Mira had been listening and watching in various rooms of the palace that the servants worked in for two days. She felt like a spider no one could see. Even though she could sit on the vertical surface of the wall and see and hear everything that took place in a room, it was surprisingly tiring to sit still for very long without making noise, and she started getting pains in her neck. From her perspective, she had to look up for hours at a time. Mira started laying down on the walls so she could look straight out across the rooms and avoid getting a crick in her neck. It worked well for ceilings, too. She had learned a whole lot of nothing so far, though. At least she knew of all the usual servants that worked in the royal apartments. Mira knew that patterns emerged from observation, and that deviations in those patterns are easier to detect over time.

  Over the next few days, Mira started following individual servants that piqued her curiosity both inside and outside the palace. Bandit even volunteered to watch some other ones that Mira pointed out, but her attention span was questionable, so Mira didn’t ask her to do anything too important. None of the servants she followed did anything in the least bit treacherous. They all led normal, boring lives.

  Mira had to postpone her surveillance on Threedays and Sixdays because of the rain. Even though she was invisible, the rain was not, and it would betray her by her wet footprints or a big wet spot on the wall. On those days, Mira stayed on the Unseen Blade and read from a book of notes on magic that the Pirate King had acquired. She was determined to learn about something. Besides, reading kept her from dwelling on me and what a jerk I’d become. I wish I was making this up, but I was watching once when she said that to Bandit. It was hurtful.

  Mira decided that she needed to watch the members of the royal family next. She spent a day watching the king himself. King Korban Mithram V was a slim, vibrant man in his fifties, Mira guessed. He was dressed every day by servants in a suit of clothes that looked very expensive but wasn’t so gaudy that it hurt the eyes to look at it. There was no crown of gold on the king’s mostly white-haired head. He didn’t parade around in a bunch of gold and jewelry, though surely, he could have. That had to count for something. The king’s suites were very large rooms full of furniture that was gilded and opulently decorated, but she couldn’t fault him for that. Mira didn’t care very much about the environment beyond thinking of ways she could move around undetected, but a king needed to impress important people from time to time, and a king couldn’t live like a pauper.

  King Korban V was attended by many servants that Mira had to be careful of in her surveillance. She already knew all of them, however. To her eyes, the king looked like he was turning into a hermit. He had exiled Queen Limoria to a nearby suite of rooms, apparently. He started drinking at lunch each day and his mood got darker until he went to bed at night. It was hard to watch that. The king was muttering to himself about members of his own family and all the imagined faults that General Redfield had informed her of. Mira was reminded of what Elle had gone through in her childhood, and she was amazed that Elle had survived. During the whole day of watching King Korban, Mira didn’t see anything that looked suspicious. Maybe he just had a drinking problem. It couldn’t be just that, though, or the general would not have been so alarmed.

  Mira called it quits and went back to the ship. This boring work was a new part of spying that she needed to get used to. She was frustrated, but maybe tomorrow something would turn up.

  -----

  Elle turned around for me so I could see how the chain shirt fit her. It was very tight in the chest, which was a good thing. Mira was smaller in the bust than Elle, and the adamantine chain shirt that I was making had to fit the wearer snugly in order to fit under normal civilian clothes without being noticeable. In making this, I had to imbue power into each link and make the chainmail a little bit at a time for this to work. The end result would be a suit of mail that lessened the power of blows being inflicted, which would make a gambeson unnecessary. Adamantine was not flexible at all and would not move once it was set in its final form, so I couldn’t break any of the links once they were welded closed. I had to get the shape right on the first try. Elle was kind enough to be a model for my work as it progressed little by little. Now I just had to add a few more inches to cover the hips to the upper thigh and I’d be done. It was too tight on Elle around the hips, too, but she didn’t complain. Bran didn’t complain, either. Shocking.

  “Thanks for helping with this, Elle. I know it’s awkward and uncomfortable for you, and I appreciate your assistance,” I said gratefully.

  “I’m happy to help,” Elle said. “These links you’re making are very small and fine. It feels almost like a second skin, but a little cold.”

  “Do you think you can make one of those for Elle when you’re done?” Bran asked.

  “Of course, I will. I have the feeling that time is pressing, though. Mira’s spying on the most powerful people in Aldon, and she’s going to step into a quillbear trap sooner or later. Whatever else happens between us, I want her to have this.”

  Elle turned and raised her arms to Bran. Knowing the drill, Bran grasped the sleeves of the chain shirt at the wrists and slowly pulled straight up as I held down the fringes of her blouse from behind. The armor slid off of Elle as Bran pulled it over her head. Because it fit so tightly, we had previously learned that Elle’s blouse would come all the way off if Bran kept pulling up on the chainmail without someone holding onto the bottom of it at the same time. Fortunately, that first time Bran saw what was happening and stopped after only a couple inches of exposed stomach, saving her some major embarrassment. She was more relaxed about the fitting process now because she trusted us not to take advantage of the situation that way. Boy, was it tempting, though. Bran handed me the chainmail shirt as Elle fixed her hair.

  “Thanks again,” I said.

  “Are you sure you want us to stay out of this?” Elle asked. “We could go to Mithram to talk with Mira on your behalf. If we talk to her first, she might not take a shot at you the moment she sees you.”

  “I think this is something I have to do myself. Thanks, though. I mean, this is blatant bribery, and gifts always work when girls are mad. It always works for dad.”

  “You have a point,” Elle said, smiling sweetly at Bran.

  “Oh, I’ll remember. Count on it,” Bran said.

  “We’ll see,” Elle said. She looked back to the chainmail shirt. “I’ll bet the king doesn’t have one of these. It’s worth a fortune.”

  “Exactly. How can she still be mad at me after seeing this? Besides, I can hold it up in front of me to deflect her first shot,” I said hopefully. “If I can get out just one sentence before she kills me, then I think we’ll be all right.”

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  That statement got a chuckle out of both of them. Bran and Elle shared a nervous glance. They didn’t look very hopeful of my chances. “Better be a good first sentence,” Elle said mostly to herself.

  “Well, if there’s any fighting to be done, I expect you to let me have a chance at that. I may be able to sense it coming, too,” Bran said.

  “I know I can rely on both of you. Knowing Mira, she’ll uncover a whole den of vipers. I intend to help her in any way I can, and rest assured I’ll get you two if there’s any need at all. This isn’t something that’ll resolve itself in a courtroom or with the help of constables, so she’ll probably need all the help she can get.”

  “All right. I’ll hold you to that,” Bran said. He didn’t offer that assistance lightly, I knew.

  “I have to be getting back,” I said wearily. “I’ve got a lot more work to do.”

  “Take care, Jeron,” Elle said. “And get some rest. You look terrible.”

  Bran clapped me on the shoulder. “A bath would do you some good, too.”

  I just sighed. They meant well. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” I smiled ruefully, then teleported back to the roof of the keep.

  -----

  Mira sat in a booth at a tavern called the Fox and Hound in the nobles’ district of Mithram. It was a popular place for young nobles to hang out and drink too much wine. Mira was there for the food, though. She didn’t like to cook for just herself. It was a bit depressing because she kept thinking that she should be cooking for someone other than herself, and that brought her to thoughts of me. She was over the shock of his betrayal, but that still left anger, heartache and sadness crashing through her in alternating waves. Bertie, the waitress, came over to clear her plate away.

  “Would you like another ale, ma’am?” Bertie asked politely.

  “No, thanks, Bertie. What do I owe you?”

  “A silver and two coppers, please.”

  Mira handed her two silvers. The food here was pricey but it was very good.

  “Thanks very much! I’ll check back with you to see if you need anything else,” Bertie said as she spun on her heel and headed back to the kitchen.

  Mira had been observing the other patrons of the tavern while she ate without seeming to eavesdrop. It was something she was very good at. There was a game she used to play as a child where she would pick an interesting person at the marketplace and follow them around to see how they acted and spoke. Mira would amuse herself by pretending to be that person later. No one ever gave her a second glance as an urchin, but they would now. She had altered her methods, but her childhood curiosity remained. In the years since meeting her magical mentor, Whizzbang, Mira had learned to cast illusions and even to physically alter her appearance for short periods when she wanted to. Just an appearance wouldn’t fool anyone for long, so she’d been picking up the mannerisms of people she observed and practiced quick transformations in case she ran into trouble. She knew it would come in handy one day.

  As she listened to various conversations, two men in rich apparel entered the tavern and joined an even richer older man who was seated in the next booth behind her.

  “Ah! Welcome Andros! Good to see you, Methuen. Please join me.”

  “Thanks for the invitation, my Lord Abranias. We’d be delighted,” Andros said. “Busy night here tonight.”

  “Indeed. Bertie! We’ll need another bottle, please!” Lord Abranias called out.

  “Coming right up, milord!”

  They discussed the weather and the rebuilding effort of the docks while they waited for Bertie to bring them the wine. She had a bottle and two clean wine glasses on the table in short order.

  “Will you be needing a meal tonight, milords? We have a side of beef smoking,” Bertie asked.

  “Nothing else for me,” Andros said.

  “The wine is good enough for me for now, thanks,” Methuen said.

  “Very well, milords,” Bertie said pleasantly as she made herself scarce.

  Lord Abranias poured each of his guests a tall glass of wine. “So, what news from the palace?”

  “The king’s condition worsens, I’m afraid,” Andros said too loudly. To Mira’s ear, it was a much louder conversation than they needed to have. It was like they were performing a play. “Even my friend Methuen here has found the king’s behavior most disturbing.”

  Men at neighboring tables had slowed their conversations to eavesdrop when the king was mentioned. They thought they were being secretive about it, but men think a lot of false things when they’ve been drinking.

  “Alas,” Methuen said dramatically. “The king has been raging about the Queen’s unfaithfulness and about Prince Anturin’s incompetence, Princess Starla’s promiscuous nature and raves that Prince Mortalan is plotting to usurp the throne. I’m sure you’ve heard of the destruction of the army from Grunbar at Stonekeep? The king believes a Mordonian sorcerer has arisen there, and that Prince Kimorel is harboring this person. I can’t help but be concerned for my safety as I attend His Majesty’s court. His condition grows worse by the day, it appears.”

  It struck Mira that she knew all the servants in the royal wing of the palace, and she’d never seen this Methuen character before. With the volume of his little speech, Mira knew that he intended everyone around him to hear what he had to say. She also knew a propaganda campaign when she saw one. There was trouble brewing here. The men continued their conversation as Mira thought about it for a few minutes.

  Mira decided that she needed to see where Methuen went and what he did for a while. Her other mentor, Ykaens, had taught her the best way to follow someone was to be gone before they left the premises and to already be there when they arrived at their next destination. Knowing nothing about the man or his habits, Mira could only accomplish half of that, so she got up and quietly went out the front door. She walked down the street half a block and ducked into a small alley, then invoked a spell of invisibility and ran lightly up the exterior wall of the building. Once she got to the roof, she leapt across the street and settled in to wait on the rooftop opposite the Fox and Hound Tavern.

  She only had to wait a half an hour before Andros and Methuen exited the tavern and walked up the street. She followed silently from the rooftops. They didn’t go far, as it turned out. They went into another little tavern much like the Fox and Hound. Mira walked down the front of the building, secure in her invisibility, and crossed the street to get a look through the small window near the front door. It looked to her like the same scene was playing out in this tavern also. Andros and Methuen were seated with another noble two tables from the window where she stood. She put her ear on the window to hear what they were saying. They had the same conversation almost word for word.

  Mira crossed the street and went up the side of the building to wait for her quarry. Now that she touched on the operation of her opponents, it was time to find out what was really going on. Mira waited. An hour later, Andros and Methuen came out the front door and went several blocks away to another tavern. She was going to have to be patient. Another hour later they came out the door again. This time Mira followed them via a circuitous path to the postern gate of an estate that was guarded by two men in the livery of Blackrock. She thought her eyes were deceiving her when they crossed into the light of the lanterns at the gate. They looked completely different. Even their clothes were changed to be shades of gray to match their cloaks. Mira thought about it as they disappeared into the mansion without being challenged by the guards. She definitely saw their faces when they left the last tavern. She knew she was following the right people because they had never entered a crowd and never left her sight. They must have changed their appearance at some point during the route they took on the way back to Duke Blackrock’s estate, but they carried no extra clothes. They had to be Xerith.

  Well, now. Mira had a new starting point for her surveillance. She decided to give General Redfield a report before she started tomorrow’s activities. She remembered how I’d fared in my fight with the Xerith on Stonekeep Castle’s roof. It was a very real possibility that she’d be killed if she was found out, and someone highly placed had to know of the danger, just in case. Mira thought a small message on a single piece of paper wadded up and tossed through the arrow slit of the general’s quarters would suffice. She decided to deliver it tomorrow.

  In the meantime, Mira spent some time scouting around the docks close to the Unseen Blade before sneaking aboard for some shuteye. She thought she was pretty safe before, but now she knew it was an illusion. She was dealing with the Xerith, a race of shapeshifting assassins, and they were deadly dangerous. She couldn’t be too careful.