Spin the Dawn(25)

I bit back a retort. It was true, he had helped me. Remembering his rank, I bent my back into a stiff bow and said, as politely as I could muster, “Thank you, sir.”

“Bowing?” He eyed me. “Someone must have told you who I am. Pity. Now you’re as formal and boring as the rest, and calling me sir.”

“I do not know how else to address you.”

His mouth set into a wry smile. “My full name would be too complicated for you to pronounce. You may call me Edan.”

“Edan,” I repeated. The name sounded foreign on my tongue.

He made a slight bow. “I serve as His Imperial Majesty’s resident Lord Enchanter. To the West, I am known as His Most Illustrious; to the East, I am His Most Illuminating; and in every other corner of the world, I am His Most Formidable.”

I drew in a sharp breath. What had Sendo told me about sorcerers? All I could remember was that they served kings all over the world, and they drank the blood of young girls.

Finlei had always scoffed at such tales, but the thought made me shiver.

Have courage, Maia, I reminded myself. If Edan wanted a young girl, he’d have plenty to choose from in the palace.

Besides, the man I saw looked far too young to have traveled the world. I was sure his boasts were hot air and nothing else.

“I’ve never heard of you,” I muttered.

Edan laughed. “You’re skeptical. That’s wise. But odd coming from one so young.”

“My brother told me fairy tales of magic when he…” I couldn’t bring myself to say was alive. My tone darkened. “But that’s what they are…just fairy tales.”

“The A’landans are superstitious people. Constantly praying to their dead ancestors. If you believe in spirits and ghosts, I don’t see why you wouldn’t believe in magic.”

I did believe in magic. I just wouldn’t admit it to him, of all people. “What I believe in is hard work and providing for my family.”

“You’ll do well in that,” Edan said. “I’ve seen your work. Very impressive. I found the shawl especially…interesting.”

That sly look again, as if he knew my secret. My cheeks betrayed me by reddening. No, he couldn’t possibly know. I struggled to sound nonchalant. “What do you know of sewing?”

“What do I know, indeed?” Edan said mischievously. “I seem to bring out the worst in you. With everyone else, you appear to be quite—”

“The xitara?” I said flatly.

Edan laughed. “I was going to say agreeable.”

How I wished he would go away. “Looks are deceiving.”

“I couldn’t have put it better myself.” He grabbed my cane and rapped my leg—the one that was supposed to be irreparably broken—and I cried out.

“Hey!” I was so upset I forgot to keep my voice deep and manly. “Give that back!”

“Why? You don’t need it.”

Scowling, I made a show of limping, holding on to a hedge for support.

Edan tossed me back my cane. He was watching me intently. “You think I haven’t noticed that you favor your right foot half the time, and your left foot the other half? Only a fool would miss it, but to your good fortune, this palace is full of fools.”

My anger evaporated, replaced by fear. “Please don’t—”

“But that’s not the real secret, is it?”

The color drained from my face. I stopped staring down and looked directly into Edan’s eyes. They were amber now, thick and bright as the sap of a tree. They bored into me. “I don’t know what you mean, sir.”

“You’re not Keton Tamarin, and you’re certainly not old Kalsang Tamarin. His two oldest sons died in battle, but I heard he had a daughter who managed the shop quite well during the war….”

My stomach flipped.

Edan leaned closer, his eyes blue and cool yet piercing. I could have sworn they had been yellow only seconds ago. “Would I be correct in presuming you are Maia Tamarin?”

My lips parted, but Edan put a finger to them before I said a word.

“Think carefully before lying to an enchanter,” he warned me. “Sometimes it helps to look in a mirror.” He whisked one out and raised it to my face.

My hand jumped to my mouth. The reflection was me—but with my hair long again, and my brother, the real Keton, behind me.

“What magic is this?” I demanded.

“Simply a reflection of the truth,” he replied. “We enchanters see more than most. I knew you weren’t Keton Tamarin. You’re that girl you painted on your shawl.”

I pushed aside the mirror. “I was trying to paint Lady Sarnai.”

“Hmm,” he said, studying me. “The resemblance isn’t striking, but it’s there. Curious.”

“There is no resemblance,” I snapped. “I’m not a girl.”

“I’m not going to tell anyone.”

“You think I trust you?”

“You should.” Edan loosened his collar. It was high and looked uncomfortable, given the heat, but there was no perspiration on his forehead. I was wearing my lightest linen and already sweating. “Come, what keeps you from trusting me?”

I could think of a thousand reasons, so I had no idea what possessed me to blurt, “My…my brother said that sorcerers drink the blood of young girls.”