“LADY Zara?”
Zara lifted her head from the table and wiped her eyes. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but she’d lost a great deal of sleep the last few days seeking answers. Still no closer to uncovering a possible threat against Tarsius either, which was even more annoying.
She closed the book she’d been attempting to read, dismissed illusion for later, and glanced around. What had awakened her?
Tarsius was stretched out on the bed, sound asleep. Cygnet and Jerrod were curled up side-by-side on the rug beside the bed.
“Lady Zara?” came a soft plea.
She turned in the chair.
An acolyte stood in the doorway, a worried frown wreathing his face. “I apologize for waking you, but a gentleman is here to see you.” He stepped back and waved someone forward.
Who would come to see her? She stood and put herself between the door and Tarsius’ sleeping form. A familiar, smiling face sent relief through her.
“Some change.” Trace whistled softly, his eyes bright with admiration as they scanned her new clothes. His gaze lingered on her hair. “You’ve missed school. I wanted to be sure you hadn’t taken ill.”
Zara sighed and relaxed, dropping back into the chair. “I’m not going back.”
He eased his tall frame into another chair with a mindful glance at Tarsius and nodded. “I suspected as much.” Sadness fell over his expression. “Kat would be overjoyed.”
She grimaced but said nothing. They both knew how she felt about the young woman.
Trace hesitated before continuing. “Kat’s dead, Zara.”
She flinched. “What happened?”
“Assassin.”
A shiver ran up her spine.
“Miss Pitlo will not bother you again,” the note had said.
She said nothing. She didn’t know anything that might help find Kat’s killer. Not that she cared the hateful woman was dead. She’d probably ticked off the wrong person, and no one had intervened to save her worthless life. The identity of the one who’d written those letters was unknown, and there was no proof that her mysterious admirer and Kat’s killer were one and the same.
* * *
“Poisoned after she was beaten.” Trace omitted the fact Kat had also been brutally raped. No good could be served in disclosing the sadistic nature of Kat’s torture and eventual death. “She was missing for three days before the guards found her body displayed in an alley. Whoever killed her wished to make a statement, I guess.”
Zara avoided eye contact.
She knew something. Trace was sure of it, but he had no way to confirm that suspicion. She appeared uncomfortable with the subject, and experience warned that she wouldn’t say anything, even if prodded, until ready to do so. He turned his attention to the closed book laying on the table, easily reading the title. “Good book.”
“You know illusion?” She cocked her head, the previous subject dismissed.
He nodded. “I… dabble, I suppose you could say. I knew you were special when we first met.”
“I have trouble with it.” An annoyed frown lowered her brows, and she glared at the book as though it was to blame for the difficulty. “It’s different here.”
Odd remark. It made sense to her, no doubt. Trace made no comment. Despite his mental abilities, Zara remained a mystery. For some reason, he had difficulty accessing even her most surface thoughts. In fact, if she wasn’t sitting before him, he’d say she was nothing but an illusion. She wasn’t a telepath, which made it all the more intriguing. Like her mind wasn’t built like everyone else’s. Impossible, of course. All people had the same general construction, yet her mind and thoughts remained unreachable, undetectable even.
Zara silently traced the letters on the book’s smooth surface with a finger, exhaustion written in the lines of her face. Her worried gaze returned often to the sleeping form.
Trace frowned then sighed. There was something more she needed to know. He lowered his voice to ensure no one overheard, including Tarsius should he awaken. “Word on the street is that Tarsius is in danger.”
Her startled gaze flew to his. What surprised her? The fact he knew of a plot against Tarsius, or that he was attuned to the scuttle on the streets?
“I know.” She nodded. “I should know who he is by now.”
“Have you asked Oktehm?”
Her gaze turned speculative.
“Yes, I know about him. I don’t share all I know with others,” he bragged, laughing.
She rewarded him with a smile and then stared at the tabletop, her hand caressing the book’s cover. “I asked. He insists he knows nothing.”
“Do you believe him?”
She shrugged.
Curious, that she would give up so easily. “Oktehm may hold the key to capturing an assassin hired to kill Tarsius. He’ll give you no information. And you backed off and left him alone?”
That shrug again.
He chuckled without mirth. “I don’t understand such tactics.”
“He’s afraid.” Worry shadowed her gaze.
“Perhaps Oktehm needs to re-evaluate his priorities. Family loyalty is more important than any bond to a criminal.” Silence filled the room. A silence so deep they heard Tarsius’ rhythmic breathing. “May I help in some way?”
Zara cocked her head to consider him with a questioning look.
“I could speak to Oktehm.” He quirked a brow. “I may glean something from him.”
After a confused glance, she shook her head. “No. He needs to do this his way.”
“I’d know if he lies.”
Tarsius stirred and sat up.
Trace took consolation in the fact Zara jumped nearly as high as he did at the knight’s sudden movements. She’d apparently forgotten his presence.
The knight dropped his feet to the floor and raised his hands above his head to stretch. He rotated his neck then slid off the bed and moved toward the table. “You must be Trace. I’ve heard a great deal about you.”
Trace shot a surprised glance at Zara, pleased by that disclosure. Probably more than he should be.
Her gaze fell away. Uncertainty flashed.
“And I you.” Trace returned a neutral nod and studied Tarsius.
Tarsius turned his attention to Zara, an amused smile curving his mouth. “Is it acceptable for me to visit the temple without an escort?”
Zara laughed softly and rolled her eyes. “I suppose.” She drew the word out playfully, her eyes lit with laughter.
“Thank you, my lady, for your understanding.” He offered an exaggerated bow. “I will return to your service shortly.”
Trace watched the knight leave then turned back to Zara. “He loves you.” The possessive glow in the man’s eyes when he’d glanced at Zara indicated more than words could say.
“No.” A troubled frown erased the humor of the past couple of minutes.
“Yes.”
Zara didn’t respond.
“As much as I hate to leave, I must return to school.” He got to his feet.
The disappointment that crossed her face lifted his spirits.
“Instructor Randyl released me to see you. He’s as concerned for you as I am. I think he misses you.” He chuckled warmly at her dubious look.
Zara followed him to the door.
“Listen.” He turned at the last minute. “If you need help, in any way, send word to me. I’ll be here at your first request.”
She smiled and nodded.
Feeling bold, Trace dropped a quick kiss on top of her head and left.
* * *
Zara turned back to the table. Why was everyone acting so strange? She’d almost gotten used to Tarsius and the other Sear’danians, but Trace?
The hair on the back of her neck prickled. She glanced over her shoulder at the doorway.
Oktehm stood there, hesitant, uncertain, his weight shifting from foot to foot as though he might bolt.
She waited in silence.
Finally, he straightened his shoulders, lifted his chin, and stepped into the room.
She resumed her seat when he dropped into a chair.
“Why haven’t you tried to force information out of me?” Gold-flecked brown eyes were suspicious and perplexed.
“If you care more for your master than your brother, you’d only lie.”
He seemed to consider her words, his bright gaze never leaving her face. “I hate him.” The hostility behind the whisper was palpable.
Zara didn’t question who he meant. She knew.
“He’ll kill me if I say anything.” His voice never raised in volume, as though he feared the man would hear.
“He may kill Tarsius if you don’t.”
“I know next to nothing about him, anyway. I doubt I can help.” He said nothing more, looking away.
Frustrated, Zara pushed out of her chair and started to walk out. She could find other sources. Hopefully before it was too late.
“Wait!”
She halted and pivoted to face him with an impatient sigh.
He waved his hands uselessly over his lap and fidgeted. “I’ll tell you what I know. I can’t let him kill my brother.” He shot her a disgusted look then slouched in his seat. “What do you want to know?”
She resumed her seat and softly questioned him. True identity, unknown. Hiding places, unknown. Residence, unknown. Habits, unknown. Frustration built. Oktehm had been honest. He didn’t know much.
Temperament, at times unstable but generally very controlled, at least on the surface. Deadly as a viper when crossed or threatened, and even faster.
Sorcerer as well as assassin. The former could be a problem. Elemental magic was not Zara’s forte.
Oktehm grew increasingly nervous as time passed. No doubt worried that he was getting deeper entrenched in a plot to bring down his employer.
“I will stop him.”
“What makes you so sure you can?” he challenged with a defiant glare.
“Because Ray’din thinks I can.” She held his gaze, steady and unflinching. For Ray’din to try to bribe and then to threaten her, he had to believe she could thwart his plans. She clung to that. Whatever it took to stop Ray’din, she’d do.
“How did you figure out I work for Dagger, anyway?”
“I’ve met him. He’s an assassin and territorial. He wouldn’t allow anyone, assassin or thief, to work in his territory without having some control over them. Men like him are predictable in that way.”
“Oh.”