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‘Thank you,’ she said, managing a weak smile.
‘Go,’ said Olmaat. He turned to Jari
He and his Tai moved out of the yard, their footfalls making nothing more than a whisper on the cobbles. In comparison, Lorius and his boots seemed to ring out to all who wanted to find them. The pace was necessarily slow. Lorius had problems with both of his knees and Jari
Overhead, clouds were gathering. Another deluge was very close. The air was close and hot. The tallest trees of the canopy reached up, greedy for it to start. The hoots and calls and chitters of myriad species exhorted Gyal’s tears to fall. Thunder rattled high above, booming through the heavens.
Olmaat turned left into the wide Avenue of Gyaam. Ahead, the expanse of the spice market beckoned. It only operated every tenth day, and never when the Gardaryn was in session. A few elves could be seen looking at displays in the shops that bordered the stone-flagged and pitch-marked marketplace, and that was strange enough.
‘I would have thought spices the least of their concerns right now,’ muttered Lorius.
As rain began to fall, footsteps could be heard behind them. Ru
‘Hithuur,’ he said. ‘I’m glad you’re safe.’
The tall gaunt scripture scholar lived at Aryndeneth, rarely travelling to the city. He had come to the temple a broken ula. His family lost to the Garonin. Only in Yniss had he found solace and he was a fervent student. Jari
Hithuur had never said but surely he wanted to be accepted as one of the Silent. There was a passion in his eyes and a determination in the set of his body and the questions he asked. And he did not seek the love of another iad. He clung to the belief that his family was still alive, one day to be found and freed.
‘I had to know you would be safe,’ said Hithuur, trotting up while gathering his shirt collar against the rain.
‘I am with Olmaat. How much safer can I get?’
Hithuur did not smile. ‘You’re ru
The rain fell in stair rods, bouncing from the cobbles and setting up a roar on domed and steep-pitched roofs all around them. Olmaat set himself between Jari
‘What’s the problem beyond the market?’ asked Olmaat.
‘We’ve had information that-’ Hithuur looked briefly at Lorius ‘-elves of other threads want to kidnap you. Use you as currency in a power struggle. They all know the limited ways you can leave the city from the Gardaryn. You should lie low, High Priest Jari
‘It makes sense, Olmaat,’ said Jari
‘Where is this place?’ asked Olmaat.
‘The Hausolis Playhouse.’
‘A major public building,’ said Olmaat. ‘Surely you could have found something a little more obvious? The lawn of the temple piazza perhaps.’
Hithuur’s face darkened a shade. ‘It has significant benefits. Not least that it is closed during the grieving period for Jilad Kantur. And from the rear, no one overlooks those arriving or leaving. It is secure.’
‘I’ll be the judge of that,’ said Olmaat. ‘Tai. A hundred paces ahead. Left and right. Quick and silent.’
Olmaat’s Tai turned north. At the corners of a side street, they swarmed up the sides of houses as fast as most elves could run. Scaling tiled roofs designed to cha
‘They are something to behold,’ he said to Hithuur, looking across at the adept. Hithuur turned to him, his expression one Jari
Hithuur tried a smile. ‘No, no. Just regret that I am not good enough to be one of them.’
‘But you will make a fine addition to another order,’ said Jari
Olmaat gestured his charges before him and followed along behind. The front of the playhouse bordered an area of gardens. They were a popular gathering place where people ate, drank and watched entertainment provided by a legion of jugglers, singers and minstrels before the main event.
With the theatre dark while they grieved for their principal actor, the lawns were empty of the revellers who would shelter under leathers when the heaviest rains fell. Jari
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Jari
‘Nothing,’ said Olmaat. ‘I need to be sure we aren’t observed.’
He moved on at some signal Jari
Hithuur was right: the rear access was secure. But you had to get there unseen too. Olmaat stopped in the yard, in the lee of the playhouse and spoke to his Tai. One of them scaled the gates and headed into the waste ground. The other pulled open the rear door and vanished inside. Olmaat gestured the others to him. The rain battered against the playhouse and drummed high from the stone flags that paved the yard.
Jari
‘Hithuur,’ said Olmaat. ‘What will my Tai find inside? What will I see?’
Hithuur nodded. ‘The staging area is behind this door. It is clear and empty. Directly ahead is the auditorium. The curtains are drawn, and beyond them steps up to the stage. We’ll be safe here. There is food and others are coming to ensure we get to Aryndeneth safely.’
‘High Priest Jari
The door to the playhouse edged open. Olmaat’s Tai emerged.
‘It is empty,’ she said. ‘The auditorium is silent.’
Olmaat nodded and led them inside. Jari
Directly ahead, the curtains were closed and still. Beyond them, the oval stage was surrounded by benches on the ground floor and two tiers of balcony seating above. It was a wonderful place. Warm and light and full of emotion. Much of the emotion hung in the air even now. But that wasn’t what Olmaat was sensing. The TaiGethen was sniffing at the air. He gestured his Tai towards the curtains.
‘Olmaat?’
Olmaat raised a hand. ‘A moment, my priest. Something smells wrong.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘There is something in here not of the rainforest.’
‘Hithuur?’ Jari
Hithuur spread his hands. ‘I’ve no idea what he’s talking about.’
‘Olmaat?’
‘Something is not right.’
Jari