“Apparitor sent me, my lady, to help you with anything you required.” The jellyfish light picked out his gold-flecked eyes, Tain Hu’s eyes, and drowned that color in cold green. He had a good face, big-eyed and curious and beautiful, darker enough than Baru to be brown-black. In ancient days golden monkeys with clever faces were companions to the Oriati princes of myth, but Falcrest had stolen that image and racialized it, and Baru would not make the comparison now.

Or had this entire thought only been an excuse to indulge in prejudice? Could she ever know?

“He sent you to watch me, you mean,” she said.

“Yes, my lady, he’s concerned for you. He hopes you will allow me to remain by your side.”

“Yes, I gathered that when he sent you to seduce me.”

“Generally seduction involves the front or the back, my lady, but rarely the side.”

He said it very plainly, which made Baru laugh. “I don’t favor men. But I’m sure you knew that.”

“Sometimes people are flexible.”

“Sometimes. Not this time. Help me up.”

She hauled herself up on his forearm. He had to throw his weight back and heave, as if he were trying to escape her grip. The gap between his slippers and his robe bared his hard black calves.

“So you’re Apparitor’s homme fatal?”

“Sometimes, my lady. I have many uses.”

“Are you useful for picking up letters?”

He was indeed. When they’d gathered the dropped mail he led her through quicklime-dessicated air to a desk occupied by what seemed to be a very patient, very still man. “The circulation desk, my lady,” Iraji said, pointing with an open hand. “And the presiding librarian.”

A mummified corpse had been mounted to a steel ring behind the table. Hollow eye sockets stared forever into the shelves. A silver placard read:

JAMAN RYAPOST.

SUICIDE UPON EXALTATION. 11 SUMMER AR 101. PRESERVED IN LOVING* MEMORY

(*WE THINK IT LIKELY THAT SOMEONE LOVED JAMAN RYAPOST)

Suicide upon exaltation. Hm.

Baru thought, absurdly, about killing herself.

“Your Excellence?” Iraji asked, gently. Baru very much disliked her greed for his concern. “Are you all right?”

“Tell Apparitor I’m frightfully upset,” she snapped. In the jellyfish light everything seemed to be underwater; looking at Iraji she had the idea that bubbles would puff from his nose. Again she thought of drowning. “Did he send you any message for me?”

“My lord Apparitor did pass on this letter of introduction.…”

A fresh envelope, marked, in very old-fashioned print, WELCOME TO THE CHANDLESPIDER CELL OF THE SPECIAL ADVISORY TO THE IMPERIAL THRONE. “Chandlespider?”

“Yes, my lady. Once the Throne had multiple cells, hidden from each other.”

“And now?”

“To the best of my knowledge we are the only remaining cell. I understand the Throne had to be purged and rebuilt a few decades back. A period we call the Rebirth.”