'The counsellor procured the krrf from Caronne and sent word to me. I sent back a tempting offer to the boy. He contrived to make the journey to Sanctuary, supposedly to be introduced to the Emperor's brother. He'll miss the appointment.'

'That's his blood on your sleeve?' the eunuch asked.

'Nothing so direct; that was another matter. When he's supposed to be at the palace tomorrow, he'll be floating in the harbour, disguised as the shit of dogs.'

'So you got the krrf and the boy's money as well,' Amoli said.

'Half the money. He tried to croy me.' He refilled the woman's glass. 'But you see. There can be no connection.'

'I believe there may be. Anenday was when mine disappeared.'

'Did you keep it wrapped in a cheese?'

She ignored that. 'Who delivered yours?'

'Marype, the youngest son of my sorcerer Mizraith. He does all of my caravan deliveries.'

The eunuch and Amoli exchanged glances. "That's it! It was from Marype I bought the block. Not two hours after the caravan came in.' Her face was growing red with fury.

One-Thumb drummed his fingers on the table. 'I didn't yet mine till evening,' he admitted.

'Sorcery?'

'Or some more worldly form of trickery,' One-Thumb said slowly. 'Marype is studying his father's trade, but I don't think he's adept enough to transport material objects ... could your krrf have been an illusion?'

'It was no illusion. I tried a pinch.'

'Do you recall from what part of the block you took it?'

'The bottom edge, near one corner.'

'Well, we can settle one thing,' he said, standing. 'Let's check mine in that spot.'

She bade the bodyguards stay, and followed One-Thumb. At the door to his office, while he was trying to make the key work, she took his arm and moved softly up against him. 'You never tarry at my place any more. Are you keeping your own woman, out at the estate? Did we do something -'

'You can't have all my secrets, woman.' In fact, for more than a year he had not taken a woman normally, but needed the starch of rape. This was the only part of his evil life that shamed him, and certainly not because of the women he had hurt and twice killed. He dreaded weakness more than death, and wondered which part would fail him next.

Amoli idly looked through the one-way mirror while One-Thumb attended to the strongbox. She turned when she heard him gasp.

'Gods!' The leather wrapping lay limp and empty on the floor of the box.

They both stared for a moment. 'Does Marype have his father's protection?' Amoli asked.

One-Thumb shook his head. 'It was the father that did this.'

Sorcerers are not omnipotent. They can be bargained with. They can even be killed, with stealth and surprise. And spells cannot normally be maintained without effort; a good sorcerer might hold six or a dozen at once. It was Mizraith's fame that he maintained past a hundred, although it was well known that he did this by casting secondary spells on lesser'sorcerers, tapping their power unbeknownst. Still, gathering all these strings and holding them, ' as well as the direct spells that protected his life and fortune, used most of his concentration, giving him a distracted air. The unwary might interpret this as senility - a half-century without sleep had left its mark - and might toy to take his purse or life, as their last act.

But Mizraith was rarely seen on the streets, and certainly never near the noise and smell of the Maze. He normally kept to his opulent apartments in the easternmost part of town, flanked by the inns of Wideway, overlooking the sea.

One-Thumb warned the pirate cook that he might have to take a double shift, and took a bottle of finest brandy to give to Mizraith, and a skin of the ordinary kind to keep up their courage as they went to face the man who guarded his life. The emptied skin joined the harbour's flotsam before they'd gone half of Wideway, and they continued in grim silence.

Mizraith's eldest son let them in, not seeming surprised at their visit. 'The bodyguards stay here,' he said, and made a pass with one hand. 'You'll want to leave all your iron here, as well.'

One-Thumb felt the dagger next to his ankle grow warm; he tossed it away and also dropped his rapier and the dagger sheathed to his forearm. There was a similar scattering of weapons from the other three. Amoli turned to the wall and reached inside her skirts, inside herself, to retrieve the ultimate birth control device, a sort of diaphragm with a spring-loaded razor attached (no one would have her without paying in some coin). The hardware glowed dull red briefly, then cooled.

'Is Marype at home?' One-Thumb asked.

'He was, briefly,' the older brother said. 'You came to see Father, though.' He turned to lead them up a winding flight of stairs.

Velvet and silk embroidered in arcane patterns. A golden samovar bubbling softly in the corner; flower-scented tea. A naked girl, barely ofchildbearing age, sitting cross-legged by the samovar, staring. A bodyguard much larger than the ones downstairs, but slightly transparent. In the middle of this sat Mizraith, on a pile of pillows, or maybe of gold, bright eyes in dark hollows, smiling open-mouthed at something unseeable.

The brother left them there. Magician, guardian, and girl all ignored them. 'Mizraith?' One-Thumb said.

The sorcerer slowly brought his eyes to bear on him and Amoli.

'I've been waiting for you, Lastel, or what is your name in the Maze, One-Thumb ... I could grow that back for you, you know.'

'I get along well enough -'

'And you brought me presents! A bottle and a bauble - more my age than this sweetmeat.' He made a grotesque face at the naked girl and winked.

'No, Mizraith, this woman and I, we both believe we've been wronged by you. Cheated and stolen from,' he said boldly, but his voice shook. 'The bottle is a gift.'

The bodyguard moved towards them, its steps making no noise. 'Hold, spirit.' It stopped, glaring. 'Bring that bottle here.'

As One-Thumb and Amoli walked towards Mizraith, a low table materialized in front of him, then three glasses. 'You may serve, Lastel.' Nothing had moved but his head.

One-Thumb poured each glass full; one of them rose a handspan above the table and drained itself, then disappeared. 'Very good. Thank you. Cheated, now? My, oh my. Stolen? Hee. What could you have that I need?'

'It's only we who need it, Mizraith, and I don't know why you would want to cheat us out of it - especially me. You can't have many commissions more lucrative than mine.'

'You might be surprised, Lastel. You might be surprised. TeaY The girl decanted a cup of tea and brought it over, as if in a trance. Mizraith took it and the girl sat at his side, playing with her hair. 'Stolen, eh? What? You haven't told me. What?'

'Krrf,' he said.

Mizraith gestured negligently with his free hand and a small snowstorm of grey powder drifted to the rug, and disappeared.

'No.' One-Thumb rubbed his eyes. When he looked at the pillows, they were pillows; when he looked away, they turned to blocks of gold. 'Not conjured krrf.' It had the same gross effect but no depth, no nuance.

'Twenty grimales of black krrf from Caronne,' Amoli said.

'Stolen from both of us,' One-Thumb said. 'It was sent to me by a man in Ranke, payment for services rendered. Your son Marype picked it up at the caravan depot, hidden inside a cheese. He extracted it somehow and sold it to this woman, Amoli -'

'Amoli? You're the mistress of a ... of the Slippery Lily?'

'No, the Lily Garden. The other place is in the Maze, a good place for pox and slatterns.'