“I don’t know how,” she said. She held up her and Kalun’s clasped hands. “I don’t think I’m what anchors him here. You are,” she told Zaredis. His eyes widened. “Siblings who share the wombat the same time forge connections beyond that of ones born months or years apart. You’re brothers but more than brothers. Two sides of one coin. Two bodies of a split soul. I’m merely the means by which you can see and speak with him. You’re the tether and the shield that protects him.”
Zaredis watched her without speaking before exchanging a glance with Kalun. “Why are you with the cat’s-paw?”
Her answers were numerous, convoluted, and scarcely sensible to herself, wrapped up in emotion instead of logic, fed by affection not only for a small child but also—unwillingly, unbelievably—for that child’s father. In the end, she chose the simplest explanation. “He saved me from a Nunari who chased me through the streets of Wellspring Holt intent on killing me.”
Zaredis wasn’t so easily satisfied. “Why would the infamous cat’s-paw rescue a prostitute?”
Simple answers, she reminded herself. Complicated ones became traps. “Maybe for the same reason I saved your brother.” She glanced at Gharek, who listened silently to their exchange. “I needed the help.”
“Hard to resist a beautiful woman.” The mockery in Gharek’s voice made her blush. There were things about him she admired, things she feared, and things she detested. His occasional biting sarcasm firmly occupied a space in the last, though somewhere in that serrated comment was a startling echo of sincerity.
Kalun’s accusatory tone distracted her from her embarrassment.You’re lying. You plead for his life for a daughter’s sake. This man is no stranger to you.
Thank the gods only she could hear him.I’m not lying. Your brother asked his questions. I answered truthfully.
And wove the truth to your benefit.
She jerked her hand out of his grip. He faded from view a second time. “Still here,” she assured Zaredis. “I need to warm my hand.” And she wasn’t interested in hearing disapproval from a ghost after the ridicule of an assassin and the abuse of a Kraelian general who’d threatened to slit her throat. She could lay the blame for the lack of kindness on their gender, except the Empire had once been ruled by Dalvila, and these men were merely playful puppies compared to the lethal malevolence of the Spider of Empire.
Despite Kalun’s accusation, and her selective truth, her actions must have earned a fragile trust with the general. He accepted her word about Kalun with a single nod and turned that steely gaze back to Gharek. “Strip him,” he ordered the men surrounding him.
Gharek’s curses fell on deaf ears, and his struggles were futile as half a dozen soldiers untied him and yanked his clothing off. They then kicked his legs out from under him. He fell with anoomphand was once more bound with his hands behind his back. Only now he was naked, except for a simple cord with a charm tied to it that he wore around his neck.
One soldier handed Zaredis his clothes. The general searched the garb, checking any pockets or hems for contents, even shaking them to see if anything fell out. He even shook out Gharek’s boots. When they were first captured, Captain Horta had made certain neither Gharek nor Siora kept anything sharp on them. He’d also relieved them of all money as well as weaponry. She doubted there was anything of value to be found in Gharek’s garb.
Zaredis tossed the clothing aside in disgust. “Nothing,” he told Rurian.
The sorcerer stepped closer to Gharek, pale eyes like ice chipsin his bloodless face. “Oh, I don’t know about that.” He lashed out with one hand. Just as fast, Gharek jerked back, but not fast enough. Rurian snagged the leather cord and yanked. The cord snapped and Gharek bellowed as Rurian held the humble charm aloft.
Gharek lunged toward the mage only to be shoved back. “Give it back, dog mage. That’s mine.”
“And obviously of great value to you.” Elegant fingers slid over the charm, nothing more than a small braid of hair decorated with a tiny bead and a dirty scrap of ribbon. A distressed squeak escaped Siora. She recognized the hair color as well as the bead. She’d woven a bracelet with such beads for Estred as a gift and tamed Estred’s wavy tresses into a neat plait with such ribbon. At some point either Gharek had made a charm of his daughter’s hair and a bead from the bracelet or Estred had done so and gifted it to him. Rurian was right. They might have discovered a king’s treasure house worth of gold sewn into his clothes, and none of it would have equaled the value of that charm. At least not for Gharek.
“Can you take anything from it?” Zaredis asked the mage.
Rurian continued stroking the charm, his eyes half closed as if he listened to some secret the trinket was imparting to him. “I need a map,” he finally replied.
In short order a map of the Empire was rolled out across a nearby table. Gharek fought his bonds and cursed their names until one soldier punched him sideways and he was gagged and tossed against the tent wall. It didn’t stop the hatred burning in his gaze or the venomous promise of revenge there. He’d worn that same look when Siora told Malachus she’d take him to where Gharek had hidden the old woman Asil.
Zaredis and Rurian bent over the map, speaking in low voicesas the sorcerer held the charm above it as if warming it over a fire. “Here,” he finally said, loud enough for her to hear, and pointed to an unseen coordinate on the map. “The cat’s-paw’s child is here.” His head tilted to one side as if he’d discovered something unusual. “A child without arms.”
Zaredis straightened, a cunning triumph in his expression that made Gharek’s face wash nearly as pale as Rurian’s. He motioned for Captain Horta to join him, pointed to the same spot Rurian had, and told him, “Find a small child with no arms. Ask around. Someone will spill any secret for the right price. When you find her, bring her here.”
Desperate sounds, nearly inhuman in their panic, escaped past Gharek’s gag. He writhed against his bonds, the muscles in his arms, shoulders, and chest flexed and bulged as he struggled to break free. Siora tried to reach Zaredis. A soldier’s hard grip kept her in her place. “Please,” she pleaded to the general. “I beg you. The cat’s-paw and I will do anything you wish if you will show mercy to his child and not hurt her.”
His eyes narrowed. “So not just a random prostitute in need of saving after all. I thought as much.” He signaled to Gharek’s guards again. “Get him dressed. Remove his gag but tie him again when you’re done.”
Siora flinched when they did as commanded, for they weren’t gentle in their enthusiasm to obey. Soon, however, Gharek stood next to her, garbed and bound but no longer gagged. Zaredis came to stand in front of them. Rurian joined him. The gloating smile he wore made Gharek growl. “So the notorious cat’s-paw has one notable weakness.”
Gharek’s growl rose in volume, and Zaredis’s smile widened.Next to Siora, Kalun voiced more of his disapproval, only this time it wasn’t for her.This is wrong and not like my brother.
The general swung the charm on his fingertip. Gharek’s eyes followed its motion. “Now we negotiate,” he said. “I’ve sent trackers throughout the Empire looking for you, Gharek of Domora. The gods have a sense of humor because after all this time and having no luck in finding you, I discover you’ve ridden into the middle of one of my battalions.” The gloating smile fell away and the murderous expression he wore mimicked Gharek’s. “You’re responsible for my brother’s death, and you’ll die for the crime, but not before you help me.”
Gharek’s derisive snort sounded loud in the quiet tent. “Why would I help you if you plan to kill me anyway?”
He knew why, Siora thought. He knew and still he goaded Zaredis, reckless in his fury over his predicament.
“I think we both know why.” The general raised the charm a little higher, swung it a little harder.