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“What have we here? Kepple?” He tore away the concealing towel.

“Kepple?” I said. “This is a pot of bobo nuts with honey and hot pepper, from my own kitchen. Kepple is illegal, First Man Lodol, as you well know.”

The Warden and First Man looked toward Jugun. He stood by his booth, a smug grin on his face. “Excuse me,” the Warden said, and walked toward him.

“Our new Warden seems an upright fellow,” I said. Lodol snorted. I lowered my voice. “But I am surprised that you yourself have not won the appointment after so many years of, if I may say so, excellent service.”

“Pfft. I’m no soldier. I have no political aspirations. I’m just a man who does his job. This new fellow won’t be here long, though. He’s got some sense.”

Which meant the new Warden was letting Lodol show him the ropes. Capable Wardens were promoted out of the job within a tenmonth, while lazy or incompetent men could languish for years.

Jugun frowned, then sneered. Whatever the Warden said to him, the mayor’s nephew did not like it. He then emphasized that dislike by grabbing a fistful of the Warden’s sash.

“Excuse me,” Lodol said.

I slipped into the waiting room, where Aneek stood twisting a dishrag in her fists. “What happened? Are you under arrest?”

“No, my dear.” I took the dishrag, shook it out and folded it. “The Public Men seem to think I serve kepple, which I do not do. As for what is happening, the mayor’s nephew is trying to ruin me.”

“Why?”

“An interesting question. Almost as interesting as what this young girl is doing here instead of the Sunset Room?”

I nodded toward Banu, who stood in the corner like a scolded stepchild. “She backed out, of course,” Aneek said, “just as I said she would. I sent Jentel and Jesta in her place.”

Banu stared at the floor. “I’m sorry. I feel terrible…”

“… Nonsense.” I lifted her chin. “I said you could change your mind, and I meant it.” Aneek glared at the ceiling. Later, I’d hear another lecture about spoiling the girls.

But she didn’t understand. Even now, eight of my girls were lounging around us, watching out of the corners of their eyes. If I tried to force Banu, or anyone, to do anything, I’d have an empty house by the end of the tenday. Besides, who wants an unwilling whore? “We always have other work around here, if you want it,” I continued. “Or would you rather go home?”

“Home, sir. Thank you.”

“Aneek, offer a red pitcher to any guests that have not abandoned us…”

“Shut up.” The slurred voice came from behind me. “You didn’t do what I told you to do, so I’m taking her.” Jugun shoved me aside, reached out with one massive hand and clamped onto Banu’s broomstick arm. He pulled her through the door.

I slipped between them and the stairs. “Sir, one moment. This is our laundress. She does not work the rooms.”

Pereek, bless her, spoke up. “I can take her place.”

Banu stared at Jugun with wide, terrified eyes. “Shut up,” Jugun said, sticking a thick gray finger in my face. “Get out of the way, or this…” He threw something that shattered on the floor. “… Will happen to you.” Judging by the shards, he had just smashed a pendant from the chandelier in the main room.

I normally wouldn’t allow anyone to take a girl against her will, but I couldn’t give Jugun an excuse to close my house, either. Really, what choice did I have?

I sighed loudly. “Aneek, show them to the Crimson Room, please. I will bring up a pitcher and refreshments in a moment.”

She blinked at me, astonished, then rushed ahead. Jugun followed, dragging the girl after him.

I stepped into the waiting room and prepared a green pitcher and a plate of hearth crackers. The staff watched, their painted lips pressed tightly together. I hoped I would have the chance to explain why I had to do what I was about to do, and that they would still be around to listen.

I peeked into the main room. The Warden sat at one table, and the Chief Magistrate at another. They were the room’s only occupants, and after all the unpleasantness of the evening, I would probably have to cancel the Honorable Magistrate’s bill.

This mess was costing me a fortune.

I climbed the stairs and padded down the hall. The few occupied rooms were quiet. Privacy was part of the service. I knocked on the door of the Crimson Room. Aneek let me in.

Jugun stood by the bed. He had tossed his sash onto the red coverlet, and was unlacing his shirt. Banu trembled beside the heavy scarlet drapes, silent tears streaming down her face. Aneek studied my expression, wondering what I would do.

I nodded to her. “Thank you, Aneek.” She left. “Sir, I have brought you a splash of wine and a few crackers.” I set them on the end table. “May I hang your shirt in the…”

“Quiet,” Jugun said. “Stand there. You’re going to watch me, and I’ll show you how a man should handle a woman.” Then, with the arrogance of a sword-school bully, he turned his back.

I drew my sleeve knife, said “Why thank you, sir,” and plunged the blade through the back of his neck into his brain.

The strike was neatly done. Jugun turned to rubber in an instant, and I threw a shoulder into him as he crumpled, knocking him onto the bed. I bunched the bed sheets around the wound; it was one thing to wash blood out of covers, another thing entirely when it came to carpets.

Banu drew a huge breath. I pointed at her and said, “Don’t scream!” I then realized I had pointed with the bloody knife. She blanched and fell into a chair, staring at the blade. At least she was quiet.

Jallaran sleeve knives have a cloth fringe around the hilt, to prevent spatters of blood on the wielder’s clothing. My sleeve was clean, as far as I could tell. I tossed the knife into the sheets and wrapped up the corpse.

I rang the service bell. Banu had begun to tremble. “My dear, this might seem harsh to someone as delicate as you, but I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t let him attack you, could I? Besides, he broke a pendant from my chandelier. My grandfather made that chandelier with his own hands, and carried it here all the way from Ape Head Bay.”

I noticed a bulge in Jugun’s boot pouch. I opened the flap and a tiny bean bag fell onto the floor. It was clumsily stitched, with tassels at the corners. I picked it up.

Self-loathing crashed over me like a wave. Suddenly, I needed the knife again. I dug it out of the sheet and pressed the bloody tip against my belly. I’d just killed a Paldan. I was bound for the gibbet, where murderous, whore-selling scum like me belonged. Better a quick thrust into my poisonous heart --

My hands jolted open, and I threw the bag and the knife to the floor. I had wanted to kill myself out of pure self-loathing, because of that little bag. It was filled with rage and hatred, and it was all aimed at me.

Magic. I grabbed the fire tongs and rolled it under the bed.

The door opened and Aneek entered. “River of stars!” she said. “You really did it.” She kicked Jugun in the groin with all her strength.

“There will be time enough for that later, my dear. Right now we have a dead body in our house and a front room full of Public Men. Get the harness from the closet, if you please.”

“River of stars,” Banu said. “River of stars, river of stars, river of stars.”

“You could at least help,” Aneek snapped. She opened a hidden panel, drew out a rope and set it on the service cart. Holding the sheet, Aneek and I hoisted the body onto the cart. We wheeled over to the laundry chute, which was larger in this room than in any other for just this purpose. Not that we use it. Much. Aneek looped the rope around Jugun’s chest.

“Dispose of him in the usual way?”

I met her eye. “Yes. I’ll pull the carriage around the back and dump him by the docks.”

Aneek stared at me, and for a moment I was afraid she’d say That’s not the usual way. Then her gaze darted toward Banu, and she understood. “Oh. Right. The carriage.”

We eased his feet into the chute, then lowered the body all the way to the basement. My back and shoulders strained under the exertion, and I almost dropped the rope. What would the new Warden have done if he heard a corpse falling through the walls? I once again resolved to exercise regularly.

I gestured toward the table and Aneek brought a cup. I filled it from the green pitcher. Aneek lifted it to her mouth, but I stopped her. “I brought that up here for Banu.”

Aneek stripped the bed and threw the covers down the chute. I knelt beside the girl and placed the cup in her hand. She shrank from me. “You don’t have to fear me, my child. I’m here to watch over you. Drink this. It will make you feel better.”

She stared into the cup. “Poison?”

“What? Of course not, my dear. Why would I?”

“Because,” she said, on the verge of tears again, “I saw what you did.”

“It’s true,” Aneek agreed, making the bed without looking at us. “She could put a rope around both our necks.”

“All life is risk. Tell me, Banu: Why would I save you only to kill you?”

She thought a moment, then gulped down the contents of the cup. “What if someone asks what happened tonight? What do I say?”

“It’s simple. Jugun was drunk when he dragged you up here, which is true. He fell asleep before he could harm you, which is almost true. Out of fear, you waited several hours before leaving, which will also be true.”

Banu’s eyelids began to droop. “It’s Lisk stitch magic.”

I led her to the bed. “What’s that, my dear?”

“That bag in his pocket, the one you threw under the bed. The symbol on the top is hatred, and your name spelled in Lisk.” Her feet slid along the carpet, and her chin dipped toward her collar. “The thread binds you…” Her voice trailed off. Aneek threw back the clean coverlet and I eased the girl onto the mattress. We tucked her in. Banu puckered her lips, then began snoring loudly.

“Is this what she was talking about?” Aneek asked as she reached under the bed.

“Don’t!” I lunged for her but she backed away, her face twisting with hatred. She clutched the bag in her fist and darted toward the door. I caught her and ripped the bag from her grasp.

She sagged in my arms. “Zed -- Zedekapriam, I wanted to tell the Warden about Jugun. I wanted to send you to the gibbet!”

I took the fireplace tongs again and lifted the bag. “It isn’t your fault, my dear. I’ve heard of stitch magic, but never seen the real thing. See how the symbol for hatred is sewn with the same thread that spells my name? Whoever carries it feels a loathing inextricably ‘tied’ to me, as it were. Interesting.” I dropped it down the laundry chute.

“What about her?” Aneek said. “She can’t be trusted, Zed. Do you really expect her to lie to a bully like Lodol?”

I opened the door and ushered her into the hall. “My dear, have some faith in me. I know what I’m doing.”

We passed the Magistrate in the hall. Pereek walked beside him. I bowed to them, and she winked at me. Pearls in the sky, she would be hard to replace, no matter what I’d told Aneek.

Which left only the Warden in the front room. He sat in a booth, staring at the empty air. I approached him, hands clasped. “Can I get you something, sir? Cup of wine? Platter of oysters?”

“Sit.”

“With a customer? A Paldan? I couldn’t possibly.”

“Sit down, I say.” I guessed an apology was forthcoming, but nothing in the Warden’s manner suggested contrition. I made a show of glancing around the room before sitting.

“Zedekapriam, I came here tonight because I was told you would commit a crime, nothing more. I have no vendetta against you personally. Do you understand why I have to say this?”

By his expression, I guessed he was more concerned with his reputation than my wounded feelings. Not exactly surprising. “Because my family is from Ape Head Bay,” I said, “and you have recently fought there.”

“Fought and lost. Your archers tore us apart.”

“You must have distinguished yourself in some manner to have earned this post.”

The Warden waved the remark away. In Pald, men simply did not compliment other men. “Tonight,” he said, “I have been played like a cadet in his first tenday at school. Worse, I must say something which places my reputation in your hands.”

I bowed my head. “You have my complete discretion.”

The Warden frowned, but he had come this far, and would not turn back. “I gave Jugun a small sum to purchase kepple, which he claims to have given to you. I wonder… Sir, why do you smile?”

His voice was sharp with wounded pride; I ignored it. “Good sir, the only thing more preposterous than the suggestion that I sell kepple is that the mayor’s nephew would ever give me money.”

“The man doesn’t pay you?” the Warden said, as though catching me in a bald lie.

“His uncle’s steward settles his bill every third tenday.” The Warden scowled and stood. “May I ask what you intend, Warden?” I could not have the man searching the house for Jugun, but I certainly could not seem anxious about it, either.

He paused. “Confront the man, of course.”

“Now? While he is drunk and probably empty of pocket?” I gestured toward the chair the Warden had just vacated, and he settled back into it. “Tomorrow, in the mayor’s home, he will be hung over and ill-inclined to argue. If he refuses to return the money, you need only raise your voice slightly. Jugun is terrified that his uncle will take notice of some misdeed and throw him out. You will likely find satisfaction then.”

The Warden drummed his fingers on the table. “You are telling me to choose a battlefield to my own advantage. Well, what do I owe you for this advice?”

Our new Warden had spent enough time in Ape Head Bay to know nothing from a Jallaran was free. “One thing, good sir. Do not tell Jugun we have had this chat.” I began fussing with my hair, a gesture a Paldan soldier would find alarmingly feminine. “For some reason, he has taken a distinct dislike to me.”

The Warden stood, his face blank and his lips tight. “You have my word,” he mumbled, and fled from the building.

Aneek rushed out of the kitchen. “What happened?”

The lead cook leaned against the bar. No more meals to cook tonight. “Would you turn out the front light, please?” I asked him. “We’re closing.” I turned toward Aneek. “He apologized, although he didn’t offer to cover tonight’s losses.

“My dear, the Sable Room is empty, I believe. Go up there and get me a pair of manacles. I’ll also need a sewing kit and two tweezers, please. Hurry, now. I’ll be downstairs.”

I took a pair of tongs from the stove. Fishing the keys from my belt, I unlocked the basement and padded down the steps. The staff believed I hid treasures down here: pearls, jewels and golden statues of my heathen Jallaran gods. The truth would have disappointed them. There was only a sewing bench, a wardrobe full of last year’s fashions, four oil lamps, and at the moment, a corpse. Maybe they would not have been disappointed after all.

With the tongs, I tossed the stitch bag onto the bench, then I kicked the bloody bed sheets into the corner. Jugun lay on his back as if sleeping. He seemed smaller, as though my puncture had released something, leaving only an empty bag. A shame I hadn’t known about the stitch magic before I killed him. He was only a pawn. If I could have relieved him of the bag, I could have preserved his life. And his continued patronage.

Money long spent, now. No use getting misty over it.

Aneek knocked and I let her in. Without a glance at the corpse, she closed the bottoms of the laundry chutes, then opened the wardrobe. Shoving the old clothes aside, she opened the panel in the back and removed eight cast iron levers.

“Slow down, my dear. I have barely begun.” I removed Jugun’s purse. It contained 18 gold apes and 21 copper monkeys. I found five more apes in his boots. They always hid some in their boots. There was nothing else but personal jewelry and a belt knife with silver inlay. Valuable, but too easily recognized.

“It’s time, then.” With the levers, Aneek and I lifted one of the floor stones, exposing a pit into the sewer below.

“Feh,” Aneek covered her nose. “I hate this part.”

“Let’s hope you shut the laundry chutes securely, or we will lose even more customers tonight.” I shoved the body into the pit, along with his jewelry, knife and silk clothes. In another tenday the Public Men would divert the river to sluice the sewers clean. By then, nothing would be left of the mayor’s nephew but a handful of trinkets and rat-gnawed bones. We laid the stone back over the pit and hid the levers in the wardrobe.

Aneek turned the oil lamps to their highest flame to burn out the stench. “Now I need a bath.”

“Not yet, my dear.” I took the manacles from her belt and chained her to the work bench. “We have a bit more to do.”

With the tongs, I turned the bag on its side. It was smaller than a folded handkerchief and consisted of two simple squares of cloth stitched together. I took out my sewing kit, located the knot binding the two halves and snipped it off. Using tweezers, I pulled the thread until the bag was open on one side.

It was full of green glass beads and boiled spices. I might have found it fragrant, if the room had not reeked like a sewer. I tweezed out several beads, then a tiny black pearl. I set it on the desk. Someone had spent a goodly amount of gold to hex me.

Using the tweezers to hold the needle, I restitched the bag and knotted it shut. It was a delicate business, closing the bag without letting it touch me, but my hands are steady and I like that sort of work. I turned to Aneek when I was done.

“Pick it up.”

She reached out with her free hand and lifted the bag. “Nothing,” she said. “The hex is gone.”

“Excellent!” I unlocked the manacles. “Take it into the bath with you, please. Wash out the smell but do not damage it. I have plans for it.”

Although I grew anxious with waiting, the Warden did not return until the next supper time. I’d already told Banu I’d send her back upriver with enough coin to care for her mother. Several of the staff offered her small gifts that afternoon; Aneek gave her a quilted Tilpic vest that would be the cutting edge of fashion in the provinces. Her barge sailed in the morning.

Once again, the main room was nearly empty all day. Without street theater, the Foreign Quarter was a dreary place. Without revenues from the performers, the Foreign Merchants Association would turn to street theivery for their money. My best customers were actually spending time with their wives and children.

When he finally arrived, the Warden was accompanied by Lodol and six Public Men. “We have some questions for you,” he said, in a tone that made my few customers toss coins on the tables and leave. All except the magistrate with the gaudy sash, bless him.

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