Sarai winced, eyes closed, as she slit the dog's throat. The animal thrashed wildly, and hot blood sprayed on Sarai's hands, but she kept her hold.
And as it struggled, Sarai felt a surge of heat, of strength, all through her; without meaning to, she tightened her grip on the dying dog and felt the flesh yielding beneath her fingers. Her heart was pounding, her muscles were tense.
Then the dog went limp, sagging to the ground between her legs, and the world suddenly seemed to flood in on her; her ears rang with strange new sounds, and her vision seemed suddenly sharper and more intense, as if everything was outlined against the background of the Wall Street Field-though for a moment, the colors seemed to fade away, as if drowned out by the clarity of shape and movement.
Most of all, though, scents poured in. She could smell everything, all at once-the dog's blood, her own sweat, her sex, the dirt of the Field, the sun-warmed stone of the city wall, the smokes and stenches of every individual shop or home on Wall Street or the blocks beyond. She could tell at once which of the empty blankets and abandoned tents of the Field were mildewed or decayed and which were still clean and wholesome; she could smell the metal of the Black Dagger itself.
For a moment she stood over the dead dog, just breathing in the city, marveling at it all. She had known that dogs could smell better than mere humans, of course, everyone knew that, but she had never before realized how much better, and she had never imagined what it would be like.
Her attempts to find Lord Torrut had, so far, been unsuccessful; she had found no one in the barracks or the gatehouses. Now, though, she wondered if she could locate him by smell, track him down by following his scent. She had heard about dogs doing such things and had always dismissed the stories as exaggerations, but now, she had to reconsider. She could smell everything.
She was stronger now, too; she could feel it. The dog had not been particularly strong or healthy, just a half-starved stray scavenging in the almost-empty Field, but she had felt the power in her grip as she held it while it died.
Tabaea had killed a dozen men-Sarai tried to imagine just how strong that made her feel, and couldn't.
And Tabaea had killed several dogs, as well, Sarai remembered-she, too, had experienced this flood of scent and sound and image.
Scents-that explained some of Tabaea's mysterious abilities. It wasn't magic, not in the way Sarai and the others had assumed; she could smell people approaching; she could hear them, like a watchdog. People said dogs could smell fear, as well, could tell friend from foe by scent-could Tabaea?
Until now, Sarai had viewed Tabaea as a mysterious and powerful magician, her talents and abilities beyond any ordinary explanation, her mind beyond understanding; now, suddenly, she thought she understood the usurper. Sarai had assumed that Tabaea had created the Black Dagger deliberately, knowing what she was doing; that she had studied magic, had set out to conquer Ethshar. It was the Black Dagger that gave her her physical strength and immunity to harm, the wizards had told Sarai that, but now Sarai began to believe that all Tabaea's power came from the dagger.
Without it, did she have any magic?
Well, she presumably still had her warlockry, and maybe witchcraft-Teneria and Karanissa had said that Tabaea had the talent, as they called it, but didn't know how to use it properly.
And she had her canine sense of smell and her accumulated strength and stolen lives.
Sarai remembered the dead cats and the dead pigeon; could Tabaea have stolen the bird's ability to fly? What had she gotten from the cats?
Well, Sarai thought, holding up the bloody dagger, there was one way to find out, wasn't there?
The first cat came as a revelation; the addition to her strength was nothing, smell and hearing got no better, but the increase in her speed and the intense sensitivity to movement were as big a surprise as the dog's sense of smell. That was how Tabaea could react so quickly when she fought!
The pigeon was a waste of time; that explained why dead birds hadn't littered the city when Tabaea was building herself up.
The next step, Sarai decided, was an ox, for the raw strength it would provide; Tabaea had used people, but Sarai had no intention of committing murder.
Unfortunately, there were no stray oxen wandering in the Wall Street Field. Buying an ox was not difficult-if one had money. Sarai had no money to speak of, just a few borrowed coppers in the purse on her belt. The family treasure had gone to sea with her father and brother, while the family income was gone with Lord Tollern and the overlord.
Perhaps she could borrow more money somewhere, she thought. The obvious place to go would be the Guildhouse, since that was where the richest and most powerful of her nominal allies were, but she still did not care for the idea of walking in there with the Black Dagger on her belt. She thought she could trust Mereth, and Tobas seemed like a reasonable person, but Telurinon and Algarin and the rest…
Tobas was not living in the Guildhouse, though; he and his wives were staying at the Cap and Dagger. Lady Sarai sniffed the air, without consciously realizing she was doing it. She stretched, catlike, then flexed her shoulders in a way that would have fluffed a pigeon's feathers out nicely. Then she wiped the Black Dagger clean, sheathed it, and headed out of the Field, up onto Wall Street, and toward Grandgate.
From the market, she turned down Gate Street; the Cap and Dagger was six blocks down on the right.
As she walked, she soaked in the odors and sights of a city turned strange and rich by her augmented senses. She could, she found, tell what each person she passed had eaten for his or her last meal and how long ago that meal was; she could detect the slightest twitch of a hand or an eye. She spotted rats foraging in an alley and knew that she would never have seen them without the Black Dagger's spell.
She saw someone glance oddly at her and realized that she was moving strangely, her gaze darting back and forth, her nose lifted to catch the air. She forced herself to look straight ahead. Then she was at the inn; she stood in the door until the inn-Keeper came to ask what she wanted.
Sarai was sure she had not seen the man before and wondered where he had hidden himself when the wizards held their meeting in his establishment.
"I'm looking for a man named Tobas of Telven," she said. "Or if he's not here, one of his wives."
The innkeeper frowned, then directed her to a room upstairs. Sarai thanked him, and was about to head up, when the man reconsidered. "Maybe I'd better come with you," he said. "I don't know you, and I don't want any trouble."
"There won't be any trouble," Sarai said, but the innkeeper insisted. Together, they ascended the stairs and found the door of the room Tobas, Karanissa, and Alorria shared. The innkeeper knocked.
"Yes?" a woman's voice called. Sarai had not entirely adjusted to her new hearing, so much more sensitive to high-pitched sounds, so at first she didn't recognize it.
"There's a woman here to see your husband," the innkeeper called.
Sarai heard footsteps, and then the door opened; Alorria leaned out. "Tobas isn't here," she said. She spotted Sarai, and said, "Oh, it's you, La… it's you, Sarai. Is there anything I can do?"
"I hope so," Sarai said. "May I come in?"
"Oh. All right, come in." She swung the door wide. Sarai stepped in, and Alorria closed it gently in the innkeeper's face.
"Thank you," she called to him as the door shut.
Then, for a moment, the two women stared at each other, Sarai unsure how to begin, Alorria unsure she had done the right thing admitting anyone when she was alone and so clumsy and helpless with her swollen belly.
But after all, Lady Sarai was a friend and a fellow noblewoman.
Sarai looked around the room, at the three beds, the table that held basin and pitcher, and the two large trunks, while Alorria studied her guest's face. "Why do you want to see Tobas?" the princess asked.
"Well, I probably don't need to," Sarai said. "I really just need to borrow some money. I'll pay it back as soon as things are back to normal."
Alorria blinked, slightly startled. "Why do you need to borrow money?" she asked.
"To buy an ox."
Alorria stared at Sarai. "Why do you want an ox?"
"To kill," Sarai explained. "As part of a spell."
Alorria frowned. "You're doing magic now? Isn't there enough of that already?"
Sarai shrugged. "I don't know," she said. "Is there?"
"Well, I certainly thought so," Alorria said, settling awkwardly onto the edge of the nearest bed. "That's where Tobas and Kara are-the Wizards' Guild is trying some horrible spell on Tabaea, with the help of the warlocks, and Karanissa and the other witches are all standing by to help, at the palace or the Guildhouse or places in between."
"What kind of a spell?" Sarai asked, seating herself on the next bed over. She berated herself for not realizing that the wizards would still be trying their spells on Tabaea, even without knowing the Black Dagger had been removed, and she suddenly wished that she had gone straight to the Guildhouse when she had first stolen the dagger. She didn't like it when things went on that she didn't know about, particularly anything as bizarre as wizards and warlocks working together.
And how could warlocks help with anything, when Tabaea was a warlock herself? Warlockry didn't work on warlocks.
"Oh, I don't know," Alorria said, flustered. "I leave all the magic up to Tobas and Kara, and I take care of the rest of it."
"Oh, but…" Sarai began.
Alorria interrupted, "It's called the Seething Death; Tobas got it from that horrible old book of Derithon's, and nobody's used it in about five hundred years."
Sarai's mouth twitched. "I thought you didn't know anything about magic."
"I don't," Alorria insisted, "not really. But I do know about my husband." She smiled weakly.
Sarai smiled back, but it was not a terribly sincere smile. "The Seething Death" sounded dangerous, and she had never heard of it before. Maybe building up her strength with an ox could wait; watching this spell might be more important. And some high official of the overlord's government ought to be there when Tabaea died. The overlord himself had sailed off to Ethshar of the Spices with Lord Tollern and Sarai's own father and the rest, and Lord Torrut was in hiding; Sarai knew she was probably the highest-ranking official available.
That assumed that the spell would work on Tabaea, but with the Black Dagger gone Sarai thought that was a reasonable assumption. And if it didn't kill her, Sarai wanted to see that, too, to see how Tabaea defended herself without the knife.
"The Seething Death," the spell was called. Where had it come from, anyway?
"Who's Derithon?" she asked,
"Derithon the Mage," Alorria said. "Karanissa's first husband-or lover, anyway. He's been dead for centuries. She had his book of spells when she first met Tobas, and she couldn't use it, since she's a witch instead of a wizard, so she gave it to Tobas, and that's where he got most of his magic."
"Centuries?" There was obviously even more of a story to this threesome than she had realized.
"Derithon put a youth spell on her. How much does an ox cost, anyway?"
"About three rounds of silver, I think. So Tobas is working this Seething Death spell?"
"Oh, no!" Alorria said. "He thinks it's much too dangerous, that it's really stupid. Telurinon did it before Tobas could stop him."
The last remnants of Sarai's smile vanished. She stood up. "I think I better go," she said. "Forget about the ox; I need to see what's going on at the palace." Alorria smiled up at her. "Be careful," she said. Sarai didn't answer; she was already on her way out the door. Tobas was a sensible person, despite his peculiar domestic arrangements, but Telurinon-Telurinon was an overeducated idiot who wanted to prove to the Inner Circle how powerful he was. What's more, he was an overeducated idiot who still thought Tabaea had the Black Dagger protecting her.
Whatever this spell was, Telurinon expected it to overpower the Black Dagger. Sarai was sure of that; Tobas or Heremon or Algarin might have found some way around the dagger's magic, but Telurinon would have just thrown more and more magic back at it. Unchecked wizardry could do an amazing amount of damage, and there was no Black Dagger in the palace to blunt this Seething Death.
Sarai had to force herself not to draw attention by running as she headed for the palace.