“Hardly surprising. According to him, they’re having to turn people away at the door at their current location. I’d say he’s going to be a very rich man before long.”

“And you like him,” Alec observed. “So do I. I bet he’d make a good nightrunner.”

“No doubt he would. Actors often make good spies. We’ll have to keep an eye on that one.”

Atre met them in Gannet Lane at the appointed time. Lady Kylith was there as well, fanning herself in her open carriage.

“I’m so glad you two have decided to invest,” she said as Alec helped her down.

“I didn’t know it was a foregone conclusion,” Seregil replied.

She laughed and rapped him with her fan.

“I wouldn’t presume!” Atre exclaimed.

“You might as well.” Seregil sighed dramatically. “My lady here seems to have made up her mind on the matter. Come on, then. Let’s have a look.”

This theater was a far cry from the one in Basket Street. The huge polished wood doors were carved with the Eye of Illior, patron Immortal of creativity and actors, as well as wizards, nightrunners, and the mad. Inside there were banks of proper benches and a dozen fine boxes large enough for couches and wine tables. The stage was twice the size of the one at Basket Street, and flanked by tall wooden columns carved in the shapes of trees whose branches, laden with gilt leaves and fruit, spread across the theater ceiling. Atre led them around it, pointing out the finer details of the stage area, then took them back through the warren of little dressing and storage rooms behind it.

“It’s perfect, and worthy of your fine company,” Kylith said at last. “Seregil, you and Alec will be generous, won’t you?”

Seregil looked around approvingly. “It makes a nice change from my usual investments.”

“And once the army comes home, business should be even brisker,” added Alec.

“It will be before then, I assure you,” Atre told him. “Our Mycenian patrons tripled their money in a year. I expect we’ll do at least as well here.”

“Illior’s Light, it’s not about money!” Kylith exclaimed, scandalized. “I’m not in trade, Master Atre. No offense to you, dear Seregil.”

“None taken, dear lady.”

“No, I only wish to bring the beauty of your artistry to its proper standing in Rhíminee,” Kylith said, patting Atre’s arm.

Atre gave Kylith a warm look that made even the seasoned old courtier blush. “You are most gracious, my lady.” Then, to Seregil and Alec, “All our performances will be dedicated to you three. And I am, as always, my lady, at your service.”

“He made me the same promise the other night at the party,” Seregil told her with a wink. “Perhaps we should work out a schedule?”

Chapter 10 - Teus