The Traitor Queen (The Traitor Spy Trilogy #3)(122)

As he gestured to Anyi, the knife at the girl’s throat turned in Lorandra’s hand, reflecting a flash of sunlight into Lilia’s eyes.

Lilia ignored it. “Let her go now.”

Skellin shook his head and laughed.

“How do I know you won’t kill her,” Lilia continued, “once I’ve given you what you want?”

“How do I know you won’t kill me, once I let her go? You are the black magician, after all.”

“And you are the murdering rogue magician and Thief.”

His eyebrows rose. “Now, now. When have you ever seen me kill someone?”

She opened her mouth to reply, then closed it again. She hadn’t. Not even Cery had. Anyi’s father had died when his heart failed, though that was likely caused by the strain of being hunted by Skellin. Lorandra was the Thief Hunter. But that was the way of Thieves, wasn’t it? They didn’t get blood on their hands. They got someone to do it for them.

She crossed her arms. “Let’s get this over with.”

He grinned. “My, aren’t we impatient?” He took a few steps towards her, then stopped. “But first you need to take off your clothes.”

She stared at him. “What?” The word burst out of her.

His smile vanished. “I’ve done my research, Lady Lilia,” he said in a low voice. “I know black magic requires the skin to be cut. I require assurance that you aren’t carrying any sharp objects. You can be sure I am not, since I would rather not risk you’d turn them against me. I could get one of the crew to check you over, but you might kill him, and would probably rather not be man-handled. I only need you to undress to the point where it is clear you are weaponless.”

Swallowing hard, she pulled off the worn old tunic and trousers. Then she glared at Skellin, daring him to insist she remove the simple undergarments that Guild women wore beneath their robes. From the crew of the ships came low whistles, but they fell silent as Skellin glanced around, his expression stern.

“Kick the clothes away and turn around,” he ordered. Sighing, she obeyed. “Now, to begin you will teach me how to read minds.”

Lilia froze, then cursed silently. If she protested that the deal was only to teach him black magic, he’d laugh. She was in no position to argue.

“You need someone to practise on,” she told him.

“You’ll do,” came the reply she expected.

She felt an unexpected admiration. Oh, he’s not stupid. He’s thought this through. Far better than I have. It never occurred to me he’d demand this. If I do it, he’ll see everything. My plan will never work.

“I haven’t tried to teach it that way before.” It was not hard to sound uncertain and honest. She hadn’t taught mind-reading before. To anyone.

“Then you don’t know it won’t work.” He took a step toward her, then another. It’s time to decide. Give him everything he wants, try to kill him with Healing, or try my plan. She flinched as he reached out, but made herself stand still. Looking over his shoulder, she met Anyi’s frightened, angry gaze and hoped she did not look as uncertain as she felt.

This had better work …





CHAPTER 27


OLD BATTLES, NEW WEAPONS


Being dressed all in black had been an advantage when Sonea had slipped out of the mansion in the early hours of the morning, but now that the sun was up she was all too visible against the pale walls of the Sachakan capital.

At least I’m closer to the centre of the city.

As dawn had arrived, she’d chosen another mansion with a tower to hide in. The side door she’d slipped through hadn’t been locked, but she’d discovered the building wasn’t completely empty when she’d heard voices from somewhere inside. When she’d tried to leave, a quick check of the outside revealed a group of men hurrying along the street, so she’d crept back through the house as silently as she could. She’d found the stairs and ascended to the tower, telling herself that if she heard anyone coming up she would climb out of one of the tower windows and escape across the rooftop outside.

Hours had passed and the only sound she’d heard below had been distant and muffled. The tower windows were open, perhaps to let in the cool morning breeze. From the street below she’d heard footsteps and more voices, but the city was mostly quiet.

The windows looked onto the furthest side of the street below and a sea of rooftops. It’s tempting to slip out and find a better vantage point. But the risk of being seen isn’t worth it. I don’t know where the fight is going to be. Once it started there should be noises and lights to tell her where it was located. I’ll be able to move closer then. Perhaps go across the rooftops, like Cery and I used to do, back when we were children of the slums …

“The view’s no better here,” a voice said behind her.

She jumped and spun around. Regin stood near the top of the stairs, arms crossed. Embarrassment at being found, then a selfish relief that he was here, was followed by a flash of concern and annoyance.

“Regin!” she hissed. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugged and uncrossed his arms. “I followed you, of course, though I got stuck downstairs for the last few hours, hiding from the people down there. They just left, by the way.”