To Seduce An Assassin (The Omaja Series Book 2)(11)

Uman is all powerful. He’ll show these two bastards up for the usurpers they are.

“Who was Uman? Who did he work for?” Yavi demanded.

Terijin made no response, but Jiandra was reading his every thought with the stone.

He’s a free agent, a powerful force to be reckoned with on his own. He needs no master. Jiandra saw Uman’s face through Terijin’s eyes, a terrifying, cruel face lit by torches. White skin was stretched over his gaunt cheekbones and marred by angry red scars, his teeth were sharpened into points and stained black, and thin, greasy-looking gray hair was slicked back over his skull.

Terijin was at some kind of ceremony. Uman seemed to be standing over an altar in a stone fortress, surrounded by followers. Five men knelt before him, chanting an oath in Nandalan while Uman grinned wickedly.

Yavi glanced at Jiandra, who gave him a quick nod to continue.

“Where did the treasury money go? We know you stole two bags from us.”

For an answer, Terjin snarled, “Usurpers!”

Jiandra saw Terijin hiding a bag of money in his cart, the one he took to market once a month to buy supplies. At the market, he handed it over to a shifty-eyed fellow who stowed it under a blanket in the back of his own cart. She tried to see where the second cart was headed, but lost the picture as Terijin started imagining himself hanging from the gallows in the morning. Strangely, he seemed to be gloating over his own death, looking forward to it. Uman’s face appeared in the torchlights again, handing Terijin a vial of some dark, inky liquid. Terijin drank it down as Uman chanted over him and the others.

When Terijin looked up at Uman, Uman’s eyes had become solid black disks, soulless and frightening. Jiandra almost gasped aloud, but managed to keep quiet. She pressed her lips together and nodded at Yavi.

“How did you break into the palace vault? There is only one key.”

That’s what you think, you dolt, Terijin thought. Jiandra saw him hiding the key under a corner of the rug in his room.

“Where is the key now?” she asked aloud, still focusing Knowing.

Terijin tried to jerk around to look at her, startled to hear her voice behind him. Yajna twisted his arm a little higher, and he yelped in pain.

“She’s reading my mind with that blasted stone, isn’t she?” Terijin snarled.

“Where’s the key?” Jiandra demanded.

A picture flashed through his mind, of himself dropping the key into the planter just outside the back door leading out of his quarters before trying to make his escape.

“Got it,” she told the twins.

Terijin struggled to free himself from Yajna’s grasp, spitting obscenities in Nandalan.

“Let him go for now, brother,” Yavi said. “Come, Your Highness.” Yavi grasped her elbow to escort her out of the cell before Yajna released the cook. Yajna followed, and they slammed shut the door, locking the padlock to secure it before they left.

“Let’s head up to my study,” Yavi suggested as they headed back inside the palace.

Once there, Jiandra closed the door and told them what she’d seen. “Uman was some sort of wizard or magician. He had a group of followers who met with him inside an old stone fortress. Terijin seems to have sworn some kind of death-pact with Uman, because I saw him drink a potion while Uman prayed over him, and Terijin is looking forward to his own death. I think he thinks he’s immortal or something.”

“Fool.” Yavi shook his head. “And the stolen money?”

“He handed it over to a stranger in the market. I couldn’t get an identity on the man, nor see where his cart was headed. Perhaps he was connected to Uman’s little group as well. Oh, and Terijin’s extra vault key is in the planter outside the back door to the kitchen.”

“Good work, Jiandra,” Yajna said proudly, caressing her shoulder. “Brilliant as always.”

§

In his cell, Terijin chuckled to himself. It didn’t matter that the queen had read his thoughts. They could never defeat Uman anyhow. By executing Terijin, the usurpers would only be playing right into Uman’s capable hands. And they would be giving Terijin exactly what he wanted.

The transition to new life.





Three


The palace courier struggled to free himself from the bandit who had pinned his arms behind his back, while another bandit fished through his satchel and withdrew the message he was supposed to deliver to the queen’s sister in Villeleia.

“Blast! It’s written in Villeleian,” the thief complained.

“Let me see that,” an unnaturally gravelly voice interrupted. A tall, pale-faced creature stepped forward, and his henchman held up the letter for him to take.

The leader skimmed the parchment, then re-folded it and pressed the seal back together. He stuffed it into the courier’s satchel, his solid black eyes narrowing. “See that Miss Stovy receives this letter personally.”

The courier nodded, swallowing. “You—you’re letting me go?”

“Of course.” The leader smiled coldly, revealing sharpened teeth. “We’ve no interest in you, unless you try to go back to the palace to blab about this little encounter. If you do, I will personally hunt you down and devour you alive. Now, off you go. South, to Villeleia.” He shoved him back toward his nervous horse.

The courier scrambled onto the saddle, kicked the horse into a gallop, and rode south as fast as he could, not daring to look back to see if they were following him.