Torrent of Tears (Scourge Survivor Series Book 3)(13)

“Uh . . .” He shook his head, blinking shiny moss-green eyes. “Guarding your door?”

I heaved the poor guy to his feet and handed him his weapon. Not the six-foot staff I’d seen in the city, but more like a rune-covered nightstick. “I think I won round one.”

He looked like he was deciding whether to be pissed or amused. I was glad when he chose the latter. “Right you are, Princess.” He stretched his jaw and probed his swelling lip with long fingers. His eyes widened at my robe and took an immediate survey of the crystal and bronze light fixture on the ceiling. “Forgive me. I . . . uh, please don’t report me.”

“Report you? For what?” I shoved my girlie parts back into my robe and tightened the sash. “For scaring the crap outta me or copping a look at my rack?”

The moan that echoed in the corridor was almost as cute as the blotchy scarlet blush covering his cheeks and neck.

I laughed. “No harm done. Not much to look at anyway. What’s your name?”

“Chamber Guard 11.”

I snorted. “Catchy. I take it your mother had a long and painful delivery? Marked from the start, eh? Beaten as a child?”

He chuckled, still studiously surveying the lighting. “Well, no. My given name is Terran.”

“Cool. Well, Terran, since first blood has been drawn, I consider us friends. I need a favor.”

He looked at me, a determined smile forming. “What do you have need of, Princess?”

“Okay, two favors. One, call me Lexi. I’m sick of all this pompous Princess shit. Two, I need me some workout clothes.” Terran’s eyes widened. Maybe he was a bit slow or maybe I’d cracked his egg a little harder than I thought. “You know, yoga pants, spandex, something for morning workouts. I’d give my left nut for some Lulu Lemon.”

He choked, sputtering until he took a few deep inhales. When he had regained his composure, he gestured down the hall. “I’m sure we can find something in the training wing.”

Maneuvering the maze of corridors, we eventually made our way to the training wing. Terran led me to a stack of clothes that reminded me of martial arts gis. Pressed and arranged by size, I picked the smallest one I could find. The drawstring took care of the waist sizing and I cut a foot off the length of the pants and sleeves to complete the tailoring adjustments.

After sheathing my knife, I left Terran standing guard outside the men’s locker room and freshened up. My entire world had flipped on its ass in the past twenty-four hours. I didn’t think an early-morning moment with some hair gel and mouthwash was too much to ask.

Talon warriors trained to compartmentalize pain and confusion. With the warm water of my wipe down bringing me back to center, clarity returned and my determination to find answers focused.

It left me Jonesing for a little hand to hand.

“Why isn’t there a ladies change room?” I asked Terran as he led us out through the staff wing toward the side lawn. “Is that some kind of a male dominance, macho bullshit?”

He chuckled. “Are you always like this, Princess?”

“Like what?”

“Uh . . . head down and horns raised?”

I smiled, liking that analogy. “Call me Lexi . . . and yes.”

“Well.” He jogged ahead and opened the door for a couple women pushing a linen cart. They froze when they saw me and bowed their heads before shuffling off. “You’ll find women here—women of status, I mean—aren’t quite as . . . lively as you. They would never instigate sweating, let alone risk the possibility of bruising skin or mussing hair.”

“Oh, how feminine.” I stuck out my tongue.

He laughed and opened another door. This one led out the far end of the palace to the outside world. After checking if the way was clear the two of us darted for the bronze, metallic wall on the far side of an open-air patio. Terran nodded to the guard posted at the gate. We didn’t seem to garner much interest.

By my experience, guards were more attentive when people were breaking into a palace rather than out. When we made it to the shadows behind the wall Terran relaxed again. I glanced back the way we’d come. Because of the height of the wall, I couldn’t see anything beyond the upper spires and the points where it met the mountain behind.

While I played within my mind, lowering the volume of the ocean hitting the protective field, Terran led us down and around what felt like a labyrinth of utility paths and over the first of the three moats that Estes had told me emulated the city’s rings. The barrier wall edging the one nearest the palace was that same bronze metal I’d seen a dozen times already.

As we walked, I ran a hand over the smooth, sculpted designs etched into the wall, surprised to feel energy surge under my palm. “Cool. What is this made of?”

Terran cast a glance at me rubbing the wall and stopped. “That’s orichalcum. It’s our primary alloy. We use it for building, coins, lady’s trinkets—”

“Weapons?”

Terran shrugged. “Usually not, though I have heard one of the city smiths is forging it strong enough to make a blade. Usually though, it’s too pliable.”

“And why does it pulse like that when you touch it?”

“Beg your pardon?” He arched a sandy blond brow. “Pulse how?”

I dried my palm against my pants and placed it flat against the metal wall again. The same sensation of electrical current wriggled through my hand and up my arm. “I don’t know. It tingles. Like it’s got an active component somehow.”