pass again; then checked it as Mizraith did the same. ‘Clothe me.’ A brick
disappeared, and Marype was wearing a tunic of woven gold.
‘Tell me you are not in the thrall of Markmor.’
The boy’s fists were clenched. ‘I am not.’
‘Are you quite certain?’
‘We are friends, partners. He is teaching me things.’
‘You know I will teach you everything, eventually. But -‘
Marype made a pass and the stack of gold turned to a heap of stinking dung.
‘Cheap,’ Mizraith said, wrinkling his nose. He held his elbow a certain way and
the gold came back. ‘Don’t you see he wants to take advantage of you?’
‘I can see that he wants access to you. He was quite open about that.’
‘Stefab,’ Mizraith whispered. ‘Nesteph.’
‘You need the help of my brothers?’
The two older brothers appeared, flanking Mizraith. ‘What I need is some sense
out of you.’ To the others: ‘Stay him!’
Heavy golden chains bound his wrists and ankles to sudden rings in the floor. He
strained and one broke; a block of blue ice encased him. The ice began to melt.
Mizraith turned to One-Thumb and Amoli. ‘You weaken us with your presence.’ A
bar of gold floated over to the woman. ‘That will compensate you. Lastel, you
will have the krrf, once I take care of this. Be careful for the next few hours.
Go.’
As they backed out, other figures began to gather in the room. One-Thumb
recognized the outline of Markmor flickering.
In the foyer, Amoli handed the gold to her eunuch. ‘Let’s get back to the Maze,’
she said. ‘This place is dangerous.’
One-Thumb sent the pirate cook home and spent the rest of the night in the