“Klia’s paved the way for us there,” Seregil told him. “Apparently she’d spoken well of us to her niece often enough to make an impression. And I wouldn’t discount Elani for her age. She strikes me as very astute.”

“Her father is said to have been a brilliant man, and a fine general. Apparently she takes after him. I’m glad to hear she can still enjoy herself, though. She’s very serious at court.”

“Being chosen the heir when she was half grown, rather than being born to it, would make me pretty serious, too,” said Alec.

Thero looked around, then lowered his voice. “If Phoria dies, do you think Elani can rule?”

Seregil shrugged. “In the field? Who can say? But she’s been trained by Phoria, and if the queen has confidence in her, then the girl must be made of strong stuff.”

“And there have been warrior queens her age before—Tamír the Great, and Gherilain herself,” Alec pointed out.

Thero nodded. “Well, use your connections. I must know if something is seriously afoot against any of the royals. Has Reltheus said anything more to you about Princess Klia?”

Seregil exchanged a knowing look with Alec. “He’s asked us about her several times, actually. Nothing very specific, really, just our impressions of her and how close friends with her we are.”

“I see. I suspect they’ve underlined your name on their list by now, even with this unexpected good luck at court.”

“I get more the impression that he’s sounding us out as possible allies, or at least trying to use us for information.”

“So you’re next move is to burgle Malthus, I suppose. And if you do find something treasonous?”

“It comes to you, of course. I just hope we don’t.”

As they were taking their leave, Alec paused at the door. “Thero, have you heard anything about a disease called the sleeping death?”

“No. What is it?”

“Some sort of sickness down in the port. People just fall down and lie there with their eyes open for days until they starve.”

“Doesn’t sound like any magic I know of. Some form of epilepsy, perhaps. I haven’t heard anything of it up here.”

“No one has, it seems,” Seregil told him. “It’s only affecting the poor in the Lower City.”

“Ah, that would explain it, then.”

“We heard a bluecoat talking quarantine,” Alec added.

“That would certainly get people’s attention. Has Valerius looked into it?”

“Not that I know of,” said Seregil. “It could be that the priests and healers down there are as worried about quarantine as anyone else.”

“With good reason. It could cripple the whole city.”

“And if it spread up here there could be a panic.”

“I should think this is a matter best left to the drysians,” Thero warned. “See that you two don’t catch it.”