Tomas was right. Shedid get a look in her eyes that could singe a man’s ball hairs.
“Sorry,” Jared muttered as he bolted out the door.
Thera’s shout was muffled by the wagon door banging shut.
Ignoring a stab of envy, Jared corked the whiskey bottle and vanished it.
And realized he was missing a witch.
A quick probe of the surrounding area was rewarded by an annoyed mental jab.
A minute later, Lia emerged from behind the bushes, less than pleased to see him.
He matched her stride and waited.
“We’ll go to Ranon’s Wood,” Lia said quietly.
“Fine.” Jared replied politely.
He knew that would be her decision—not because of the help they’d find there, but because it was his home. If she’d realized it was that close, she probably would have headed there a lot sooner.
Getting her charges home. Getting one more to safety before her luck ran out. She’d focus on that until they reached Ranon’s Wood.
Too late, she’d realize her error.
Jared smiled in anticipation. It was going to be such fun watching Lia try to dodge around his father’s code of honor.
Chapter Sixteen
Barely dawn. Barely light enough to see. Didn’t matter.
Krelis drove his knife into the straw man that hung from the whipping posts. He didn’t strike between the ribs and into the heart for a fast kill, but in the belly, in the guts. Over and over again.
The straw man swung back and forth with each blow. Back and forth.
Over and over and over.
There was nothing wrong with his plan.Nothing .
Except that bitch-Queen had tricked him from the very beginning.
Except the High Priestess was becoming impatient.
That wasn’t good. It wasn’tsafe .
But it wasn’t his fault that Gray-Jeweled bitch had tricked him. It wasn’t his fault that the side scheme Dorothea had arranged with another Black Widow had ruined a good ambush. It wasn’t his fault that his relatives regarded his mother as the family whore, an accommodation when a more socially powerful male deigned to visit them. It wasn’t his fault that the damn man who had sired him couldn’t keep his mouth shut, couldn’t accept that all ofTerreille was slowly changing, not just the lousy little Province he lived in.
It wasn ‘t his fault.
Stab stab stab.
“Lord Krelis.”
And now he had to deal with that aristo bastard Maryk who must resent every breath he took because Maryk now had to yield to him when, just six months ago, Maryk had been giving him orders.
“Lord Krelis.”
Breathing hard, Krelis stepped away from the straw man and stared at his second-in-command.
Something slithered in the depths of Maryk’s eyes as he regarded the figure tied to the whipping posts.
“He was a difficult slave,” Maryk said carefully, lifting his voice at the end to make it almost a question.
Puzzled. Krelis looked at the straw man.
He saw the blood. Smelled the bowel. And couldn’t remember the exact moment he’d exchanged the straw practice figure for a living man.
“I’ll take care of it,” Maryk said quietly. “Get cleaned up.”
Krelis dropped the knife and walked away, stumbling a little now that the fury was gone. Stumbling a little, and feeling more than a little sick, because the something in Maryk’s eyes was pity.
Chapter Seventeen
“Well?“ Jared asked when Blaed met him where the main road forked with a stony track.
Blaed patted the sweating mare’s neck, then lengthened the reins to give her a chance to stretch her back.
“I didn’t see any sign of riders passing down that track,” Blaed said cautiously, “but it’s stony ground.” Then he took a deep breath and huffed it out. “Hell’s fire, Jared, I’m not a trained guard. I can handle a knife, and I know how to fight with Craft, but I could have looked at something obvious and not known it. The track does seem to run straight north. It’s wide enough to accommodate the wagon, although there’s a stretch that looks like it was cut out of the rock. No maneuvering room there.”
“So once we’re in that stretch, we’re committed to going forward.”
Blaed nodded.
Jared rubbed his thumb over the saddle horn. “Anything else?”
“There’s a large nest of viper rats among the boulders. I didn’t see them, but I heard them.”
Jared smiled grimly. “If we lock the boys in the wagon, we just might avoid having one of them get bit.”
Blaed waited. “Well?”
Jared looked back up the road he’d spent the past hour scouting, probing. “I found signs of a large group of riders having come this way recently. A day ago. Maybe two. But I didn’t find them.”
Blaed rubbed his neck. “A Red probe can cover a lot of ground.”
“And a Black Widow can spin a web that would defeat that probe.”
An uncomfortable silence settled between them.
The four of them had gathered inside the wagon late last night. During the talking and planning, a lot of things had been revealed.
Lia had told Thera and Blaed the reasons the “Gray Lady” had gone to Raej one last time. She’d told them about the wrongness she had felt and about the warning note that had sent them fleeing cross-country.
But she didn’t tell them why she hadn’t been able to buy passage on a second Coach.
Then Thera had told the three of them about the tangled webs she’d created for the wagon.
Jared still wasn’t sure if he’d have felt easier if he’d known about Thera’s precaution earlier, but that kind of skill in a witch not fully trained had served as a sharp reminder of why Black Widows, with their ability to ensnare or deceive a person’s mind, were so dangerous.
She’d called it a mirroring web. A fairly simple tangled web. When triggered by a psychic probe, the web returned a message more subtle than a thought or a feeling. The probe would touch the web and deliver a simple message:Nothing there .
While they were still at the inn Lia had brought them to after leaving Raej, Thera had embedded four of those tangled webs into the wood of the wagon—one on each side. She couldn’t—or wouldn’t—say why she’d done it. But Jared suspected she’d been covering her own tracks, just in case her sire had somehow been able to trace her to the slave auction. It didn’t really matter who she’d originally created those webs to hide, the result was the same: How many times during their journey had someone probed for them after finding one of those brass buttons and found “nothing there”?