“Just before dawn this morning.”

“Did anyone see you?”

Tam gave me another look; you know that one, too.

I raised my hands. “Sorry. Of course no one saw you.”

“Momentary lapse accepted.”

“So you found all this out—the coach, houses, horses—in less than a day?”

Tam smiled. “You’re not the only one who can find things people want to keep hidden.”

“I never said I was.” I stood. “Now, where is that coach?”

“Being watched.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“I know precisely what you mean, and I’m not telling you where it is. It’s too close to dark to risk you going anywhere near there. Nukpana may be planning to use that coach again tonight.”

“Yeah, and we can’t let him.”

“And we won’t. Three of my men are watching the carriage house. If Nukpana shows, two will follow him; one will report back to me.”

I opened my mouth to protest, and Tam held up a hand. “Yes, Mychael does know; and yes, he has provided backup for my men. If Nukpana or his accomplice comes for that coach, he or they will be stopped. And if we’re lucky, we can end this tonight.”

Lady Luck had stopped speaking to me; I hoped she was on better terms with Tam. Women liked Tam.

Tam’s lips turned into a firm line. “If we don’t, Sarad may soon have all the help he needs to regenerate himself, highly qualified help. The best nachtmagus in the goblin court arrived late yesterday on a ship from Regor, sent by Sathrik himself. He went directly to the goblin embassy.”

King Sathrik Mal’Salin. Goblin king, Nukpana’s boss, mildly psychotic, extremely murderous. But then, this was the goblin royal family; crazy was in their blood. Aside from getting Sarad Nukpana back, he wanted to get his hands on me and the Saghred. When Nukpana failed to deliver me, Sathrik set his royal lawyers on me. As far as I knew, they were still slithering their way through Mid’s legal system.

“Would Sarad Nukpana trust this nachtmagus?”

“Probably,” Tam said. “It’s his uncle on his mother’s side—Janos Ghalfari.”

“Damn.”

“Trust me, something stronger would be infinitely more appropriate. I’ve seen Janos at work. There’s nothing he hasn’t done, or at least tried; and if he liked it, he did it again. And when he stepped off of that goblin ship, he had Khrynsani temple guards with him.”

“Do you think Sarad Nukpana might have gone to the embassy?”

Tam shook his head. “Not a chance. Until he’s fully regenerated, he’s vulnerable. Rudra Muralin is still goblin ambassador, and both would like nothing more than to see the other dead. No, Nukpana wants and needs privacy right now. He cannot—”

The door opened and a Guardian stepped inside. “There is a lady here to see you. Imala Kalis. She said that you’re probably expecting her.”

Tam snarled a curse in Goblin under his breath.

Vegard laid a hand casually on the pommel of his sword. “If she’s trouble, I can tell her to go away.”

“She’s most definitely trouble, but no one has ever successfully made her leave.”

Vegard grinned in a flash of teeth. “She’s never been persuaded by a Guardian.”

Tam’s laugh was a short bark. “And you’ve never met the head of the goblin secret service.”

Chapter 7

When we’d arrived, the street outside Sirens had been fairly busy. Now not a soul was in sight—except for my Guardians and an equal number of equally well- armed goblins. Goblins were normally tall; these guys were taller than that, and would probably have looked just as big without all that black body armor. It was way too quiet; we were in the middle of a city and the only sound was the uneasy shifting of horses’ hooves on the cobbles and the occasional equine snort. That was just wrong.

Everyone was on horseback except for Tam and me and the Guardians who had been inside Sirens. Rathdowne Street was more of a broad boulevard than a street, but it was still entirely too full of armed goblins for my taste.

The sun was down, leaving only the faintest glow, and the streetlamps had been lit. Damn, I hadn’t meant to stay this long. Grim-faced Guardians were alert to any move the goblins made or were even thinking about making. I could have cut the tension with a spoon. Somehow I didn’t think that the first move was going to be friendly handshakes.

I counted ten goblins in the street in front of Sirens, with a pair guarding—or blocking—both ends of Rathdowne Street. The same number of Guardians had moved to cover them. Mid was under a dusk-to-dawn curfew, so what would have normally been a crowded street in the middle of the entertainment district was conveniently empty of witnesses for whatever was about to happen.

Guardians and city watch patrolled the city to enforce the curfew. Overhead, periodic plumes of fire marked where Guardian sentry dragons prowled the sky over the city, nimble and quick enough that their riders could land pretty much anywhere they wanted. If anything happened down here, any one of the Guardians with me could instantly conjure and launch a flare. Backup was just a fireball away. One of the goblins occasionally glanced skyward. They knew what was up there. It might be a deterrent; it might not.

One horse and its goblin rider were slightly out in front of the others. Since she was the only woman in the group, I assumed that she was Imala Kalis. Unlike some of her men, she didn’t look in the least bit tense; in fact, the goblin was smiling. Her face was half in shadow, but since that smile gave everyone a good look at a pair of tiny, white, and obviously sharp fangs, her intention could have been anything. But it had been my experience that social calls generally weren’t made with an armed escort. Imala Kalis could have brought two dozen mounted and heavily armed men with her for protection, or it could have been for persuasion. My bet was on the latter.

“You’re not going to invite me inside, Tam?” Imala Kalis’s voice was like a silk-covered stiletto.

“You, possibly,” Tam said coolly. “Your muscle, highly unlikely.”

“You’ve refused my invitations, so if I wished to speak with you, you left me no choice but to come to your place of business. And considering the present political climate, I could hardly make a social call by myself.”

I stepped out of the shadows to stand next to Tam. I was certain he’d prefer if I stayed out of sight, but I wanted a closer look at Imala Kalis—and I wanted her to get a closer look at me. My family doesn’t like being intimidated, and while I knew Tam didn’t intimidate, I wasn’t going to stand in the shadows while the lady played her little games. I’d ditched the fake blades; my own razor-sharp ones were now strapped in clear view across my back. Imala Kalis’s guards shifted uneasily at the sign of an armed elf. I didn’t hide my magical power; I didn’t flaunt it, either. It never hurts to let them know you’re packing.

Imala Kalis didn’t look uneasy or even a wee bit nervous. Her smile just got wider. “Mistress Benares, I presume.”

I bared my teeth to match hers. “Presumption correct.”

“I expected you to be taller.” She swung a graceful leg over her horse’s neck and dismounted, landing lightly on the cobbles.

Damned if she wasn’t shorter than I was. The streetlamps gave me a good look at her face. I have to admit I was surprised there, too. The head of the goblin secret service, the agent at the top of the ladder, the lady in the big office was . . . well, cute.

Her face was oval, delicate, and pretty. It’d been my experience that goblin women were tall and coldly beautiful. Imala Kalis was petite and perky. She looked like someone’s cute little sister, someone’s cute and deadly little sister. And I wasn’t the only one packing magic. Imala Kalis had nowhere near the level of talent that the Saghred had cursed me with, but it was obvious that she knew her way around a spell or two. She might be petite, but magically speaking she was no lightweight. Large, dark eyes shone with a keen intelligence and secrets, lots of secrets. One look at this lady told me that she probably had schemes and plots piled on top of motives, and she didn’t bother with alibis, or care who she had to kill. In other words, a perfect goblin.