Evastany

22 IV, Truenight

22 IV, Truenight

It occurred to me belatedly that we had forgotten Heliandor’s interests in our enthusiasm for espionage. If we all wandered off-world in search of dark deeds, nefarious plans and dastardly villains, what would become of her education? We had assigned her teacher an alternative duty without sparing a thought for her progress.

I was reassured by the recollection that time passes oddly in the Libraries, if it passes at all. You can be in there for what would be weeks of our time, and return to find that a matter of mere hours has passed at home. So, Gio’s absence would not, in all likelihood, signify much for Heliandor. We will give her a little holiday of a day or two, by the end of which time, everything should be nicely cleared up.

Ori left Glour City for a day in favour of Amori Tovia. He said he plans to annoy Faronni’s neighbours without cease until somebody tells him something useful. I tried to tell him that Tren and I had been more than annoying enough already, but he was unmoved.

Of course, what he will actually do is befriend every one of them and charm them into talking with him at great length. People grow expansive under such treatment, and in the course of ordinary conversation may remember details that do not come to mind under direct questioning from a stranger. It is an art I have never been much good at, because I tend to intimidate people. Ordinary people, that is. Give me a Lord or an Ambassador or a High Sorcerer or something and I will have no difficulty in bending them to my will.

Ori has not yet returned, but in his absence something odd has happened.

I have received a letter.

It is an application for a bursary, from another partial Lokant. Had it arrived yesterday, I would have been delighted, and would have wasted no time in writing to invite this gentleman to join us.

The matter looks different today. I think Ori is probably right: our letters are being intercepted, allowing our unknown opponent to extract whichever partials she requires without interference from us. Why, then, did this letter arrive?

Is it like Miss Nallay’s letter? Has it simply been missed, evaded capture somehow? That seems unlikely. I can believe that one letter might slip through the net accidentally, especially when it was sent very early in our campaign — before, perhaps, our opponent had mustered her strategy. I find it hard to imagine that the same explanation applies to this one.

Two possibilities, then, that I can think of. Either this new applicant is like Heliandor Rasset, and somehow fails to qualify according to whatever criteria our Lokant friend is using. Or, the letter is decidedly Fishy and Something Sinister is Afoot.

I suspect the latter. Shall I imagine that, having confiscated all of our post for at least the past week, our friendly local kidnapper would be obliging enough to forward on to us the applications from those students who do not fit her requirements? She might be an unusually polite, unaggressive kidnapper, but such neighbourly conduct is too much to expect.

Shall I imagine instead that we are not the only ones who can conceive of the benefits of fabricating false applicants? I think so indeed.

I showed the letter to Tren.

‘Intriguing,’ he said when he had read it. ‘Are we pursuing it?’

I was firmly of the opinion that it ought to be investigated, and said so. ‘If it is a trap, how convenient! Obviously they expect us to be too wary to reply by return of post, and to go in person instead. And clearly, our ultimate fate is to be made off with forthwith, or perhaps just attacked in some refreshingly direct fashion. Nothing could coincide more beautifully with our plans.’

‘I prefer the plans. At least we would be more or less in control of the situation.’

I gave a great, disappointed sigh. ‘Where is your sense of adventure, Tren.’

He narrowed his pretty eyes at me. ‘It dissipated around the time I asked you to marry me, and you agreed.’

‘Protectiveness is so limiting.’

Tren grinned. ‘Let’s say I have a vested interest in your continued existence. Is that better?’

‘I have a vested interest in yours, but you don’t catch me wrapping you in fluffy things and forbidding you to venture outdoors. And what of Ori! He proposes to propel dear Gio into the very jaws of the whurthag, so to speak, and with alacrity!’

‘I do not consider it much to his credit that he does. Ori can be reckless at times, which is his own business, but being reckless on behalf of somebody one loves is difficult to justify.’

‘Dearest heart of mine,’ said I in my most serious tone. ‘If you propose to become poor-spirited, lily-livered and fretful on account of our marriage, I may be forced to reconsider my acceptance.’

Tren’s eyes widened. ‘Please tell me that is a joke.’

I tried my hardest to maintain a severe demeanour, but failed. I leaned on him instead and said: ‘Just try not to ruin all my fun, if you can manage it.’

‘How about if I go with you?’ he offered, apparently by way of compromise.

I looked at him like the i***t he was. ‘I have no idea why you imagined you were likely to be excused from that duty in the first place.’

Tren blinked. ‘Right. Sorry.’

Nothing went according to either our plans or theirs, of course, but isn’t that life?