The Magehound   ::   Каннингем Элейн

The rows and shelves of clockwork creatures didn't interest her. Tzigone wanted books. There was a new rumor on the streets, whispers suggesting that the records of the secret Cabal might be kept under the queen's watchful eye. If that were true, Tzigone might finally find some clue about her ancestry, a clue that might lead her to learn of her mother's fate.

She found a small room off the workshop filled with scrolls and volumes. With a small cry of delight, she settled down to read. These were not the Cabal records-the script was Halruaan, not the unique Southern Magic runes developed to protect the land's magical secrets. But they were interesting nonetheless.

The hours slipped by as she searched, but none of the names listed in the elaborate genealogies jogged her memory. Tzigone didn't remember her own name, much less her mother's. She doubted that she ever heard her father's name spoken. She found very little that would help her, but there was some very interesting information about Matteo and his fellow jordaini.

"Here now, what are you doing here?" demanded a dry and indignant voice.

Tzigone started and looked up. A wisp of a man regarded her peevishly. He was not much older than she, but his hair was the color of dust and his frame was as insubstantial as a reed. Chances were she could burst right past him. But her chances of dashing out of the palace without being stopped were considerably less likely.

"Oh, good," she said with feigned relief. "I was hoping that a scribe would happen by. You are a scribe, aren't you?"

The man frowned in puzzlement. "Yes, of course. But what need would a jordain have of my services? You do not send or carry written messages."

Tzigone realized her misstep. "I'm sure I don't know," she said sullenly. "Matteo told me to have some spells copied out, and he also wants a shopping list of the required components. I can only assume they're for the queen."

The scribe's look of suspicion deepened. "It has been quite some years since the queen requested either spells or components."

"Well, it's been a while since she went out on a picnic, hasn't it?" retorted Tzigone.

This logic silenced the scribe for a moment. "You don't look familiar," he said, eyeing her intently. "I keep the household accounts. You are not of this house."

"No," she agreed. "I'm Matteo's friend. He sort of invited me here."

"How unfortunate for him," said a resonant alto voice at the door.

The scribe spun to face the king's counselor.