AFTER Oktehm’s sullen departure, Zara went to the temple in search of Tarsius. She wanted to share with him what she had learned. She frowned and searched every corner of the room. No sign. A chill ran through her.
Stay calm. Someone knows his whereabouts.
She headed to the foyer. No one around. Just as she was about to surrender to panic, an acolyte wandered down one of the halls.
“Have you seen Tarsius?” She barely kept her voice calm.
“Yes, my lady.” The man frowned in sudden concern. “He said he intended to see Lieutenant Ray.”
Without a word, Zara ran out the front door with Jerrod glued to her heels. She found Ray on the practice field sparring with two other men. She scanned the sea of faces, each standing out against the backdrop of snow. Dread gripped her. Tarsius wasn’t among them.
The lieutenant ceased sparring, waved the men back, and frowned when she ran to him. He sheathed his sword and gave her his undivided attention.
“Where’s Tarsius?”
“I haven’t seen him. I thought he was with you.” A tight frown marred his features. A hand on her shoulder, he held her in place when she would’ve bolted in another direction. “I thought he was with you,” he repeated.
“No. He was, but—” She shook her head in disgust. “He said he was going to the temple, but an acolyte said he was coming to see you.”
“He can’t have gone far.” Ray waved to the nearest men and ordered them to search the grounds. “He’s here somewhere. Probably got distracted by someone on his way to see me.”
News traveled quickly through the ranks. Knights and soldiers scattered in every direction.
“Zara, listen to me.” His gaze calm, the soldier squeezed her shoulder. “Return to the temple. See if he returned. Once a search has been conducted, I’ll report to you there. Wait for me.”
Zara looked at him, uncomprehending at first, then gave a short nod. He gently shoved her in that direction. She stumbled but caught herself and walked back the way she had come.
Once in the temple, Zara dropped onto an empty pew to wait as Ray had asked. She rocked jerkily. Where could Tarsius be? Why hadn’t he gone straight to the temple?
Where are you?
A shuffle of feet on stone drew her gaze to the doorway. An acolyte entered, his steps hurried.
“My lady? A messenger just left this for you.” He handed her a scroll, bowed, and left as quickly as he’d appeared.
Another one? It bore a seal. A dagger with an eerie glow was etched into blue-gray candle wax. Tension tightened her shoulders. Zara broke the seal and opened the envelope, retrieving the parchment from inside.
My dearest Zara,
Worry not. Your young knight is visiting me. He is safe and under my protection, for the moment.
I would like to meet with you. If you would, please meet me at high moons tonight to discuss my full proposal. All you must do is leave the compound. I will find you at the right time. It is my sincerest hope you will join me.
Do not concern yourself with the knight’s safety. He will remain alive until after we meet. Then we can decide together how best to deal with him.
With love & esteem,
Your loyal admirer
“Dagger”
The signature and the color of the seal wax confirmed her fear. The assassin she’d met upon her arrival had Tarsius, and he wanted her. He’d killed Kat. Would he kill Tarsius? Of course, he would. That was his profession, his purpose in life. To kill. He would do so without remorse.
Zara’s gaze settled on the symbol on the wall over the altar. She rose to her feet, let the scroll drop to the floor, and approached the altar. Surely Sear’dan wanted Tarsius saved. Hopefully. She dropped to her knees and rested her forehead against the cool stone of the altar.
“Please help me.” She balled her hands into fists, her knuckles turning white. “Please, let him be safe. Please.” Her fingernails drew blood from both palms. Tears welled in her eyes. “Don’t let Ray’din win.”
Pain struck dead center in her chest and took her breath away. She doubled over, her palms slamming on the floor. Somehow, she found the strength to stay conscious despite a desperate desire to do otherwise. One hand pressed flat against the debilitating pain, she braced the other against the altar.
“Zara?” Ray knelt at her side, the discarded parchment clutched in one hand.
Agony clawed at her, preventing speech. Her heart faltered as though afraid to continue beating. She willed it to continue.
“Zara, what is it?”
She shook her head, unable to do anything more.
“Because you asked.” Father Solnar’s aged voice swept through her.
A crystal clear image flashed through her mind of Tarsius, unconscious, wounded, shackled in a heavy chair. A deep, bleeding wound tore open his chest. A bruise bled at his forehead. Cygnet lay unconscious at his side, muzzled and chained in place.
A room came into focus. With a slight turn of her head, Zara could just make out the lushness of the room. Tapestries, fine art, sculptures, a large wooden desk, velvet-upholstered furnishings. A band of windows looked down over the front gate where guards amassed. The enemy sat at the desk, his feet propped up, a satisfied smirk and almost giddy excitement on his face.
As suddenly as they’d appeared, the image and pain vanished. Her breathing returned to normal, and she used the hand on the altar to pull herself to her feet then leaned on it, processing everything she’d seen.
Jerrod whimpered softly.
She laid a hand on him without thought, ignoring the blood she left behind. Wounds would heal.
“Zara?”
“He has Tarsius,” she whispered once she could find words and the power to speak. “The room was expensive, elegant.”
“An estate.” Ray’s eyes narrowed. “Did you see his face?”
She nodded and focused on the illusory energies around her, tugging gently at white and yellow strands of light. Picturing the face in her mind, she directed the image outward, creating the weave that would give it life. The image manifested.
Ray studied it carefully. “Marcon Keeling.” He held up the paper in his hand. “Zara, is that who wrote this? Is he Dagger?”
Zara nodded weakly and carefully released the energy she had tapped into. “I have to confront him. Save Tarsius.”
“We can take you there.”
She frowned.
He returned her gaze with a steady, businesslike air. “It sounds like they’re at his estate. His personal guard will need to be dealt with. I can’t do that alone.”
“We’ll need Trace Tyler.” Marcon favored magic. Oktehm had said he was fond of setting magical traps for the unwary and when training subordinates. Trace could help with that.
“I’ll send word for him to meet us at the gates as soon as possible.” With that, Ray was gone, the model of efficiency and speed. It never seemed to occur to him to question her insights or information.
Zara sat on a pew to wait.
Ray returned in minutes. “We’re ready,” he informed her, his tone clipped and official as though deferring to a superior officer.
She frowned but followed him out.
* * *
“How do you recommend we proceed?” Ray asked as they waited at the city gate for Trace and his escort. Several other soldiers sat patiently on horses close by. More had orders to follow shortly.
Zara frowned. Why ask her? What did she know about such things? And what was with that assessing look? Was his question some kind of test? She sighed. What would U’uskoh do? “We must get in without the guards seeing us.” How did a person sneak in a soldier and a sorcerer without being detected? She could get in, but them... well, that was another matter entirely.
“Perhaps your sorcerer friend can help.”
“Maybe.” She sighed. Where was Trace anyway? Her mount danced nervously. She ignored it.
A group suddenly appeared around the corner of the guard tower.
“Sorry it took so long.” Trace halted his mount beside hers and gave his escorts a disgusted look. “They refused to tell me who needed me or why.”
One of the soldiers who’d come with him snorted and rolled his eyes.
Zara cast a questioning glance at Ray.
“I hardly think it would do for someone to overhear and warn Marcon.” His explanation, aimed at Trace, was given in a patronizing tone. He clearly felt the other man should have thought of that.
Made sense. She nodded and dismissed the subject.
The troop left the city.
Zara briefly explained her concern about getting into the estate unnoticed.
Trace nodded thoughtfully. He shifted uncomfortably in the saddle several times, making it clear he was not at ease on a horse. No one commented but a few men snickered or turned away grins. He shifted in his seat again. “I have an idea.”
The horse tossed its head and glanced back at him.
He frowned. “Don’t look at me like that.”
The gelding snorted.
“Well, what is it?” Ray prodded, sounding less than enthusiastic.
Zara gave him an odd look. She hadn’t heard him use that tone before.
If Trace noticed, he chose not to comment or react. “I have an incantation that would render us invisible.”
“Perfect.”
“Not perfect.” He gave the soldier a mild look of disgust. “Zara would have to move in front of me to prevent us from walking into physical traps. I wouldn’t be able to detect harmful magic with her in front of me.”
“You would detect me.” She nodded. Another problem to overcome. Easy enough. “Don’t use it on me.”
“That would leave you unprotected.”
“No.” She smiled but offered no explanation.
“This could work.” Trace looked at the soldier riding opposite him, a disdainful gleam in his eyes.
Zara frowned. This could be bad.
“Keep in mind, you must avoid contact with anyone if this is to work.”
“Of course.” Ray’s tone sharpened. “It rather defeats the purpose of being invisible if you reveal yourself by taking off someone’s head.” His tone threatening on the last few words, his gaze settled steadily on Trace.
Zara spurred her horse forward, blocking visual contact between the two men. She rode on as though nothing had happened, but worried all the same. Would an alliance work? Trace and Ray obviously had issues with each other. She had no idea why, and, at the moment, she didn’t care. She just wanted Tarsius safely out of Marcon’s grasp.
Being a leader wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. How did U’uskoh do it? She’d caused him some problems, not getting along with others they’d traveled with at times. She should’ve made things easier for him. Remorse wound through her.
The conspirators split off from the rest of the group under the cover of trees about a mile from the estate. The others were ordered to wait a couple of hours before moving on. Horses concealed in the trees, they covered the remaining distance on foot.
I hate nature! Zara had to watch her step or get tangled in vines and brambles, reassured marginally by the fact Trace and Ray had similar difficulties. Jerrod was the only one unimpeded by the undergrowth. He seemed to plow through it without a problem.
She raised a hand to halt them when they reached the fence surrounding the innermost part of the estate. Snow-dusted shrubs ran the length of rock wall that served as a fence. Wide expanses of open ground lay between the fence and the house. The morning sun had melted some of the previous night’s snow, except in those areas protected from the sun, but the cold afternoon had created a sheet of ice on top of the snow.
She studied the grounds, looking for weakness in the estate’s defenses. Marcon had certainly planned the layout well. The thief in her thrilled at the challenge. She’d gotten into places thought impenetrable before. She could do it again.
“Wait here.” Zara followed the fence. There was a way in. She just had to find it.