As night fell, the servants built a bonfire on the beach and everyone gathered around to eat mussels boiled in wine and spices and sing under the stars. Seregil was loaned a harp again and sang a love ballad in his lilting tenor, then called on the company to join him in more love songs and warriors’ lays, finishing with a few ballads celebrating the queen’s battles.

At last they were rowed back to the ship and sailed home across the glittering harbor. At the quay Elani bid them good night and rode off with her court.

Collecting their horses from a public stable, Alec and Seregil started for home through the backstreets of the Lower City.

“You wouldn’t mind staying at the Stag tonight, would you?” Seregil murmured.

“No, why?”

Seregil’s grin flashed pale in the starlight. “Just a bit of business, if we’re lucky.”

As they turned into Cod Street, Alec noticed a young bawd sprawled awkwardly near the open doorway of a tavern. He first supposed she was either drunk or murdered, until he saw that her eyes were wide open and that she was still breathing. He reined in and dismounted.

“What are you doing?” Seregil asked impatiently.

“She’s alive.” He touched her brow with his palm. “Like that boy we found.”

Seregil joined him and pressed two fingers against the inside of her wrist. “Her pulse is strong.”

“You there! What are you up to?” a man demanded, and Alec turned to find a blue-coated sergeant of the City Watch regarding them with obvious suspicion.

“We just found her like this,” he explained.

“Oh, pardon me, my lords,” the man said, taking in their fine clothing. Then, looking down at the woman, he shook his head. “Sakor’s Flame, another one?”

“You’ve seen this before?” asked Seregil.

The man came a bit closer, but Alec could tell he was nervous. “Mostly back away from the merchants’ streets. It’s the sleeping death, all right.”

“The what?”

“Some new sickness here around the waterfront,” the bluecoat explained, taking a step back. “We’re seeing a lot of it, here in the dog days. A person will just be walking along, then all of a sudden they stagger and go down, then just lie there. After a while, they die. Leave her. The Scavengers will see to her.”

“But she’s not dead,” said Alec.

“The Scavengers are the only ones who’ll handle these poor beggars, except for the drysians. It’s spreading, you know, though folks aren’t talking about it, on account of what could happen.”

“Quarantine,” said Seregil.