A pair of gold doors were opened by two more impeccably dressed servants. Another man, dressed in a long dark coat, led the way into the vestibule, filled with tapestries and more sculptures than Arista had ever seen in one place. They were led through an archway outside to an expansive patio. Ivy-covered lattices lined an open-air terrace decorated with a variety of unusual plants and two more fountains—once more of nude women, only these were much smaller and wrought of polished marble.

“Good evening, Your Highness, gentlemen. Welcome to my humble home.”

Seated on a luxurious couch, a large man greeted them. He was not tall but of amazing girth. He looked to be in his early fifties and well on his way to going bald. He tied what little hair he had left with a black silk ribbon and let it fall in a tail down his back. His chubby face remained youthful, showing lines of age only at the corners of his eyes when he smiled, as he was doing now. He dressed in a silk robe and held a glass of wine, which threatened to spill as he motioned them over.

“Duster, how long has it been, my old friend? I can see now that I should have made you First Officer when I had the chance. It would have saved so much trouble for the both of us. Alas, but I couldn’t see it then. I hope we can put all that unpleasantness behind us now.”

“My business was settled the day Hoyte died,” Royce replied. “Judging from our reception, I would say it was the Diamond that was having trouble putting the past behind them.”

“Quite right, quite right.” Cosmos chuckled. Arista determined he was the kind of man who laughed the way other people twitched, stammered, or bit their nails. “You won’t let me get away with anything, will you? That’s good. You keep me honest—well, as honest as a man in my profession can be.” He chuckled again. “It’s that pesky legend that keeps the guild on edge. You’re quite the bogeyman. Not that Mr. Price here buys into any of that, you understand, but it’s his responsibility to keep the organization running smoothly. Allowing you to stroll about town is like letting a man-eating tiger meander through a crowded tavern. As the tavern keeper, they expect me to maintain the peace.”

Cosmos motioned toward Price with his goblet. “You knew Mr. Price only briefly when you were still with us, I think. A pity. You would like him if you met under different circumstances.”

“Who said I didn’t like him?”

Cosmos laughed. “You don’t like anyone, Duster, with the exception of Hadrian and Miss DeLancy, of course. There are only those you put up with and those you don’t. By the mere fact that I’m here, I can at least deduce I’m not on your short list.”

“Short list?”

“I can’t imagine your slate of targets stays full for very long.”