Seven #2
“Oh, my apologies.” The iylvahn woman didn’t sound at all apologetic, merely smug. “What is the word in your outsider tongue . . .
oh, yes. Tavern. If you’re looking for a tavern, that is the place to go.”
“Thanks,” Halek said, still smiling easily. “We appreciate it.”
The iylvahn didn’t answer. Both turned away and began conversing with each other in their own language, though the sidelong
glances at me and Halek made it very clear who they were talking about.
“Well.” Halek grinned as we turned toward the tavern. The sylgellia, according to the iylvahn. “That was interesting. Do you get the feeling we’re not exactly wanted here?”
“I did get that feeling, yes,” I muttered.
“Ah, well.” He shrugged again. “Like I’ve said before, if I let being unwanted stop me, I wouldn’t get to go anywhere. Shall
we?”
We entered the sylgellia, which was unlike any tavern I had seen before. The space was wide open and airy, with vines and
branches curling through the roof and growing up the walls. Tables and benches surrounded a sweeping divan in the center of
the room, where a beautiful iylvahn woman played a haunting melody on a harp. The few iylvahn in the tavern sipped wine from
crystal-clear glasses, looking regal and almost bored.
As we stepped further inside, Halek nudged me and nodded to a table in the corner, where a trio of iylvahn sat playing a game
that involved both cards and dice. “Thank the goddess,” he whispered. “They do have games here, after all. Though whatever
they’re playing looks much more complicated than Triple Fang.” He watched the players a little longer before shaking his head.
“I’ve never seen a game that uses both dice and cards,” he murmured. “I wonder how hard it is to learn?”
“If anyone could, it would be you,” I muttered back. He beamed.
We approached the bar, and the willowy bartender looked down his perfectly straight nose at us. “Outsiders,” he said in an
overly polite voice. “Can I help you?”
“Yes, what’s good here?” Halek asked, completely unruffled, while I was feeling more and more like creeping into the nearest
clump of shadows and disappearing. “What do you recommend on the menu?”
“Menu?” The iylvahn’s brow furrowed. “We don’t have a menu here,” he said, making the word sound ugly. “What is available today is what we have.”
“Oh. Well, even better. I don’t have to make a choice.” Halek smiled at the iylvahn, who seemed unimpressed. “We’ll take two
of your finest. Whatever it is.”
No choice, I thought, as the iylvahn nodded and reached under the bar. Was that because they had limited resources, or was it just
how iylvahn society worked? The bartender placed two glasses in front of us, then filled each one with a dark-red liquid.
A heady, fruity scent filled the air, so strong I got a little lightheaded.
“Oh, yes, this is going to knock me on my face, I can already tell.” Halek rubbed his hands together and looked at the bartender.
“What do we owe you?”
“You are guests in the queen’s palace,” the bartender replied flatly. “We do not need your outsider coin.” He waved an airy
hand at the room and the tables behind us. “You owe us nothing. Please enjoy Irrikah to your heart’s content.”
“On the house, then. My favorite phrase.”
We took our drinks and retreated to one of the tables along the wall. It was isolated and somewhat hidden but offered a clear
view of the room.
Halek took a sip from the cup in his hand and immediately coughed.
“Oh goddess, that is . . . sweet,” he wheezed.
“And strong. I can almost feel my teeth retreating into my head.” He coughed once more, then set his glass on the table and looked at me.
“So, what do you think of this place, Sparrow?” he asked in a low voice.
“Not just the tavern—sorry, the sylgellia—but this whole kingdom. Irrikah, the city of the Deathless queen.”
“I . . .” I hesitated, trying to put my thoughts together. Figure out what I had felt ever since I’d set foot in the palace.
“I don’t think they like outsiders,” I said, making Halek nod. “They’re being hospitable because we’re guests of the queen,
but I don’t think they want us here.”
“Yes, that was fairly obvious,” Halek said. “And it can be quite common in such insulated societies. The iylvahn don’t get
many visitors, I’d guess. And, from what Raithe has told us, I can see why. To the iylvahn, everyone who comes to Irrikah
is a threat. To their safety and their queen.”
“That’s why everyone forgets about Irrikah when they leave, I suppose,” I muttered.
Halek furrowed his brow. “Yes, about that,” he said thoughtfully. “So, how are we going to know what we’re supposed to do
regarding Maederyss’s loom?” he asked. “If we don’t remember anything about Irrikah or what happened while we were here, how
does the queen expect us to accomplish the impossible mission she’s sending us on?”
“I . . .” I blinked. “That’s a good question.”
One I hadn’t even considered until now, but the Fatechaser was right.
How would we know what to do if we lost all memories of what happened in the city?
“I’m guessing the queen knows that already and has accounted for it,” I said.
“It would be silly to give us such an important mission and then have us forget about it the second we leave Irrikah. Or, maybe . . .” I frowned.
“Maybe we’ll remember the mission, but not the city.
I don’t know. I would ask Raithe, but . .
. I can’t rely on him to tell us anything. ”
And then, as if the goddess had somehow heard our conversation, two kahjai entered the tavern.
I straightened, and Halek glanced over. His eyes widened. Quickly, I scooted back into the shadow of the wall, ducking my
head so they wouldn’t see me. I didn’t know why I had such a reaction; neither kahjai was Raithe. One was a female; the other,
a sharp, angular male. I recognized them by their distinctive white hoods and the easy, predatory grace with which they walked
into the room.
The other iylvahn noticed them as well, though they pretended not to. Bodies stiffened very slightly, eyes tightening then
glancing away. The iylvahn playing the harp on the divan continued plucking the strings with no change in the music, but I
saw the thinning of her lips, the ripple of distaste crossing her features. The two kahjai retrieved a bottle of wine from
the bar, then continued to an isolated corner.
My heart picked up. Raithe wouldn’t tell me anything about the kahjai. From what I’d learned from the queen, I knew they had
their own code, their own rules, their own conclave. And even their own people seemed to fear them. Why?
Halek looked at me and raised an eyebrow. “What are you thinking, Sparrow?” he asked, lowering his voice. “You have that ‘I’m
going to go be sneaky’ look.”
I frowned at him. “I’m not going to be sneaky. I’m just going to . . . wander over there and make sure they don’t see me.” Halek grinned, and I sighed. “They’re kahjai. I want to know more about them. I figure this is the only way I’m going to learn.”
“Uh-huh. And this has nothing to do with a particular kahjai, does it?”
“Are you going to help me or not?”
His grin widened, and he slid out of his chair, grabbing his wineglass. “Distraction, then?” he asked, and gave me a wink.
“Not a problem, I’m very good at being distracting.”
He sauntered across the room, being very obvious, and walked up to the harp player in the center. She pulled back, staring
at him with suspicious eyes, and the harp chords faltered. Halek smiled cheerfully and introduced himself, ignoring the cold
stares from everyone in the room. Abruptly, he started singing, his clear tenor voice rising over the harp, and the iylvahn’s
glares went from disdainful to appalled.
While everyone was gazing at Halek, I slipped out of my seat and melted into the shadows along the wall. There weren’t many;
the tavern was fairly well lit. But I managed to stealth my way across the floor and slide behind a large potted plant near
the two kahjai in the corner. I couldn’t see them, but after a moment, a sultry female voice drifted to me through the leaves.
“Ugh, the outsider is very noisy. Should we try Nessyll’s bar? It’s down by the water, but at least it will be quieter.”
“I invited Raithe to meet us here,” said the other kahjai, and everything inside me froze. “I figured he needed one free night
in his homeland before he has to venture out with those people again.”
My stomach turned over at the mention of Raithe. So, these were his friends. The people he spent time with in Irrikah. I wondered if all the conclave members were close. If Raithe considered them family or if they were merely colleagues, even rivals.
“I don’t know why these outsiders are here,” the female kahjai said, sounding disgusted. “I know the queen needed to speak
with the Fateless, but none of them looked special or competent enough to be Fateless.” She snorted. “Maybe it’s the insect
rider? At least her clan are warriors.”
“It’s the girl,” said the other, causing the ice in my veins to spread. “I heard she’s a thief from Kovass. She fled the city
when the Deathless King was resurrected.”
I bit my lip. The kahjai were aware of the Deathless King. Did the rest of the city know? Or was the queen keeping the king’s
presence a secret to avoid panic?
The female kahjai made another noise of contempt. “Bad enough that the outsiders would destroy us if they had the chance,”
she muttered. “Now they raise one of the Deathless Kings to conquer the world for them. I know the queen has been waiting
for the Fateless, but I don’t know why Raithe didn’t slit the rest of their throats before they reached Irrikah.”
“He’s always been like that, and you know it.” The other kahjai’s voice was a warning. “Always more interested in the outside
world than his homeland where he belongs. Strangely sympathetic to outsiders.” He sighed. “I don’t know why the queen chose
him to be kahjai when he is so reluctant to kill. She must see something in him that we don’t.”