Cursor's Fury (Codex Alera #3)(96)

The High Lady's mouth curled into another cool little smile. "You are very young." She shook her head. "It is almost as though we live in two different Realms."

"I appreciate your insight into Kalarus's character-or rather the lack thereof. But what advantage does it give us?"

"The lever Kalarus uses," Lady Aquitaine said, "will serve you just as ably."

Amara's stomach turned in disgust. "No," she said.

Lady Aquitaine turned more fully to Amara. "Countess. Your sensibilities are useless to the rule of a realm. If that woman does not speak to you, your lord will fail to muster the support he needs to defend his capital, and whether or not he lives, his rule will be over. Thousands will die in battle. Food shipments will be delayed, destroyed. Famine. Disease. Tens of thousands will fall to them without ever being touched by a weapon."

"I know that," Amara spat.

"Then if you truly would prevent it, would protect this Realm you claim to serve, then you must set your squeamishness aside and make the difficult choice." Her eyes almost glowed. "That is the price of power, Cursor."

Amara looked away from Lady Aquitaine and stared at the prisoner.

"I'll talk," she said finally, very quietly. "I'll cue you to show yourself to her."

Lady Aquitaine tilted her head to one side and nodded comprehension. "Very well."

Amara turned and went back over to the prisoner. "Rook," she said quietly. "Or should I call you Gaelle?"

"As you would. Both names are stolen."

"Rook will do, then," Amara said.

"Did you forget your knife?" the prisoner said. There was no life to the taunt.

"No knife," Amara said quietly. "Kalarus has abducted two women. You know who they are."

Rook said nothing, but something in the quality of her silence made Amara think that she did.

"I want to know where they have been taken," Amara said. "I want to know what security precautions are around them. I want to know how to free them and escape with them again."

A short breath, the bare specter of a laugh, escaped Rook's lips.

"Are you willing to tell me?" Amara asked.

Rook stared at her in silent scorn.

"I see," Amara said. She beckoned with one hand. "In that case, I'm going to leave."

Lady Aquitaine-and not Lady Aquitaine-stepped into the light of the circle of fire. Her form had changed, growing shorter, stockier, so that the dress she wore fit her badly. Her features had changed, skin and face and hair, to the perfect mirror of Rook's own face and body alike.

Rook's head snapped up. Her tortured face twisted into an expression of horror.

"I'll go for a walk outside," Amara continued in a quiet, remorseless voice. "Out in public. With her. Where everyone in the city might see. Where anyone Kalarus has watching will see us together."

Rook's face writhed between terror and agony, and she stared at Lady Aquitaine as if physically unable to remove her gaze. "No. Oh furies, no. Kill me. Just end it."

"Why?" Amara asked. "Why should I?"

"If I am dead, she will be nothing to him. He might only cast her out." Her voice dissolved into a ragged sob as she began to weep again. "She's only five. Please, she's only a little girl."

Amara took a deep breath. "What is her name, Rook?"

The woman suddenly sagged in the chains, wracked with broken, harsh sobs. "Masha," she grated. "Masha."