Chapter 27

“WHAT DO you mean, He escaped?!!!”

“As I said.” Nyuku’s voice was steady, but frustration echoed in its depths. “He was not in Tefilat. Not bound, not free, not even dead.”

Siderea wanted to break something. Or perhaps someone. For a moment she looked around her to see if there was something suitably fragile at hand other than Nyuku himself . . . and then she took a deep breath, trying to still the pounding of her heart so that she could think clearly again. The queen’s rage was a fire in her soul, hard to overcome. And she was not all that sure she wanted to overcome it.

He failed you! The ikati thought to her.

“Tell me,” she ordered Nyuku.

“Tefilat has been destroyed. The canyon was filled with rubble when I arrived, the dust still rising. I used the talisman you gave me to try to locate him. Nothing. You said that it would find him if he was alive or dead, so . . .” The words trailed off into eloquent silence.

“You searched carefully?”

Anger sparked in his eyes, but only for a moment. He dared not express any emotion that might displease her. She could see a muscle along the line of his jaw twitch as he fought for enough self-control to keep his voice steady, and not voice his own frustration at the current state of affairs. “I made several circuits, flying in as close as I could. The land itself was still unstable, so I couldn’t enter the canyon. But that shouldn’t have mattered to your talisman.”

“No,” she muttered. “It should not have.”

Colivar had escaped. By all the devils in all the hells! She had invested her greatest treasure in this enterprise, molding his hair into an anchor for her trap, and now that was gone. And the loss was Nyuku’s fault. He knew it and she knew it. If not for his request to deal with Colivar, she could have had the man killed in Tefilat and ended the whole affair then and there. One Magister down, a few dozen more to go. Clean, neat, and efficient.

But would she really have done it that way? she wondered. Or was Nyuku just a convenient excuse? Death was too merciful an ending for Colivar. She wanted him to suffer as she had suffered, dying by inches while others stood by and watched. Alone and abandoned, fearing death, betrayed by those he had once loved. The way she had been meant to die.

Why do you hate him more than the others? the queen asked. They’re all equally guilty.

But the other Magisters had merely been callous bastards. Colivar had actually pretended to care about Siderea, and that was far worse. Yes, she hated them all, and in time she would see that they all suffered for abandoning her, but Colivar’s offense exceeded theirs a hundredfold. And so would his punishment.

“What of Lazaroth?” she asked.

“He failed to meet me as arranged, and there was no message at the drop point. I remained in the area for a day, rather visibly, so that he would have a chance to contact me by other means if he was there. Nothing.” He paused. “If he was true to his word, and remained in Tefilat . . . no man could have survived what happened there, Lady Consort.”

“Well,” she murmured, “at least he died quickly. If he’d come to Jezalya as planned . . . .” She chuckled darkly. “It would not have been pleasant.”

Surprised, Nyuku said, “I thought he was your ally.”

Yes. Lazaroth thought that, too.

What a fool that Magister had been! She’d thought because she had been born a woman, there would be a natural confluence of interest between her and Siderea. After all, she’d argued, it was different with her than with the other Magisters. They had used Siderea like a cheap whore, then abandoned her when she needed them most. Lazaroth could understand why Siderea would hate them for that. It was the kind of indignation only a woman could understand.

But the other Magisters didn’t think there was a way to save me, Siderea mused. I hate them for not even trying—and for denying me comfort in my final days—but only for that. Whereas Lazaroth knew with utter certainty that I could become a Magister in my own right and knew how to make it happen. And instead she chose to let me die. I was not her lover, so I was not her concern.

I hope she died painfully.

“Lazaroth was useful,” she said shortly. “And I would have kept him around for as long as he remained useful.”

Nyuku’s mouth twitched in a smile. He had clearly perceived the Magister as a rival and was pleased to hear him so roundly rejected. “So what comes next, Madame Consort? What do you require of me?”

She did not miss the hidden message in his words. For a brief moment she considered sending him away, if not as punishment for his failure, then simply to make sure that he understood his place. Humiliation could be a powerful tool when ikati instincts were in play. But he, too, was useful. Perhaps more useful by her side, seething with anticipatory energy, than at a distance, nursing his wounded pride.

“You said that Colivar must come to me. That he cannot help but come to me. Is that still the case?”

“For as long as he lives,” Nyuku assured her.

She wanted to ask him why, but she knew he would not answer. Later. “We will wait for him here, then.”

He drew in a deep breath. “We, Lady Consort?”

A faint smile. “You will help me entrap him, won’t you, Nyuku? I do so value your assistance.”

There was no mistaking the mix of emotions that flashed across his face. Surprise. Relief. And of course, suspicion. He had failed to bring Colivar back to her. Why would she want him to remain by her side now?

Because that is the key to controlling you, she thought. And I must have control of you by the time my queen declares her flight, so that if and when you establish your sovereignty over the Souleaters, we both understand who is really in charge.

“Of course,” he said. Bowing his head stiffly in obeisance. “Whatever you require of me, you know you have but to ask.”

Except to share your secrets, eh, Nyuku? But that will come, in its proper time.

You will surrender it all to me, in time.