“Will you slow down?” said Giddon, who badly didn’t want to think about that yet. “First, could we figure out why she’s here?”

Together, with casual disinterest, they watched the woman and the man approach a deep blue building with gold trim, halfway up the staircase. Giddon realized, with another spark of recognition, that he also recognized the man. “That fellow was at dinner last night,” he said. “His name is Arni Devret. His wife, Mara Devret, is a politician. She was one of the more thoughtful people at the table.” In fact, Mara had deflected the conversation away from Giddon in the moments when Giddon had most needed to be left alone.

Outside the blue building, Arni Devret and Trina said their goodbyes. Then he entered the building and she walked up the staircase to the street above, on her own.

“I suppose Trina could stand before Bitterblue’s silver mines and know if they contained zilfium?” said Hava.

Chapter Eleven

Curiosity propelled them up the staircase to the building, which was tall and narrow, wedged between other businesses. A small sign on the wall read “Bank of Flag Hill” in elegant, gold-gilded letters.

“Shall we see what we can learn about Trina?” asked Giddon.

“On what pretext?”

“We want to walk to the Keep without getting caught in any more ambles,” said Giddon. “He can give us directions.”

“Weak, but acceptable, if it’s the best you can do.” Hava tried the door. “Locked.”

“Is there a knocker?”

“Here’s a bellpull,” she said, yanking on a thick gold chain that hung beside the door. “Oh, balls,” she said as the chain came away in her hand. Above them, sparks sounded, then a row of lamps whooshed into flame.

“Hava!” said Giddon, for what he knew was his third and last time.

“Listen, how was I supposed to know?”

“You can’t just yank at things in a strange city!”

As Hava shot him a look suggesting that this was the stupidest aphorism she’d ever heard, the door opened. Arni Devret stepped out, big and broad, with eyes that were mild like Bitterblue’s. Did everything in this city have to remind him of Bitterblue?

Arni knew Giddon immediately. “Giddon!” he said.

“Hello,” said Giddon in Keepish. “How are you, sir? I’m afraid we’ve lit your lamps.”

“Oh?” Arni said, glancing upward. “So I see.”

“I’m afraid we’ve also broken your lamps,” said Giddon, nudging Hava, who held the gold chain out to Arni.

“I’m sorry,” she said in Keepish. “I thought it was a bellpull.”

“Bellpull?” repeated Arni in slight confusion, his dark eyes touching the chain, then resting on Hava’s face.

“A chain you pull that makes a bell ring inside,” she said.

“Oh! A doorbell,” he said. “Think nothing of it. It’s the most natural mistake. You weren’t at dinner last night, but I believe you must be Hava?”

“Yes.”