Miresh was gone again, this time watching a blacksmith at work with hammer and grindstone, repairing blades and armour. Aralim agreed to play a game of cards with his friends, and he picked up the strategy quickly. It was a betting game that involved an unusual deck of cards. While in Aralim’s homeland, cards consisted of three numbered suits, Hayan assured him that this was a normal arrangement. There were two colours, usually red and grey. Each colour included two of every card—two Rulers, two Masters, two Commoners, two Slaves, as well as optional wild cards. As the deck was rather small by his experience, he found he could quickly count the cards and guess accurately what might be dealt. Unfortunately, everyone who played could too and Naeen quickly outwitted both Hayan and Aralim.
It was in between games when they had their guest of the day. Aralim had offered to pour them drinks, and was standing near the door of the common room when a knock at the front door echoed through the foyer. The chamberlain of their West Corid Estate, Ko’nagar opened the door and then glanced toward the common room where Aralim leaned through the door frame. “It is Mistress Yakalaka,” Ko said, quietly.
“Come in,” Aralim said, striding across the foyer. The floors in the foyer, unlike the plain rock of the rest of the mansion, were polished serpent-stone, imported from the Expanse at great cost. Yakalaka’s black leather sandals loudly tapped as she stepped inside. Two of her guards followed her closely, one with a helmet sculpted to have iron feathers and the other with a blank iron faceplate and circular eye holes. “I hope you are doing well, mistress.”
“I am. How are your friends and yourself?” she asked, politely. Yakalaka wore her long braid behind her head this time and had delicate vine-like make-up painted along the shaves sides of her scalp. The foreign affairs minister wore a plain dark red robe.
“Excellent,” Aralim said.
While Naeen had not stirred, Hayan leaned in the door of the common room. He scratched his chest through the baggy beige shirt he wore and said, “Well, our luck in cards aside…”
Yakalaka flashed a bright smile. “There’s a group I know of, members of the Three Courts. It’s a high stakes game, but if any of you have the aptitude…”
“I’ll tell Naeen,” Hayan said, and turned away.
In the company of just the house staff and her escort, Yakalaka looked at Aralim with a stoic face. “Could I speak to you alone?” she asked. “I have a business proposal.”
“Of course,” Aralim said. “We could go upstairs?”
“Guards, await me here,” she said, and followed him. She lifted the bottom of her red robe just enough to climb the steps. The iron railing along the curved stairwell resembled waves, despite Rema’s landlocked position. She followed the surface with her hand as Aralim led her to the private quarters on the second floor.
One room had only cushioned armchairs and a table, so he closed its door behind them. “What’s this about?” he asked.
“I’ve been quite impressed with your time here so far,” she said. “You know what information to share and what not to. Take the shouting of the Palace attacker a month and a half ago. You knew exactly what to avoid saying to me. I trust you to not speak of this meeting either.”
She meant it as a compliment, he realized. “I’m not yet sure what I’m not saying, but thank you.” Aralim stood in front of a nearby tiled wall while the middle-aged woman leaned against the table’s edge. He was older than her, he was certain.
“There is a certain job I would like done,” she said. “Nothing harmful, worry not. But someone trusted by the First Court is a must.”
“A job like this seems like a good way to end up in the very situation of which you spoke a few weeks ago, when we first spoke,” Aralim said. She had told him that Miresh and he would not be able to sever the ties they were making to Rema and the Iron Palace. That they would be bound here permanently.
“I’m not here to discuss that,” she said, bluntly. “I can offer you information on the attacker you witnessed. I know of the autopsy they performed. The task I would ask is dangerous, but you will make your choice based on the Path and nothing else, I assume.”
Aralim shrugged. “That is my first consideration, yes.”
“Rattar has, in his quarters, a small knife. I will not be using the weapon against anyone in the Iron Palace. I must settled a score, pay a debt, so to speak. With an enemy of mine from this side of those royal walls.”
“You want me to steal a knife from Rattar?” Aralim asked.
Yakalaka nodded. “It resembles glass. But it is not. I will only say, you must not harm yourself with it. Not even a scratch.”
Aralim tilted his head. Her proposition grew stranger with each added information. “He’s the Grand Mage? How am I to steal it?”
“Easily,” Yakalaka said. “He trusts you. He trusts Miresh even more! Will you do this for me, Aralim?”
Aralim crossed from the mosaic wall to the breezy window, where humid air gently pressed against his bearded face. Across the street, a poor man was selling reeds and reed-sewn crafts. His haggling echoed over the garden wall and up to the second storey balcony as Aralim considered his options. Rattar was most certainly more powerful than Yakalaka. So Aralim turned back to the politician and said, “Come back in a few weeks. I should have figured something out by then.”
Yakalaka smiled again. “Wonderful. I’m glad I can trust you. Let me know if there is any way I can help.”
Later that afternoon, Miresh and her guards returned. Her plain brown hair had been cut shorter again, but her skinny torso was garbed in a long blue tunic and her lantern staff flickered orange against the side of her face. She sat with Aralim on a balcony, as they often did, with her legs hanging off into the air below. She told him what she had learned this day, how the smith used force and heat to displace the metal around blemishes to smooth them. She was frustrated because Rattar had not taught her how to create heat yet, but it seemed a staple ingredient in their processes.
“Do you remember Yakalaka?” Aralim asked her, when she was done her story.
Miresh nodded. “Of course! She walked with us when we went to the fair. Did she come and visit you again?”
Aralim nodded. “It seems Ovoe the Keeper was right. Everyone does keep visiting me. Yakalaka was here with a request for me. She’d like me to steal a magic knife from Rattar.”
“Really?” Miresh asked. “Why?”
Aralim explained it to her as best he could, but Yakalaka hadn’t given him too much information about the cause behind this plan. “What do you think we should do?” Aralim asked his young friend.
Miresh thought about it for a moment, swinging her feet to and from. “I think we should do it,” she said. “Then we’ll have another friend on the First Court and Rattar certainly won’t expect it be us who did it.”
Aralim glanced at her in surprise. He tugged on his beard and then said, “But I’m more concerned about a pre-existing friendship. The Eternal Emperor basically told me that Rattar is his only friend, and the Emperor’s Aura would certainly notice my burglary.”
Miresh nodded. “I didn’t think of that,” she piped, quietly. She looked at him. “Should we tell Yakalaka no?”
“I think we should just tell Rattar,” Aralim said, quietly. Miresh nodded.