Any old death would do just as long as he was the first mage to reach the rock after my untimely demise.
I still made no move to touch Rudra’s letter. “It’s been opened.”
Imala Kalis laughed. “Of course it has. First I had to break the spell, then the seal. It was a nasty one, too.”
“Hardly surprising. Then you’ve read it.”
“Yes, it was the most direct way to confirm what else he’s up to. The contents are no surprise to me—as I doubt they will be to you. My advice is to read it, burn it, and ignore it. His assurances are lies and his promises poison.”
I took the parchment and, after muttering a quick shielding spell, I unfolded the paper, holding it so Tam could read along with me.
Imala Kalis was right; Rudra’s letter contained the same demands, though he had made the effort to spin a new, sick twist on them. He still wanted me and the Saghred. And like Sarad Nukpana, Rudra knew about the umi’atsu bond between me, Tam, Mychael, and the Saghred. And the only way to stop him from posting an announcement on the citadel’s front doors would be for me to surrender to him.
Come to the goblin embassy alone and your secret is safe. If you come to me, Tamnais and Mychael will not be exposed. Refuse me and you will all die—and I will still get what I want. It will merely take longer. I offer you the opportunity to save Tamnais and Mychael. They would give their lives for you. Would you give your soul for them?
Several weeks ago, Tam, Mychael, and I had used the power we could generate and share through our umi’atsu bond to close a Hellgate that Rudra Muralin and his black mage allies had opened. Imala Kalis had been there in the shadows, watching. She knew what we’d done—and how we’d done it.
My first impulse was to mutter a fire spell and torch the offending piece of parchment. As usual, Rudra didn’t sign it, so it was worthless as evidence against him, but Mychael would want to see it, so I folded it and put it in the small leather purse on my belt. No way was I tucking anything Rudra had touched inside my doublet. If I were Imala Kalis, when I went home, I’d take a bath.
As to what I was going to do about it—bottom line was that I didn’t like being bullied. When I was a kid, being small meant I’d been a target; being a Benares meant deadly backup was a whistle away. The only thing I hated more than a bully was asking someone to protect me from one. I took on my own bullies, thank you very much—even if they were thousand-year-old, obscenely powerful psychotic megalomaniacs.
“Vintage Rudra,” I noted dryly. “I give him what he wants and he promises to kill me nicely.” I looked directly at Imala Kalis. “And are you here to tell me the same thing?”
She gazed at me a moment, her expression unreadable. “I am not. I have no intentions of revealing the contents of that letter.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but that’s one of those things that I’ll believe when I don’t see it.”
“Considering who and what the two of us are, I expected no less. I’m not asking for your belief or trust; though you will know soon enough that my words are the truth.”
“That would be nice, but I’m not going to hold my breath for it.”
She shrugged. “Were I in your place, I would do the same.” She gave me a small, self-satisfied smile. “And do not concern yourself with Rudra Muralin. The ambassador will be unable to act on any of his threats for at least the next three days.”
“Three days?”
Cute turned to fierce. “Rudra Muralin poisoned two of my people. They nearly died. Naturally, I retaliated. Three days is the length of time it takes to recover from a particular intestinal malady caused by a certain tasteless and odorless plant. Several of the ambassador’s closest advisors have mysteriously contracted it and are spending most of their time in the privy.” She smiled fully. “Whenever the ambassador wants advice, he has to go to where his advisors are. He’s quite unused to carrying out a plan without his lackeys. Your secret is safe for at least that long.”
Tam laughed. “Rudra forced to plot in the privy. If it weren’t for the stench, I’d almost pay to see that.”
“Unfortunately, Rudra didn’t eat the fish that night,” Imala Kalis told him. “I knew I should have put it in the beef.” She shrugged. “He has to eat again sometime. If he wishes to avoid an embassy-wide case of the runs, he will come to terms with me.”
“Terms?”
“I will accept nothing short of his resignation, then I will personally see him on a ship back to Regor—or to Hell for all I care.”
“Didn’t King Sathrik appoint him personally?” I asked.
“As head of the secret service, Imala outranks a mere ambassador,” Tam informed me.
Nice.
“And Sathrik knows of your botanical activities?” I asked Imala.
The cute smile was back. “It is not my intention to tell him.”
“You know who and what and how old Rudra Muralin is, right?” I asked her.
“I make it my business to know my enemies, Mistress Benares—to know what strengths can be turned against them and which weaknesses may be exploited. I think I would refer to that creature as a ‘what,’ not a ‘who.’ ”
I grinned at her. I couldn’t help it. I didn’t know why Imala Kalis was here or what she wanted, but I had to admit that the lady had style. “Rudra with the runs; that would be priceless.”“Since he has a food taster whom I do not wish to harm, I’ve now tainted his soap. He’s especially fond of bathing.”
“Are the contents of that letter why you’re here?” Tam asked Imala Kalis.
I knew he meant her knowing about our umi’atsu bond.
“No.” She lowered her voice. “It is not in my best interests, or yours, for the contents of that letter to become public.”
“When will it be in your best interests?” Frost rolled off of Tam’s words.
“Never.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I didn’t expect you to. I’m here to help you. And if we can stop standing in the middle of the street, I can tell you why.”
Tam lowered his voice. “You can tell me right here.”
“And if I refuse?” Her words were playful but her eyes weren’t.
“Then Raine and I will go inside—and you and your men will leave.”
All signs of cute instantly vanished. “This is not a topic you want discussed openly.”
“I’ll decide that,” Tam countered smoothly. “Tell me what—”
There was a whistle and a thump and a goblin guard’s eyes went wide in pain and shock. He slid from horse to the street, a crossbow bolt embedded in his back. Two of the goblins posted at the end of the street were next. Then the air was thick with shouts and bolts.
I caught a flash of one of the shooters on a roof across the street. Dark clothes, with a tight, dark hood over his head.
The goblins nearest Imala Kalis instantly surrounded her, forming a goblin and equine shield around their boss. Tam and Vegard moved to protect me. They needn’t have bothered. I was in the shadows of Sirens before they could pull me there. I didn’t want to be turned into a pincushion, and I did want to know who was trying to make me one.
Vegard’s hands glowed incandescent white. The glow turned to white flame, spinning faster than the eye could follow into a whirling ball of fire. One shot skyward, a flare blazing straight up into the night sky. Vegard held the second fireball in his hand and scanned the rooftops. His lips curled back from his teeth in a feral snarl as he hurled it at the roofline of a nightclub across the street. A sniper erupted in burning white light and fell screaming three stories down to the street. There wasn’t much left when he landed. A blast of flame from a sentry dragon circling in the skies above the city signaled that Vegard’s flare had been seen. A second and a third dragon responded to the call. Backup was on the way, but would there be anything left of us when they got here?
A voice shouted three words from above us, each with its own discordant pitch and vibrating with a power that charged the air like the aftermath of a lightning strike. It was magic—raw, potent, and dangerous.
Talon.
Oh hell, kid. Not now.
I looked up to see Talon leaning out of a window two stories above us, his eyes fixed on a figure in the shadows not a dozen feet from where we were standing.
Shit.
I drew blades and the man didn’t move; I mean, he didn’t move at all. He had a crossbow, it was loaded, but it was only half-raised. The man was frozen. Not with a paralysis spell; I knew the residuals of a paralysis spell. This wasn’t it. It was as if Talon had stopped time for him.
That was impossible.
Tam saw what his son had done, and from the nearly sick expression on his face, I knew it was something Talon had no business doing, especially not with a street full of goblin secret service agents.
Talon nimbly swung out of the window and onto a fire escape ladder attached to the stone wall. The kid wasn’t coming down to us; he was running up that ladder to the roof.
Now it was my turn to feel sick. There were snipers up there and Talon was going after them. Alone. Recently Talon had taken on a major demon with his voice, and at that moment I’d known that the kid’s spellsongs weren’t limited to making Sirens’ clientele horny.
This was a deadly skill—and an inexperienced, impulsive teenager who had no clue of his own mortality had it.
We had to get up to that roof.
Two more goblins lay motionless in the street, their riderless horses adding to the chaos. As I watched, a Guardian went down. They had all shielded themselves with war magic so strong it was like a wall between them and whatever tried to get through. Solid work. The bolts passed through like there was nothing there. That meant there was magic of the blackest kind involved.
A hood did more than hide a face; it hid skin color and ears.
“Khrynsani!” shouted one of the goblins.