“I don’t know why you let her bond you in the first place,” Mat said. The street was nearly empty around them, though the tavern up ahead looked inviting, its yellow light spilling into the street.
“I didn’t have a say in the matter,” she said. “But I don’t regret it. Did you really sneak into the palace to meet with me?”
Mat shrugged. “I have some questions.”
“About what?”
He replaced that ridiculous scarf, which she noticed had a rip in the middle. “You know,” he said. “Things.”
Mat was one of the few who knew who she really was. He couldn’t mean…. “No,” she said, turning, “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Bloody ashes, Birgitte! I need your information. Come on, for an old friend.”
“We agreed to keep each other’s secrets.”
“And I’m not out blabbing yours,” Mat said quickly. “But, see, there’s this issue.”
“What issue?”
“The Tower of Ghenjei.”
“That’s not an issue,” she said. “You stay away from it.”
“I can’t.”
“Of course you can. It’s a flaming building, Mat. It can’t exactly chase you down.”
“Very amusing. Look, will you at least hear me out, over a mug? Of, er, milk. I’ll buy.”
She stopped for a moment. Then she sighed. “Bloody right, you’ll buy,” she muttered, waving him onward. They entered the inn, known as The Grand Hike, which was crowded beyond usual because of the rain. The innkeeper was a friend of Birgitte’s, however, and he had the bouncer toss out a drunkard sleeping in one of the booths to make room for her.
She tossed him a coin in thanks, and he nodded his ugly head to her—he was missing several teeth, one eye, and most of his hair. Best-looking man in the place. Birgitte held up two fingers to order drinks—he knew that she took milk these days—and she waved Mat to the booth.
“I don’t rightly think I’ve ever seen an uglier man than that innkeeper,” Mat said as they sat.
“You haven’t been alive long enough,” she said, leaning back against the wall and putting her booted feet up on the table. There was just room enough for her to do so, sitting on the bench of the booth lengthwise. “If Old Snert were a few years younger, and if someone thought to break his nose in a few places, I might consider him. He’s got a fine chest, nice and full of curly hair to get your fingers in.”
Mat grinned. “Have I ever mentioned how odd it is to go drinking with a woman who talks about men like that?”
She shrugged. “Ghenjei. Why in the name of Normad’s Ears are you wanting to go there?”
“Whose ears?” Mat asked.
“Answer me.”
Mat sighed, then absently accepted his mug as the serving girl delivered it. Uncharacteristically, he didn’t slap her backside, though he did give her a good leer as she walked away. “The bloody snakes and foxes have a friend of mine,” he said, lowering his scarf and taking a pull on his drink.
“Leave him. You can’t save him, Mat. If he was foolish enough to go into their realm, he deserves what he got.”
“It’s a woman,” Mat said.
Ah. Birgitte thought. Bloody fool. Heroic, but still a fool.
“I can’t leave her,” Mat continued. “I owe her. Besides, a good friend of mine is going in whether I want him to or not. I have to help.”
“Then they’ll have all three of you,” Birgitte said. “Look, if you go in through the portals, then you’re locked into the treaties. They protect you to an extent, but they also restrict you. You’ll never get anywhere useful after entering by one of the doorframes.”
“And if you go in the other way?” Mat asked. “You told Olver how to open the Tower.”
“Because I was telling him a bedtime story! Light, I never thought one of you sap-for-brains would actually try to get in!”
“But if we go in that way, can we find her?”
“Maybe,” Birgitte said, “but you won’t. The treaties won’t be in effect, so the Aelfinn and Eelfinn can draw blood. Normally, you only have to worry about tricks with pits or ropes, since they can’t….” She trailed off, glancing at him. “How did you get hanged, anyway?”
He flushed, looking down into his drink. “They should post a flaming explanation on those doorframes. ‘Step through here and they can bloody hang you. And they will. Idiot.’”
Birgitte snorted. They’d talked about the memories he had. She should have put it together. “If you go in the other way, they’ll probably try that as well. Shedding blood in their kingdom can have strange effects. They’ll try to break your bones with a fall or drug you to sleep. And they will win, Mat. It’s their world.”
“And if we cheat?” Mat asked. “Iron, music, fire.”
“That’s not cheating. That’s being smart. Everyone with half a wit who enters through the tower carries those things. But only one out of a thousand makes it back out, Mat.”
He hesitated, then fished a small handful of coins out of his pocket. “What do you think the odds are that if I toss these into the air, they will all come up heads? One in a thousand?”
“Mat…”
He tossed them above the table. They came down in a spray, hitting the tabletop. Not a single one of them bounced or rolled from the table onto the floor.
Mat didn’t look down at the coins. He met her eyes as they all rolled and vibrated to a stop. She glanced at them. Two dozen coins. Each had landed face up.
“One in a thousand is good odds,” he said. “For me.”
“Bloody ashes. You’re as bad as Elayne! Don’t you see? All it takes is one wrong throw. Even you miss once in a while.”
“I’ll take the chance. Burn me, Birgitte, I know it’s stupid, but I’m doing it. How do you know so much about the Tower anyway? You’ve been into it, haven’t you?”
“I have,” she admitted.
Mat looked smug. “Well you got back out! How’d you manage it?”
She hesitated, then finally took up her mug of milk. “That legend didn’t survive, I’m assuming?”
“I don’t
