“No. Probably not. So you never get sick?”
“Never.”
“Lucky you.”
Skellin grinned. “It’s been pleasant talking to you again, Ceryni of Northside. I hope we will meet again soon, and that I have good news for you.”
Cery nodded. “Looking forward to it. Safe journey home.”
“You, too.”
The other Thief turned to his bodyguard and strode away. Stepping out from the shelter, Cery drew his collar in close to keep out the rain and walked over to Gol. The big man said nothing at first, falling into step beside Cery as they headed back. Then, when Sunny House was far behind them, he asked how the meeting had gone. Cery went over the details.
“I didn’t know Skellin’s territory stretched that far,” Gol interrupted.
“Neither did I,” Cery replied. “It’s been too long since we found out where the boundaries were.”
“I can find out for you.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
Gol chuckled. “Of course you were.”
Sonea rose from her chair and paced to the window. Sliding across the paper screen, she stared out over the Guild and sighed. Perhaps Lorkin hadn’t found the blood ring among his possessions. Perhaps it was still at the Guild House in Arvice, deep in his travelling chest.
That thought left her uneasy. With Dannyl and Lorkin both absent from the Guild House, was it possible a snooping slave might find the ring? If it fell into the wrong hands … she shuddered. One of the Sachakan Ichani who had invaded Kyralia twenty years ago had caught Rothen and made a gem from his blood, then used it to send Rothen mental images of all his victims. If Lorkin’s abductor found the ring and used it to send her images of her son being tortured …
Her heart froze.
She paced away from the window, circling the room. Her shift at the hospice wouldn’t begin for another few hours. The Healers there had grown bolder since offering to conceal her absence if she needed to venture into the city. They had grown almost annoyingly protective of her, pestering her with questions about how much sleep she was getting if she arrived early for a shift or stayed later.
At once she felt the deep pit of anxiety in her stomach open up and thoughts of what might happen to her son threatened to spill out. She forced her mind elsewhere.
It had been only a few days since their failed attempt to catch the woman, but it felt like far longer. She considered the passage entrance they’d found. If the woman had access to the Thieves’ Road did that mean she had links to a Thief? It would have done once, but the old rules and restrictions were no longer in place in Imardin’s underworld.
Another possibility disturbed her. If the woman had access to the Thieves’ Road, did she know about the tunnels under the Guild?
A knock at the main door interrupted Sonea’s thoughts. She rose and hurried toward it. Perhaps it was Rothen. Maybe he had news of Lorkin. Even if it were someone else, at least they’d provide some distraction from her thoughts. A small twist and push of magic unlatched the door and swung it inward.
Regin stood outside. He inclined his head politely.
“Black Magician Sonea,” he said.
“Lord Regin.” She hoped her disappointment didn’t show in her face.
“Have you heard anything?” he asked, lowering his voice.
“No.”
He nodded and looked away. It struck her then that it was unexpectedly considerate of him to stop by and enquire about Lorkin, and she felt guilty for the hostility she felt toward him. She opened her mouth to thank him, but he continued on without realising she had been about to speak.
“I’ve made some enquiries and they’ve led to a few small ideas,” he said, then shrugged and looked at her. “Probably not worth the trouble and they may clash with your friend’s plans, but I thought I should share them with you.”