ said Tisamon. ‘This is how it must be.’

‘And if they won’t let us in armed?’ Tynisa asked. ‘I wouldn’t, if I were Scyla.’

Thalric displayed his open hands to her. ‘When am I unarmed?’

‘You’re assuming that we’ll trust you with this business,’ she told him. ‘You’re not one of us, Thalric. You’re only here because your own people want you dead.’

His smile withered. ‘And be glad they do, because you need me. I’m hard where the rest of you are soft, with your Collegium-bred philosophy and humanity! Not to mention the mystic, and the renegade who won’t face up to his own birthright.’

At that, Gaved had a slight smile, a fighting smile. His fingers flexed, but Thalric sneered at him.

‘Tisamon’s got steel, perhaps, but he won’t stab a man in the back like I will, and right now you need a bastard like me.’

He looked from face to face, challenging them to gainsay him. ‘I know, you don’t trust me. Do you think that wounds me? I’m Rekef, so I’m used to being distrusted.’

‘How happy you must be,’ Tynisa told him.