The men walked out with the spokesman strutting, much to Quint’s distaste.
“Racellians?” Marena asked.
“I don’t know willot well enough to know if they spoke with Racellian or Gussellian accents,” Quint said.
“They convinced me,” Marena said rubbing reddened wrists.
Quint looked at the front door. “How did they get in?”
Marena shrugged. “Any door lock can be picked,” she said. “I came home early since my clients suddenly were asked to dine out.”
“Maybe they wanted you here,” Quint said. “I didn’t dare use strings against them while they were standing next to you.”
She managed a smile. “That’s comforting to know,” she said sarcastically.
“If they ramped up their threats, I would have taken action,” Quint said.
“That’s a better answer.” She shook her head for some reason. “Are you going to retrieve your other copy?”
“What other copy?” Quint said. “What are you talking about?”
That got a nod from Marena. Someone was listening in.
“You said you had made two copies,” Marena said.
“No. There were two string books: the original I returned to Colleto and the one I hid in my office.” Quint frowned. “And now that is gone. I only remember a handful of strings.”
“That’s all I needed to have verified,” said Amaria Baltacco walking out of Marena’s bedroom. “My father will be happy to hear that.”
Amaria smirked. “Say bye-bye to your advantage over me,” she said as she left.
“And who is she?” Marena said, locking the door behind her as she returned to her living room.
“Amaria Baltacco,” Quint said, or as she would say ‘Senior Lieutenant Baltacco.”
Marena shook her head. “She isn’t exactly detached from it all, is she?”
“I think you got a strong enough taste of her.” Quint told Marena of Amaria’s reporting.
“General Baltacco, whoever he is, needs to put the woman across his knees and give her a good spanking with a studded belt,” Marena said.
“I’m sure she desires that the wizard corps will do something more drastic with me.”
“What will happen when they retrieve the string book?”
“Probably nothing,” Quint said as he tiptoed to the front door. “General Obellia knows I returned the original. No one asked me if I had made a copy. If Colonel Gerocie had asked, I would have been bound to give it to her.”
He heard a rustling on the other side of the door and caught the sound of footsteps in the hallway receding and going down the stairs. Quint drew away from the door.
Now everyone would know Quint had a copy, Colleto, Amaria’s father, and anyone else who wanted to know. However, whoever eavesdropped, probably Amaria, would leave thinking that she would have the only copy.
The joke would be on them. Quint had memorized all the spells and had practiced quite a few. From what Pozella told him, there weren’t many in Colleto’s collection that were unique to Pozella’s experience.
“We can talk,” Quint said. “Whoever was at the door has left.”
“The sneaky little witch,” Marena said.
Quint winced. It had been a long time since he had heard anyone call a female wizard a witch. It was the worst insult for a woman in the wizard corps.
“No talk about the numbers,” Quint said quietly, still afraid that someone would overhear their conversation.
“None at all,” Marena said.
Quint had never seen her so angry, but then he was used to Amaria’s tricks and had become immune to Amaria’s power to aggravate him.
He sat on the couch, recently occupied by Baltacco’s thugs. Quint didn’t know if they were wizards or not, but he assumed they would have been. Using strings against three wizards, four including Amaria, was something Quint wanted to avoid, and despite what he told Marena, he wasn’t sure he would have used his power.
“What do you know about Slinnon cooking? The Dankos took me to the Slinnon restaurant a block away from here.”
Marena laughed for too long and took a deep breath. “That was a refreshing question. It isn’t bad, but the food there hasn’t been authentic for years,” she said. “My husband used to know the Slinnon proprietors. There was a death in the family in North Fenola and they sold the restaurant and the recipes.”
“And the tastes began to drift from then on?”
Marena chuckled. “That’s a good way to think about it. I’ve eaten at the restaurant and enjoyed the meal, but it is now a Racellian version of Slinnon cuisine.”
“If Calee and Fedor offer to cook a Slinnon meal would you agree to come to dinner at their flat?”
“Of course I would. I’m sure the Narukunian version of Slinnon food will be closer,” Marena said. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to take a bath and go to bed.”
