The Ambassador's Mission

387 Pages·2016·1.66 MB·English

by  Canavan Trudi

B T C
Y RUDI ANAVAN
The Black Magician Trilogy
The Magicians’ Guild
The Novice
The High Lord
Age of the Five
Priestess of the White
Last of the Wilds
Voice of the Gods
The Magician’s Apprentice
The Traitor Spy Trilogy
The Ambassador’s Mission
Copyright © 2010 by Trudi Canavan All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act
of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any
means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Orbit
Hachette Book Group
237 Park Avenue, New York, NY 10017
www.HachetteBookGroup.com
(http://twitter.com/LittleBrown) First eBook Edition: April 2010
First US Edition: May 2010
Orbit is an imprint of Hachette Book Group. The Orbit name and logo are trademarks of Little, Brown
Book Group Limited.
The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is
coincidental and not intended by the author.
eISBN: 978-0-316-08925-8
Contents
By Trudi Canavan
Copyright Page
Part One
Chapter 1 The Old and the New
Chapter 2 Questionable Connections
Chapter 3 Safe Places, Dangerous Destinations
Chapter 4 New Commitments
Chapter 5 Preparations
Chapter 6 The Hearing
Chapter 7 A Journey Begins
Chapter 8 Signs
Chapter 9 Seeking Truths
Chapter 10 A New Challenge
Chapter 11 Tantalising Information
Chapter 12 Discoveries
Chapter 13 The Trap
Chapter 14 Unexpected Allies
Chapter 15 Late-Night Visitors
Part Two
Chapter 16 Hunter
Chapter 17 Hunted
Chapter 18 The Traitor
Chapter 19 In Hiding
Chapter 20 Allies and Enemies
Chapter 21 Welcome Assistance
Chapter 22 A Reunion
Chapter 23 New Helpers
Chapter 24 The Allies you Need
Chapter 25 The Messenger’s News
Chapter 26 A Long Night
Chapter 27 The Trap is Sprung
Chapter 28 Questions
Chapter 29 Answers, and More Questions
Epilogue
Glossary
Acknowledgements

PART ONE
CHAPTER 1
THE OLD AND THE NEW
he most successful and quoted piece by the poet Rewin, greatest of the rabble
T
to come out of the New City, was called Citysong. It captured what was heard
at night in Imardin, if you took the time to stop and listen: an unending
muffled and distant combination of sounds. Voices. Singing. A laugh. A groan.
A gasp. A scream.
In the darkness of Imardin’s new Quarter a man remembered the poem. He
stopped to listen, but instead of absorbing the city’s song he concentrated on one
discordant echo. A sound that didn’t belong. A sound that didn’t repeat. He
snorted quietly and continued on.
A few steps later a figure emerged from the shadows before him. The figure
was male and loomed over him menacingly. Light caught the edge of a blade.
“Yer money,” a rough voice said, hard with determination.
The man said nothing and remained still. He might have appeared frozen in
terror. He might have appeared deep in thought.
When he did move, it was with uncanny speed. A click, a snap of sleeve, and
the robber gasped and sank to his knees. A knife clattered on the ground. The
man patted him on the shoulder.
“Sorry. Wrong night, wrong target, and I don’t have time to explain why.”
As the robber fell, face-down, on the pavement, the man stepped over him and
walked on. Then he paused and looked over his shoulder, to the other side of the
street.
“Hai! Gol. You’re supposed to be my bodyguard.”
From the shadows another large figure emerged and hurried to the man’s side.
“Reckon you don’t have much need for one, Cery. I’m getting slow in my old
age. I should be payin’ you to protect me.”
Cery scowled. “Your eyes and ears are still sharp, aren’t they?”
Gol winced. “As sharp as yours,” he retorted sullenly.
“Too true.” Cery sighed. “I should retire. But Thieves don’t get to retire.”
“Except by not being Thieves any more.”
“Except by becoming corpses,” Cery corrected.
“But you’re no ordinary Thief. I reckon there’s different rules for you. You
didn’t start the usual way, so why would you finish the usual way?”
“Wish everyone else agreed with you.”
“So do I. City’d be a better place.”
“With everyone agreeing with you? Ha!”
“Better for me, anyway.”
Cery chuckled and resumed the journey. Gol followed a short distance behind.
He hides his fear well, Cery thought. Always has. But he must be thinking that
we both might not make it through this night. Too many of the others have died.
Over half the Thieves – the leaders of underworld criminal groups in Imardin –
had perished these last few years. Each in different ways and most from
unnatural causes. Stabbed, poisoned, pushed from a tall building, burned in a
fire, drowned or crushed in a collapsed tunnel. Some said a single person was
responsible, a vigilante they called the Thief Hunter. Others believed it was the
Thieves themselves, settling old disputes.
Gol said it wasn’t who would go next that punters were betting on, but how.
Of course, younger Thieves had taken the place of the old, sometimes
peacefully, sometimes after a quick, bloody struggle. That was to be expected.
But even these bold newcomers weren’t immune to murder. They were as likely
to become the next victim as an older Thief.
There were no obvious connections between the killings. While there were
plenty of grudges between Thieves, none provided a reason for so many
murders. And while attempts on Thieves’ lives weren’t that unusual, that they
were successful was. That, and the fact that the killer or killers had neither
bragged about it, nor been seen in the act.
In the past we would have held a meeting. Discussed strategies. Worked
together. But it’s been such a long time since the Thieves cooperated with each
other I don’t think we’d know how to, now.
He’d seen the change coming in the days after the Ichani invaders were
defeated, but hadn’t guessed how quickly it would happen. Once the Purge – the
yearly forced exodus of the homeless from the city into the slums – ended, the
slums were declared part of the city, rendering old boundaries obsolete.
Alliances between Thieves faltered and new rivalries began. Thieves who had