The Ambassador's Mission

BY TRUDI CANAVAN

The Black Magician Trilogy

The Magicians’ Guild

The Novice

The High Lord

Age of the Five

Priestess of the White

Last of the Wilds

Voice of the Gods

The Magician’s Apprentice

The Traitor Spy Trilogy

The Ambassador’s Mission

Copyright © 2010 by Trudi Canavan

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Orbit

Hachette Book Group

237 Park Avenue, New York, NY 10017

www.HachetteBookGroup.com

(http://twitter.com/LittleBrown)

First eBook Edition: April 2010

First US Edition: May 2010

Orbit is an imprint of Hachette Book Group. The Orbit name and logo are trademarks of Little, Brown Book Group Limited.

The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

eISBN: 978-0-316-08925-8

Contents

By Trudi Canavan

Copyright Page

Part One

Chapter 1 The Old and the New

Chapter 2 Questionable Connections

Chapter 3 Safe Places, Dangerous Destinations

Chapter 4 New Commitments

Chapter 5 Preparations

Chapter 6 The Hearing

Chapter 7 A Journey Begins

Chapter 8 Signs

Chapter 9 Seeking Truths

Chapter 10 A New Challenge

Chapter 11 Tantalising Information

Chapter 12 Discoveries

Chapter 13 The Trap

Chapter 14 Unexpected Allies

Chapter 15 Late-Night Visitors

Part Two

Chapter 16 Hunter

Chapter 17 Hunted

Chapter 18 The Traitor

Chapter 19 In Hiding

Chapter 20 Allies and Enemies

Chapter 21 Welcome Assistance

Chapter 22 A Reunion

Chapter 23 New Helpers

Chapter 24 The Allies you Need

Chapter 25 The Messenger’s News

Chapter 26 A Long Night

Chapter 27 The Trap is Sprung

Chapter 28 Questions

Chapter 29 Answers, and More Questions

Epilogue

Glossary

Acknowledgements

PART ONE

CHAPTER 1

THE OLD AND THE NEW

The most successful and quoted piece by the poet Rewin, greatest of the rabble to come out of the New City, was called Citysong. It captured what was heard at night in Imardin, if you took the time to stop and listen: an unending muffled and distant combination of sounds. Voices. Singing. A laugh. A groan. A gasp. A scream.

In the darkness of Imardin’s new Quarter a man remembered the poem. He stopped to listen, but instead of absorbing the city’s song he concentrated on one discordant echo. A sound that didn’t belong. A sound that didn’t repeat. He snorted quietly and continued on.

A few steps later a figure emerged from the shadows before him. The figure was male and loomed over him menacingly. Light caught the edge of a blade.

“Yer money,” a rough voice said, hard with determination.

The man said nothing and remained still. He might have appeared frozen in terror. He might have appeared deep in thought.

When he did move, it was with uncanny speed. A click, a snap of sleeve, and the robber gasped and sank to his knees. A knife clattered on the ground. The man patted him on the shoulder.

“Sorry. Wrong night, wrong target, and I don’t have time to explain why.”

As the robber fell, face-down, on the pavement, the man stepped over him and walked on. Then he paused and looked over his shoulder, to the other side of the street.

“Hai! Gol. You’re supposed to be my bodyguard.”

From the shadows another large figure emerged and hurried to the man’s side.

“Reckon you don’t have much need for one, Cery. I’m getting slow in my old age. I should be payin’ you to protect me.”

Cery scowled. “Your eyes and ears are still sharp, aren’t they?”

Gol winced. “As sharp as yours,” he retorted sullenly.

“Too true.” Cery sighed. “I should retire. But Thieves don’t get to retire.”

“Except by not being Thieves any more.”

“Except by becoming corpses,” Cery corrected.

“But you’re no ordinary Thief. I reckon there’s different rules for you. You didn’t start the usual way, so why would you finish the usual way?”

“Wish everyone else agreed with you.”

“So do I. City’d be a better place.”

“With everyone agreeing with you? Ha!”

“Better for me, anyway.”

Cery chuckled and resumed the journey. Gol followed a short distance behind. He hides his fear well, Cery thought. Always has. But he must be thinking that we both might not make it through this night. Too many of the others have died.

Over half the Thieves – the leaders of underworld criminal groups in Imardin – had perished these last few years. Each in different ways and most from unnatural causes. Stabbed, poisoned, pushed from a tall building, burned in a fire, drowned or crushed in a collapsed tunnel. Some said a single person was responsible, a vigilante they called the Thief Hunter. Others believed it was the Thieves themselves, settling old disputes.