Cold Fire (Spiritwalker #2) - Page 207/210

The general took a swallow from his cup and set it down atop a bold headline announcing the declaration of a new government for Expedition Territory. “So, Cat, have you come to join my army? I could certainly use a spy of your abilities. I’ve worked with Hassi Barahals before and hope to again. Or you could join my Amazon corps, as your mother did.”

“I’m married.”

He sighed. “I know the Wild Hunt took him. My condolences at his death. I have suffered a similar blow.”

I had no desire to mock his grief for his dead wife. Nor did he need to know what I knew. So I cut to the chase.

“I am here to reclaim my sword.”

“Are you?” he asked with a faint smile.

“I am.”

He raised an eyebrow. “An answer to a question.”

“You can give it to me, or I can take it. But I’m getting it now, because I hear you’re leaving soon to invade Europa with five hundred men.”

“One thousand one hundred and thirty-four, to be exact. We may lose or gain a few before the ships sail. I have new recruits, and old guard.”

I could not help myself. I laughed. “You’re going to conquer Europa with one thousand soldiers?”

He lifted his cup as if in toast to the fifty or so people crowded in the chamber, all of whom watched him raptly. “I started with fewer in my first command.”

“You lack a woman who walks the dreams of dragons.”

“I have Bee’s sketchbook.”

“How did you get that?”

“She gave it to me before she went to her wedding.”

“I don’t believe you. I think you stole it like you stole my sword.”

He let this accusation pass. “I also have a fire mage.”

“One with no scruples,” I said.

“As the Roman poet said, ‘The end justifies the means.’”

“A Roman would say that!”

The door into the back courtyard opened. A young man stepped into the chamber wearing a frightfully garish dash jacket of purple fabric printed with stylized orange and black stones. “Cat? I thought I heard your voice.”

“Rory!” From across the chamber, he winked at me, and I smiled. “Why are you here?”

“I didn’t want to go with our sire. So I stayed behind. This man was the only person I knew.”

“You’re coming with me now, Rory. The general is a bad man, and you’re not to trust him. And while you’re back there, I give my cold steel into your hand for long enough to bring it to me. And by the way, my friends, I would not try to stop him, because if you do I will tell him to become the saber-toothed cat he really is, and then he will eat you all up because it looks to me as if you haven’t been feeding him properly.”

“I wondered why he had your sword.” Rory grabbed the braided cord and lifted it off the bracket, careful not to touch any part of the cane or let it swing against him. He strolled down between two tables as the general watched without trying to stop him. I received the cane from Rory and gestured for him to stand behind me.

“My thanks, General, for holding on to that for me until I could retrieve it.”

He rose. “Why did the cacica die, Cat? Do you know?”

“‘Where the hand of fortune branches, Tara Bell’s child must choose.’ It isn’t always about you, General.” I made sure to offer a cutting smile to Drake. “But next time, it might be you, James.”

He rubbed his chin. “I only slept with you to get at him,” he muttered, but his resentful tone made me wonder what else simmered beneath the surface.

“Drake. Enough.” Camjiata considered me. “You know, Cat, there is another reason Tara Bell might have sworn in court that Daniel sired you. Maybe some other man sired you, someone she was willing to die to save you from by making sure Daniel had custody of you after you were born. Do you suppose that could be true?”

I could keep my lips sealed, but I hadn’t Vai’s ability to crush my emotions behind a mask of disdain.

The general’s bold eyebrows rose, and an expression shuddered across his face like the ripple of a dragon’s dream in the spirit world, obliterating the familiar world and replacing it with an unknown landscape yet to be explored. Then the flutter of surprise and disquietude vanished so utterly that I found I feared him for his self-control. “That explains why you look like Tara and not at all like Daniel. And why your hair and eyes resemble neither.” He glanced at Rory. “I see this may be more complicated than even I originally thought. We are not done, Cat, you and I.”