The Blood Mirror

  She said nothing for a few minutes, then kissed his cheek. “You’ll not find clarity tonight, I think. Come to bed or you’ll stay up so late that it costs you the clarity you’ll need tomorrow.”

  He followed her to the other side of the command tent. Their personal quarters consisted of a small area separated by a curtain, a chest to sit on, and a pile of blankets on the ground. There was barely room for the room slave Verity (a gift from Eirene that they had not been able to refuse) to stand with them, helping Tisis undress. “I’ll not be able to sleep,” Kip said.

  Truth was, he wouldn’t mind some distraction before he went back to the maps. They hadn’t made love all day.

  “You don’t need sleep tonight,” she said.

  Well, that was promising, especially as Verity peeled away her dress.

  But Tisis dismissed the slave and continued. “What you need is introspection and time. Come and rest on my breast.”

  “Rest… after?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Rest… first?” he asked.

  “Only. Rest only. You wouldn’t lose yourself to pleasure tonight, or if you did, you’d feel guilty about doing so while Conn Arthur is out having one of the worst nights of his life.”

  “Be nice to forget all that for a little while.”

  “Tonight you need to think about brothers, and family, and what they mean. And that means thinking about what you didn’t have and don’t have and what you were cheated of and what you’re thankful for. I don’t want to help you avoid that hurt, Kip. I want to help you heal it.”

  Kip lay his head in her lap as she stroked his hair, and then later upon her breast. He didn’t think. Though she’d expected him to think of family and of love, for the longest time, here in her softness and her strength, here with this family and this love, he didn’t think at all.

  Chapter 60

  Teia made her way back to her room, which she entered unseen in the chaos. She wasn’t sure how long she could afford to wait, but she was glad she had when someone banged on her door not ten minutes later.

  A captain of the Tafok Amagez was standing there.

  “What is it?” Teia asked. “I’ve heard shouting. My lady ordered me earlier to stay in my room tonight no matter what. Is she safe?”

  “Yes,” the man said. “Everyone’s fine. There’s been a death.”

  “A death? What happened?” Teia asked.

  “Please stay in your room for the rest of the night.”

  Teia gave him a suspicious look. “Well, now you’re making me nervous. My lady’s safety is my sole charge. Do I need to be alarmed? Should I—”

  “Absolutely not. General’s orders. Stay put. I’m putting men outside your rooms to guarantee your safety. We’ve already checked on your lady. She’s fine. The death was an accident. We’re just taking precautions given the fraught nature of relations with the Chromeria right now. Can’t have any well-meaning idiots jump to conclusions and maybe do something we all regret.”

  “If that was meant to soothe me, I’m afraid—” Teia started.

  “Satrapah Azmith died at dinner. Had all the signs of a heart attack, but a woman dies at dinner with you, you check the food for poison, right? You’re a Blackguard.”

  Teia feigned shock. “The satrapah? Now? I knew we should have left right away.” She mumbled a curse.

  “People are blaming your mistress—” the captain said.

  Oh hell no.

  “—for putting such strain on her with her message. Please stay inside for the night until tempers cool. You’ll have orders in the morning.”

  Orders? The Nuqaba wasn’t in authority over them. That her men casually assumed she was wasn’t a good sign.

  “Uh, thank you, then,” Teia said.

  He turned to go, but she stopped him.

  “Um, sir? Before the screaming just now, the party sounded, uh, pretty exuberant. Should I advise my lady not to bother the Nuqaba too early in the morning?”

  He looked at her as if deciding whether to take offense or not. Then he relented. “She usually switches from alcohol to other things before dinner for that reason. Morning she has her poppy tincture first thing. It levels her out. Early is probably best. Ten minutes before dawn rituals on the east lawn. Orholam go with you, and may there be only light between our lands.”

  “Thank you,” Teia said.

  “I’ll tell the watch captain to announce you.”

  “Thank you,” she said again.

  Maybe she’d put too much friendliness in her tone, because he looked at her again with something new in his eyes. He waved for his men to head out, but he didn’t follow them. “So,” he said. “Crazy times, huh?”

  “Huh?”

  “Crazy times we live in,” he said. “Really makes you think that you’ve gotta seize the opportunities for the good things that life sends your way.”

  “Um… right. Sure.” Oh no.

  “Where are you from? You look like you’ve got some Parian blood?”

  “I grew up in Odess, actually. But yes. Think my family emigrated, immigrated? I can never remember when you say which. Um, a couple generations back. Dad got into debt, so…” She fingered her notched ear.

  It probably wasn’t her smartest move to flag that she’d been a slave. Not usually a quick route to getting more respect.

  “Huh, right,” he said in a tone that made it clear he wasn’t listening to a word she said. “How old are you?”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, “but you’re making me uncomfortable.” And if I have to kill your ass, I am really in deep shit.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be… whatever. Just, you’re here tonight. War’s on the horizon everywhere. I think you’re beautiful, and you know, you don’t even have a book. What are you going to do all night? Pretty boring here, right? What better way to pass the time? Do you know you have the most beautiful lips?”

  He stepped forward and caressed her cheek. She had to control herself not to flinch away from his touch. He looked a bit tipsy, and Teia doubted it was from her beauty. Shit. She bit the inside of her cheek hard. “Oh, I wish I could,” she said. “But… uh, I’m sorry, it’s embarrassing…”

  “Are you on your moon? I don’t mind. You don’t have to be embarrassed about that, and there are certainly other—”

  “Oh no,” she said. “No, I love swiving during my moon blood. If my daddy won’t swive me then, I just find a boy who will. No, it’s, uh… my infection’s flared up.”

  “Infection?”

  “You know, the boy who gave it to me swore I wouldn’t get it if I just used my mouth, too. And I believed him. I guess that’s what you get when you start swiving in back alleys at ten to get money for sweets.” Teia grabbed her cheek and turned it out so he could see the lumpy, bloodied flesh she’d just bitten.

  The look on his face was one of pure horror.

  “And if you think that looks bad…” She glanced downward and scratched at her groin. “See? It’s terrible. You’re disgusted now, aren’t you?”

  “No, no,” he said, backing away.

  “I just didn’t want you to take it personally, you’re very handsome.”

  “No, no, I understand. It’s fine.”

  “It is kind of burning right now. Maybe I’ll just sleep tonight and let myself heal,” she said.

  “That… that sounds best,” he said. He left quickly.

  Benighted jackass. Dammit. As Teia closed the door, she rubbed her cheek. It hurt like hell, but she silently thanked her Archer sisters for the stratagem.

  That you can kill a man easily doesn’t mean he knows it; even if he knows it, it doesn’t mean he’ll act in a rational way with that knowledge. Their fault, but your problem.

  She grabbed her gear and went to her window. Her room had no balcony, but that was just as well. The window opened wide enough for her to wriggle through. She popped the first climbing crescent and affixed its sticky side to the wall and then poked her head out.
This side of the palace sat over a cliff, with retaining walls leaving barely enough room for a row of low flowering bushes before the palace itself sprang from the ground. Teia’s window was only about ten feet above those bushes, but if she fell and didn’t grab on to them, a fall of several hundred feet onto rocky beach awaited.

  Good thing I’m not afraid of heights.

  Much.

  There was no one else out here. No balconies hung out above the cliff face, though there were inset patios on the roof, Teia knew.

  She moved carefully and took her time. She didn’t have enough climbing crescents to make it all the way to the top, so she planned on getting into a window on the next floor. Quick and easy.

  The window was locked.

  Nothing is ever quick and easy.

  She made it to the next floor up before she ran out of climbing crescents. The window was cracked open, but there was a couple inside. They looked like they’d be busy for a while.

  Teia wasn’t exactly fond of clinging to a wall while the autumn-evening breeze kicked up, chilling her fingers, but she didn’t see that she had many good options, so she waited.

  She peeked again. The couple—younger staff, servants both—were still sitting on the woman’s bed, only kissing. The woman had her legs spread and was arching her chest toward the man, but he barely had his hand on her thigh. Awkward kisser, too.

  Teia waited. She couldn’t make her move now. The couple was seated facing the window she’d be trying to get through. Anywhere the cloak slipped, Teia would be visible, and it would be impossible to get in without making some sound.

  She would have to wait until they were too distracted. Then she could slip out of the room either when they fell asleep or when the young man slipped out.

  Teia peeked again. The young man barely had one hand on the woman’s rib cage. She finally took his hand and pulled it to her breast.

  He stopped and pulled his face away from her, though he left his hand where it was.

  “Tiwul, I don’t know if we should…” he said.

  Orholam have mercy, man! Get on the horse and ride, or get out of the corral!

  Teia looked around and considered her other options. They weren’t good.

  I don’t need to worry. I’ve got all night.

  All night to figure out how to kill the Nuqaba, without anyone suspecting it’s an assassination. No problem.

  So Teia alternately blew warm breath on one hand and then the other to keep her fingers from getting stiff while she clung to the wall at three points. Five minutes passed and Teia heard a little sound of protest.

  She peeked again. Oh no.

  This time the young woman had broken off the kissing. His burnous was off, and her dress was pushed down to her waist, and her skin was all gooseflesh.

  Oh no no no, Teia thought. The young woman walked toward the window, shimmying so her dress dropped past her hips and onto the floor. She was flushed with glee and desire.

  “It’s freezing in here!” she said. “Why don’t we—” and Teia lost the rest of the woman’s doubtless brilliant seduction with the creak of the window shutting.

  Damn. It.

  For one murderous moment, Teia thought of cracking the window just enough to draft through the empty space. At some opportune moment, she’d tweak a nerve in a leg or an arm and make the young man crush that stupid girl. Better yet—

  Actually, she’d never thought of it before, but could she make a man’s horn fall? Just by tweaking the right nerves? That opened up all sorts of possibilities for mischief.

  Could she make a man’s horn rise against his will with a similar manipulation?

  Now that—!

  Not the time, T.

  Nonetheless, the idea made her almost giggle. It was almost irresistible, but she knew if she started, she wouldn’t be able to stop. It was totally inappropriate, totally immature, but she was so scared, so nervous, so afraid of failing and of not failing, that she almost dissolved. She bit down on her macerated cheek.

  Too hard. She almost yelped aloud.

  But she felt more levelheaded when she was done cursing silently. Maybe that was the darkness working on her. Not a total darkness out here by any means, thank Orholam. She thought she’d go mad in ten minutes in total darkness. Here the lights of the city below and the stars above relieved the empty cold of blackness.

  Time for a new plan.

  Teia climbed back down to her own window, getting her feet onto the first crescents she’d placed. Each climbing crescent had a string dangling from it. Pull that string in a big circle around your crescent, and the string cut it off the wall. Each time you removed it, you lost adhesive luxin, but the crescents could be reused.

  Of course, it was one thing to place a crescent and then decide you needed that handhold to be farther to the right; it was quite another to do what Teia planned.

  Still clinging to the wall, she removed her boots and stockings one at a time and stowed them in her bag. Each string had a ring at the end of it. Dipping low, she grabbed one with her big toe, cut the climbing crescent off the wall with the string, and carefully stood. Then she lifted the crescent with her foot, holding on to the wall with a single hand and foot, and grabbed the crescent in her hand.

  Each crescent retrieval took time, and after a few, Teia’s toes were so cold and insensate that she had to watch carefully while grabbing at the rings, arching her head dangerously far from the wall. But in another ten minutes, she made it to the third floor.

  Locked. Curtains drawn. Who locks a third-floor window overlooking a cliff?

  She debated breaking the window, but she couldn’t be sure the room was empty. Nor could there be any doubts about the Nuqaba’s death. There were other windows on the same floor, but she had no guarantee that those would be open, either.

  Worse, the climbing crescents were starting to lose too much adhesive. She rubbed the wall with a sleeve each time she set a hold, to remove the dirt, but it wasn’t enough. Either the humidity or the dust or the simple fact that Teia was short and had to place the crescents closer than a taller assassin meant that there was no way Teia would be using the crescents to climb back down to her room.

  That was a problem for later.

  She decided to go for the rooftop gardens.

  It took her an hour, and more than once, she told herself she was a fool, but there was no way down now; she’d brought the crescents with her.

  When she finally threw herself over the edge of the roof, she simply lay beneath an immense rhododendron bush and quivered. Her hamstrings would never forgive her. Her knuckles were scraped bloody. Her sleeves were pilled from polishing the rock wall. Her toes were bruised and alight with pain where the feeling was leaching back into them. Her arms were jellyfish, stinging her shoulders with their death throes.

  When she felt she had the strength, she sat up and massaged her feet and then put her boots back on. Standing, she shook out the master cloak to get the dust off it—and a gust of wind and her own zealous whipping of it launched it from her cold-clumsy fingers.

  For a moment, it drifted over the void, flipping away from her—and then she snatched it, nearly lurching off the edge to reach it.

  She held herself very still, the thunderbolt of what might have been paralyzing her for a moment. She let it roll slowly past her as she merely breathed, breathed.

  An unforced blunder like that? What kind of nunk was she?

  She had almost just killed herself. Losing the master cloak? Dear Orholam, it was that easy to die. One slip. The Order had provided her with the Fox cloak for this mission, but it was so inferior to the master cloak she hadn’t even taken it out of her pack in her room.

  The garden was beautiful. The kind of place Teia would have liked to take her time to explore. But it was night, and the moon was rising, and it was cold, and the garden was empty, so she simply made her way invisibly to doors leading inside and whispered a quick prayer.

  It was open. Thank you, Orholam, f
or people who aren’t paranoid enough.

  The wide hallway was enclosed with a glass dome from the interior wall down one side and down to the ground on the garden side. Profusions of immaculately trimmed flowers yielded one to another in a pleasing sequence of colors and textures. In between large private rooms for the Nuqaba, there were little garrets for slaves everywhere. Private chapel, slaves’ closet, private library, slaves’ closet, drawing room, slaves’ closet, music and art parlor, more slaves, rock-and-water garden, still more.

  Most of the slaves’ rooms didn’t even have doors, merely a sharp bend upon entry so the slaves themselves wouldn’t be visible. Teia peeked in one. She couldn’t help herself. Four men slept on a single narrow bunk bed in a room not even as wide as Teia’s stretched arms. A small washbasin sat against the far wall, and they’d hung their clothes flat against the wall. A few personal effects were stuffed under the bunk, with room to spare. They didn’t even have shoes.

  One of the men had his legs uncovered with his bedmate taking their too-small blanket, and Teia saw whip scars down his very calves. She was glad she couldn’t see his back. Above their door was a small bell attached to a string, and a bundle of other strings passing through their wall to and from the rooms on either side. Teia moved in the direction their bell’s string came from.

  After passing a few more rooms—a swimming area and a hot room?—Teia found the chief eunuch’s room. It was the center where all the bell strings led. Doubtless on being summoned he would then summon the appropriate slaves—because it’s just too hard for a slave owner to figure out for herself which slaves she should call to address her doubtless urgent needs. Probably the bells were only for nighttime. The Nuqaba would be attended at all times when awake.

  The next room was the Nuqaba’s own, and Teia heard the woman’s voice before she got there.

  “Too hot, you idiot! Get out! No, stop, hold still.”

  The crack of a heavy slap connecting with bare skin, and then a slave girl not twelve years old burst through the door, bucket in hand, sobbing. She tried to sob quietly.