She sat alone at that table for around a quarter of an hour, the serving girls bringing her drinks simultaneously from two different admirers. She accepted them with grace, but didn’t acknowledge whoever had bought them for her.

Men passed close by, but she barely gave them a glance. After a while, she rolled herself something to smoke, probably arum weed, lit the end of the roll-up in a candle flame, then leaned back and exhaled the smoke. Her eyes remained fixed on the lute player, still singing moodily on top of his morose chords.

It was going to be a dull night for Tryst if all she did was sit and smoke and drink. He’d just have to wait until she left and then follow her home. One way he could get inside would be if he propositioned her as a customer, but then she would recognize him. Although maybe that wasn’t a bad thing, as he could use their brief acquaintance to become intimate with her. If she would only let him into her world. Then he could take a closer look at her paintings, and perhaps they might reveal some clues.

Since his training as an Inquisition torturer, Tryst possessed a secret stash of subtle powder, sannindi, that he could use to his advantage. Essentially a truth powder, supposedly it could only be obtained through official Inquisition channels, but it still found its way into the hands of illicit dealers as ‘love potion’. Just a little sprinkle of it into food or drink, and people became remarkably amenable. Jeryd certainly wouldn’t approve of him using it, but Tryst didn’t care. He reached into an inside pocket, pulled out the paper wrap. The red powder was inside, not enough to make her pass out, but it would alter her mind enough to make her very helpful with his enquiries.

He picked up his glass and the bottle of Black Heart rum, and headed across the smoky room to her table. ‘Looks like you’ve got no company either. Mind if I join you?’

She looked up at him, then stubbed out her roll-up of arum weed. ‘Well, well, it’s the human Inquisition officer. Your life’s obviously as dull as mine in that you find yourself in this low-down joint. And I had you for a worthier sort.’

She indicated the chair next to her. ‘So what brings you here? How’s your friend, Jeryd?’

‘He’s fine.’ Tryst sat down and began pouring each of them another drink. He offered her some more arum weed, pre-rolled.

She took one, saying, ‘Thanks. It’s a nasty habit. So has he got back with his wife yet?’

‘Yes, they’re together again.’ Tryst set the bottle on the table. She seemed genuinely happy at the news. Strange, he contemplated, living through other people’s happiness.

‘That’s nice to see true love lasting, not just strangers shacking up with anyone convenient to hide from the ice.’ She pulled out another roll-up from her pocket, lit it in the candle flame. ‘So, are you here to spy on me?’

Tryst chuckled, glancing up at the stage. ‘If only.’ He locked eye contact with her, then released it. ‘No, I’m just killing an evening on my own. You know how it is.’

‘Another night in Villjamur,’ she sighed, exhaling smoke. ‘I suppose being in this city does that to you. So many people everywhere and none of them cares for you. Not one bit.’

‘A little morose.’

‘The city, or what I said?’

Tryst liked that. She was certainly entrancing, despite the melancholy, maybe even because of it. ‘I’m going to get us another bottle.’ He motioned for a serving girl to come over. The girl gave that typical waitress nod-and-smile, then turned to leave. Tryst said, ‘What do you think of that one? Pretty or not?’

As Tuya studied the girl as she walked away, he covertly reached out and sprinkled some of the sannindi powder into her drink.

She shrugged. ‘All right, I suppose, but you could do a lot better.’

‘Well, I’m usually pretty picky, so it must be the Freeze, like you said.’ He raised his glass. ‘Here’s to shacking up with anyone.’

She laughed dryly, joining him in the toast.

Half an hour later they were back in Tuya’s room. It had taken them some time to climb the intervening levels as the streets were so icy. She was already drowsy, because of the effects of the sannindi. Her place was dark as they entered, so Tryst lit a lantern, and as soon as it came to life, he could see the copious amounts of ornaments and antiques crammed into every available space. With so little else in her life, she had to fill it with something, he guessed.

She was now getting amorous as a side-effect of the drug, but he didn’t take advantage. After all, she was now under suspicion of murdering two of the most senior administrators in the city.

One of the doors to the balcony was fractionally open. Because of the noxious smell of paints in the room, he assumed she left it open to let in some fresh air. He walked over to shut out the eternal winter. The landscape had been reduced to a few lights. Everyone was where they should be, in bed, or somewhere warm. Then faintly, he heard some chatter from the streets, two blades clashing, a cough of laughter. Probably a couple of youths testing each other’s ability with a sword.

Tuya slumped onto the bed clutching her head in her hands. She glanced repeatedly up at Tryst, then began to loosen her clothing. While she was occupied, he decided to examine the room to see if he could find anything. Uncertain where to start, he moved over to the covered canvases stacked in one corner of the room. Paint, after all, was the only clue Jeryd had found.

Besides several large canvases there were a couple on easels and a dozen much smaller items of art on the side. All were concealed beneath heavy cloth, so he uncovered the first to reveal a large image of an animal that he couldn’t identify. Whatever it was, it had several limbs beyond necessary. Its shape suggested something primitive; it generated a distinct feeling of unease.

‘Would… would you like to spend the night?’ Tuya asked tremulously.

She had closed her eyes, was lying on her side on the bed, wearing only a corset. Tryst could see the hideous scar on her face clearly now. He ignored her, and scrutinized the paintings further.

‘You’re a handsome one,’ she snickered. ‘I’d like it if you did. Come on. You know you want to. You men are all the same.’

‘Maybe,’ Tryst said. ‘Just a moment.’

She sat up suddenly. ‘What’re you doing? Don’t look at those.’ She pushed herself off the bed, stumbled forwards into his arms, her bare feet sliding on the tiles. She was surprisingly heavy, as he eased her back on the bed. ‘Don’t look at them,’ she repeated.

‘Why not?’ Tryst said soothingly. ‘I think you’re a wonderful artist. I want to see your real talents.’

‘Really? You’re not just saying that?’ She sounded confused again. He knew the drug would affect her for a little while longer.

‘No, I’m not just saying it,’ he said. ‘I want to see more.’

‘But…’ she trailed off.

He could sense her frustration now as she battled with the effects of the sannindi powder. She wanted to order him away from the paintings – the need so clear in her eyes – but she also seemed to desire to please him, to offer him anything she could.

Either way, he didn’t care.

‘I want to look at your paintings,’ he insisted.

She began to take off her corset.

‘No,’ he commanded, and grasped her hands softly at the wrist. She looked genuinely confused, then gave him a smile tinged with venom.

It said she hated him, without saying anything at all.

‘You’re a beautiful woman, Tuya,’ he said, to reassure her. The last thing he wanted now was to create a scene. ‘But I don’t think we should, because you don’t really want to.’

He pushed her away slightly so that she fell on the bed. She sighed and closed her eyes and just lay there, with her corset still intact.