“Who are your companions?” She arched a finely plucked eyebrow in a face as flawless as the porcelain vase behind her head. I wondered how old she was; her chestnut hair was finely brindled with white and I could see a tracery of fine lines around her keen gray eyes.
Viltred introduced us. The flunkey returned with the wine and was dismissed, our elegant hostess pouring for us herself.
“How are the children?” inquired Viltred with what sounded like genuine interest.
“Tref’s traveling through Ensaimin, painting portraits of all the little lordlings with pretensions of grandeur.” Mellitha smoothed her expensive gown, bright with embroidered flowers, over her generous curves, and seated herself again.
“Tia’s still in Hadrumal with her father; she’s learning the book-binding trade and they’ve agreed she’ll take over when he retires in a year or so. Sanan is getting married soon, a lovely girl from Col; her father owns a string of inns so they’ll move there after the wedding. Patrin’s soldiering in Lescar, which I’m less than happy about, as you can imagine, but I heard from her a few weeks since. She’ll be back in Relshaz for Solstice and I’m going to try and persuade her to come into the business with me now.”
“I would certainly be happier if she did that,” nodded Viltred.
Mellitha laughed. “There’s no use you sounding so fatherly; I’ve told you often enough I’ve no idea if she’s your daughter.”
I looked at Viltred; so the old bird had spread his wings in his younger days, it seemed, raising his crest to good effect, and he must have had some song to charm a woman like this. Mellitha was evidently a woman of substance and independence, no mere ornament in her silks and scents.
Shiv coughed. “I’m afraid this isn’t just a social call, ma-dam.”
She dimpled a smile at him. “I didn’t think it was. How can I help you?” She smoothed a hand over her immaculate coiffure and was suddenly all business.
Shiv told her our tale with admirable conciseness, given the frequent interruptions by Viltred, not all of which I thought relevant. Mellitha surprised me a little by asking for my observations and I could see her eyes were alert, notwithstanding her demure self-possession. In a way it reminded me of conversations with my patron’s current paramour, Lady Channis, one of those daunting women whose beauty is nevertheless a lesser asset than her wits. Halice and Livak sat silently sipping the cool white wine and occasionally exchanging a glance. I saw Mellitha looking at them as they shared one of those moments and realized this was a woman who was going to want to see both sides of this coin before she put it in her purse “Do you think you can help us?” Shiv said finally.
“I can certainly make some enquiries about foreigners in black livery for you.” Mellitha moved to seat herself at an elegant desk and took out smoothly expensive reed paper and ink. “People like that should stand out, even in Relshaz ”
“Be careful about drawing attention to yourself,” warned Shiv. “These are dangerous men, killers.”
“I’m a tax contractor,” said Mellitha confidently “I’m supposed to ask questions and I have plenty of people working for me who understand discretion.”
“You mean you don’t get all your information through cunning spells and infallible sorcery?” Viltred laughed “That’s what I heard last time I was here ”
“You’re a mage?” I couldn’t help the surprise in my question.
“I am, but that’s not my main business. Still, I make sure I’m seen working enough magic to keep the rumor mill fed. It comes in useful.” Mellitha smiled sunnily. “Most folk don’t see any point in lying about their income when they’re convinced you can see through desks and read their ledgers.”
Livak laughed and I saw she was looking more at ease recognizing Mellitha as a woman molded from the same clay as herself. Should that worry me, I wondered wryly?
“I should scry for the thieves,” Viltred broke in. “You might see something which you recognize.”
“It could help you direct your inquiry agents,” Shiv agreed and I murmured my own assent.
Mellitha rose and smoothed her gown over her ample hips. “That’s something we can do now. I’ll need a few things, so please build me a picture of these people while I fetch them.”
She rang a silver bell and doors opened to admit a pair of maids who rapidly laid a selection of elegant lunch dishes on the sideboard.
These went initially ignored as Viltred sat forward and concentrated on creating an image of the Elietimm in the air above the table. Livak, Halice and I watched, absorbed as the old mage wove skeins of blue light into first wisps, then sketchy shapes, then solid figures with every color and detail precise. Mellitha collected a bowl, a flagon of water and some small vials. Shiv was watching her preparations with interest.
“What are you using?”
“Perfumery oils.” Mellitha dripped precise amounts into the water. “I’ve been working on a few new things lately and this has been producing very good results.”
Viltred came to sit beside her and the three mages peered into the fragrant bowl. Mellitha looked at the image of the Ice Islanders for a long moment then set the water spinning, the oils on the surface gleaming in the green glow of her magic. Dark, indistinct images half formed and then dissolved. Faces loomed out of the depths and then floated away into nothing. A stone floor suddenly appeared sharp and clear, and then vanished just as quickly.
I looked over at Halice and Livak; we exchanged a shrug and went to get something to eat.
“How very odd.” Mellitha sounded distinctly put out. “I can’t keep the spell focused and I know I’m not doing anything out of the ordinary. The best I can say is they’re definitely in the city but I can’t even begin to guess where.”
Shiv sat back and ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t think you’ve been doing anything wrong. There’s something interfering with the spell. I’ve seen it before, this is what has been happening to us—”
“Are you quite sure it’s an external problem?” asked Viltred, doubt plain in his eyes.
Mellitha gave Viltred a level look. “Who’s the one with water affinity here?”
“What do we do now?” Shiv’s face was a study in frustration and I couldn’t blame him. We were finally in the same place as our quarry and the wizards’ magic chose now to desert us again. I wondered how soon we could make contact with Livak and Halice’s associates.
“Wait a moment,” Mellitha held up a brightly ringed hand. “You know, I came across something like this a few years ago.” She rummaged through a pile of small journals in her desk drawer. “Here it is, a fine art dealer whose income didn’t add up. I tried to follow him on a journey to Formalin and something fouled up my magic for a couple of days.”
“What was it?” demanded Viltred.
Mellitha shrugged, leafing through her notes, a frown marring her forehead. “I never was exactly sure. It was all rather odd; he was trading in religious art, shrine statuary, the sort of thing people used to keep in their houses. As close as I could tell the problem was caused by something in his possession. I wasn’t even sure he knew about it. I mean, as soon as he’d sold on all the votive figures, the scrying came clear and I was able to see just how much coin he was making above his voting declaration and where he was banking it with a goldsmith in Toremal.”
She looked up at the stillness in the room and glanced at each of us in turn. “I take it I’ve just said something significant?”
“It’s complicated,” Shiv temporized.
Mellitha fixed him with a steely gaze. “Young man, I am one of the leading tax contractors in this city. In order to purchase the rights to collect taxes, I have to calculate a tender that the Magistracy will accept while setting taxes that people will pay without too much objection. Expenses are the contractor’s responsibility, so making my own profit adds a further complexity. I spend my life dealing with complicated matters.”