It had been another late night with Reltheus. As Alec rode beside Seregil through the dark, quiet city toward Wheel Street, he wanted nothing more than some cool water and a soft bed. The late-summer air was charged and humid even at this hour, with the promise of thunderstorms to come. Flexing his sweating shoulders under the unwelcome weight of his linen coat, Alec added a nice refreshing wash in for good measure, perhaps with Seregil’s help.

Tired as he was, however, he was still alert for any sign of assassins, although no attack had come since Laneus’s sudden death. As they turned the corner into Wheel Street, Alec saw with surprise that bright lamplight was showing through the salon windows overlooking the street. “Runcer’s up late.” The manservant usually left a single lamp burning for them when they were out at night.

Inside, he was even more surprised to find Eirual’s doorkeeper, Manius, waiting for them. Alec had never seen him outside of the brothel, and the man looked uncharacteristically distraught.

“What’s wrong?” asked Alec.

“I’m not to say, my lord, if you’ll forgive me. That is my mistress’s wish. I’m to send you and Lord Seregil to her house at once, if you’ll come.”

Seregil exchanged a worried look with Alec. “Of course.”

Manius had come in a carriage, so they left him to it and galloped through the sleeping city to the Street of Lights, where revelers were still very much awake. Eirual’s great receiving room was full as always, with wealthy men and beautiful, alluringly dressed young courtesans.

Pretty blond Hyli was waiting for them, eyes red from crying, and led them upstairs to Eirual’s private chamber. They found their friend sitting in a chair beside the bed, alone and fully dressed, holding the hand of someone lying there. Coming closer, Alec’s heart plummeted. It was Myrhichia.

Dressed in the dark blue, crystal-spangled gown she’d worn the night they’d entertained Laneus and Malthus, she lay perfectly still, eyes open and staring unseeing at the silken canopy above.

“Maker’s Mercy, no!” Alec sank down on the edge of the bed beside her and touched her hand. It was warm but limp as he took it in his.

Seregil went to comfort Eirual. “When did this happen?”

“A few hours ago.” Eirual leaned on his shoulder and a tear slid down her cheek. “She was singing in the salon. One of her favorites was here for the evening after a long time away. She was so happy! She was beginning a new song when suddenly she just—wilted, like a flower in the hot sun! I thought at first that she’d fainted and struck her head, but she’s been like this ever since! We managed to get her up here without anyone noticing her true condition. Is this the sickness from the Lower City?”

“It looks like it.”