He had never trusted her, never felt comfortable with what she was doing for him. He was more than willing to accept her offer of help and make use of her services as a spy. But she had been close to Shadea for too long for him to feel comfortable with the idea that she was ready to switch loyalties to him. It was one thing to betray Grianne Ohmsford, whom they all hated. It was another to betray a friend. Not that someone like Iridia would ever be bound too closely by friendship. But her machinations confused him. She would not tell him where she had gotten the liquid night. She would not tell him why she had chosen to pass it to Shadea through him rather than to give it to her friend directly. She would not explain her need for secrecy in working with him. Try as he might, he could not figure out what she would gain from all this. That sort of thing tended to bother a man whose life was built around understanding the nature of manipulations.

“You look tired, Sen Dunsidan,” she said. “Are you tired?”

He shook his head. “I am irritated, Iridia. I don’t like surprises and I don’t like people who second-guess my decisions without speaking to me about it first. Why has our agreement been changed?”

She moved to one of the chairs flanking the windows looking out over the city and sat down. He could barely see her in the dim light, but he was aware suddenly that something was different about her.

“I have had a falling-out with Shadea,” she said. “The damage cannot be repaired. She will no longer consult with me on things of any importance. She will seek to diminish me and ultimately to eliminate me completely. As a result, I cannot be effective as your spy.”

“A falling-out?” he repeated.

“Of a sort that has nothing to do with our agreement. She does not know about you and me. She does not even suspect. What has caused the breach between us has to do with someone I once cared for deeply.”

He had heard rumors about her involvement with another Druid, of a love affair that Grianne Ohmsford had put a stop to. Could this be whom she was talking about? But Shadea had not had anything to do with that business. He couldn’t see the connection.

“So I came here,” she finished, reaching for a goblet and pouring wine from the decanter that sat next to it.

“You came here to do what?” He moved forward a couple of steps to see her face better in the dim light, still trying to decide what was different about her.