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be the profit in that? No, we have invited you here to make a deal.”
    “What kind of deal?” said Sankar. I saw his wariness. Likely he feared the consequences of failing his masters in the Teskilati, but if he was clever, there was a way to recover from this setback. 
    “I presume there are two sets of keys to the trapbox,” said Caina. “One held by your master the emir, and one held by you, his trusted servant. I propose you bring us the keys, and in exchange, we will give you a portion of the wealth contained within the box.” 
    Sankar said nothing. He knew that opening the box would lead to a catastrophic explosion. Above all he would want to get the trapbox back with its supply of Hellfire intact. 
    “You are wasting your time,” said Sankar. “The box contains nothing but the emir’s legal documents. Valuable to the magistrates, surely, but you will be unable to turn them into ready coin.”
    “Come now, Master Sankar,” said Caina. She lifted the coffee and took a sip, as calmly as if she sat alone in the common room. “I know how much that kind of Strigosti trapbox weighs, and it is considerably heavier than it should be. The emir has secured a supply of gold within the box, has he not? For I did not choose my target at random. I know Emir Turlagon offended the Grand Wazir, and I know he is fleeing the city to join the rebels in the south. A man fleeing the city will not waste time with legal documents. No, he will take as much money as he can carry.” 
    For a long moment Sankar said nothing.
    “Supposing all that you say is true,” said Sankar, “what do you propose?”
    “It’s time to leave Istarinmul,” said Caina. “The realm is about to rip itself apart in civil war. Maybe the emir Tanzir shall win, or maybe the Grand Wazir shall win. Either way a lot of people shall die, and I prefer to be gone by then, living off the gold from Turlagon’s trapbox.” She smiled. “Perhaps you shall enjoy your own share from the emir’s trapbox.”
    Sankar hesitated just long enough to make it believable. “How much of a share?”
    “Ten percent seems reasonable,” said Caina. 
    Sankar shook his head. “A third.”
    “A quarter, then,” said Caina.
    “Done,” said Sankar. He hesitated. “How do you suggest we proceed?”
    “Rationally, with precautions for both sides,” said Caina. “Bloodshed costs too much. I shall rent a room at the Inn of the Crescent Moon this evening. Arrive alone, with the keys, and we shall unlock the trapbox together. Are these terms acceptable?”
    “Entirely,” said Sankar. “You have a deal, Mistress Atagaria. I’ve had enough of Emir Turlagon’s arrogance, and I intend to get out of Istarinmul before the Grand Wazir hangs the emir and all of his men. I shall meet you at the Inn of the Crescent Moon at sundown.” 
    “A pleasure,” said Caina, sipping some more coffee. 
    Sankar nodded and strode out of the room. 
    For a moment I stood in silence, watching Caina, who kept sipping the coffee.
    “Do you think it worked?” I said.
    “Probably,” said Caina.
    “Oh, it worked, mistress Damla,” said Malcolm. He started to spit, caught my glare, and thought better of it. “He was just like the Lord Lieutenant’s underlings when they made a mistake at the Inferno. The bastard knows it’s his head if he doesn’t pull this off, and he sees a chance to save himself.” 
    Azaces nodded as he crossed to the window and peered outside. 
    “He’s going to go round up a squad of soldiers,” said Caina. “Maybe even Immortals, if he has the authority. Then he’ll set up a trap for us at the Inn of the Crescent Moon. He gets the trapbox back intact, and if he captures us alive, he has a few prisoners to sell as slaves.” She finished her coffee and set down the cup. “But first, he’s going to visit the nearest Teskilati safe house…and I think we’re about to find out where it is.”
    I heard light footsteps in the hallway, and the door