After an hour wandering the crowded streets of Sündalǚ, I decided to buy a green tunic and a new hat. I considered shoes, to better blend in, but decided against it—one must be oneself, and the best style is brio.
Suitably attired, I needed a gift, something more interesting than a pretty brooch. I needed to find Curiosity Lane.
As it turned out, it was called Various Items Street.
The cobblestone street was narrow and steep and crooked with overhanging floors. The street wasn’t as busy as the others, which is to say it wasn’t packed and the people were stranger. A shady looking sheep slipped past me, and I held onto my purse.
I hunted through the shops. Antiques, astrological tools, witchcraft and alchemical supplies, parrots, a guild house, art, street stalls of charms and shrine accoutrements. I considered some divination stones, a jade wand, an elaborate orrery, but settled on a fine book of special interest that seemed appropriate. And safer, to be honest.
I continued up the Rock. The houses rose in height and grandeur, though still jammed together. The Countess Niuka’s townhouse was discreetly tucked into the back of a cul-de-sac, ivy spilling from the garden beds, the iron gate in the stone arch slightly ajar. I closed it behind me and climbed the short, steep staircase to the impressive front door. The lunette above the door featured dolphins leaping before a goblet.
I knocked and waited. I looked back at the city: the domes, the maze of streets and canals, the little bridges, the ocean. It was a warm day with a fresh breeze.
The door opened, and I was shown into the Countess’s sitting room.
“Good afternoon,” Niuka said, turning from the window. “I was just wondering the other day if you were still alive.”
“Forgive my long absence, Lady Niuka. My safe return was ever in my thoughts—as were you, in moments of greatest peril. Please—the smallest token.”
The Countess took the book and turned it over, feeling the cover.
“Oh yes, Xú Ping’s Meditations. What a lovely edition. Very thoughtful,” she said, placing it to one side. “Please—no more flattery. What have you got for me?”
We spoke for about half an hour. The details needn’t bother us. Suffice to say, we both got what we wanted. And I had another small piece of the puzzle.
We burnt two of the documents in an incense holder and I left via a rear door with the third.
I headed back to Jethro’s shop on a circuitous route, ruminating on all that had been said. But a gecko’s eyes are always open. I suddenly realised I had seen a lot of sheep today, though all of them seemed to be simply going about their business. It seemed paranoid, but my hands tingled. Why sheep? I tried to remember the first one I’d seen… the young goats who’d dashed off as I left Jethro’s in the morning! Yes, and that man at the bread stall when the city guards passed. It could’ve been for any number of reasons, but…
I passed a gazelle, and picked up the pace. I was in an unfamiliar part of town, and starting to feel like my options were dwindling. No one had tailed me to the Countess’s, I was sure of that, but it didn’t matter if she wasn’t what they were after. I had the document on me. I ducked into Tumbling Garden and headed back up the Rock through the old trees, exiting onto a walkway that swooped out across a little gorge onto a street of houses. The sun was setting.
A sheep was leaning casually against a wall up ahead. On the street above, someone whistled like a bird talking; someone whistled back. My blood ran cold. This was serious.
I turned down the first staircase and immediately shimmied up the wall and onto a balcony. I waited. The sheep appeared at the top of the stairs and slipped silently down to the lower street. The whistling. The way he was moving.
A sleeman.
Next episode: Snoutfair