Beyond Your Touch (23 page)

I moved on to the next woman, offering her wine, breathing in deep to see if she was the source. She smelled of gardenias. Not sandalwood.

“I'll have a drop more,” a woman to my left said, the lilt of her voice drifting like music. Warmth radiated in my chest and my whole body tingled with joy. I could smell sandalwood on her too. But I didn't need it anymore. Her voice, I did remember it. Mother! It was all I could do to not throw my arms around her and scream out who I was.

My hands shook as I tipped the decanter and let wine slowly dribble into her chalice. I raised my eyes, bracing myself to be met by a blank face. My mouth dropped open and my eyes went wide in disbelief. She may have dressed like the other women, but she wasn't ethereal. She had a face: warm brown eyes, deep golden skin, full lips.

Wrinkles fanned out from the corners of her eyes, as if I were a puzzle she couldn't quite piece together. Suddenly, the wrinkles vanished and stunned recognition flashed across her face, vanishing quickly behind a mask of lightheartedness.

“It's funny,” she said, her words enounced succinctly, as if chosen with extreme control and care, “I haven't noticed it before, but you look like someone I knew a long time ago.” She laughed an airy sound that abruptly clenched as her eyes darted to her chalice. “Ah—that's enough?”

I followed her gaze. The wine was overflowing her chalice. “Oh, crap,” I sputtered, lifting the decanter upright.

“Clumsy eunuch.” Malphic's voice came from directly behind me. In one burly motion, he strode up and took the chalice from Mother. His free hand swooped down and captured her wine-moistened fingertips. Raising them to his lips, he kissed away the dark trail of liquid. He shot a glare at me. “Why are you still standing there? Leave us.” His eyes went back to Mother. “His brain must have been removed along with his balls.”

Ducking back into my hood, I bowed and scuffed backward, searching for other eunuchs to blend in with—and watching out for the burn-faced spy. But even as I retreated, I felt Mother's eyes on me, lingering as Malphic cleared his throat. “Friends,” he said, and the room stilled. “I've been informed that the moon has risen and the arena fires have been lit. Our entertainment awaits.”

CHAPTER 26

 

—Note in black bottle
Found in Pirate's Coffin

 

 

W
ith Malphic and Vephra in the lead, the crowd siphoned toward an open archway. I hung back, walking with the other eunuchs as everyone left the hall and entered a wide corridor flanked with rooms and hallways. I'd lost track of Mother, but undoubtedly she was among the small group of women trailing not far behind Vephra. At least I'd connected with her and I was certain she knew who I was. She had to know why I'd come. Once we reached the arena, I'd connect with her again, find Chase and Lotli, and we'd all head back to the spire and get the hell out of here.

I tucked my hands up into my sleeves, keeping my head as deep into my hood as I could without losing sight of the women. Mother was solid, not ethereal. Chase had told me she had that capability and I should have given it more consideration when I went looking for her. There was something else I should have considered too, something seeing her solid had driven home. Was her ability inherited, like an inborn gift? One I might also have?

I shook my head. No. I'd know if I had some weird gift like that. I was normal, at least as normal as someone who had my ancestors could be.

Ahead, the corridor opened for a short span onto a portico with a view of the torchlit arena in the distance. After that, it closed off again into a dark tunnel, sort of like a stadium entryway. My legs weakened, as a terrifying thought rattled through my head:
Chase is probably already in the arena, waiting for me.

Someone moved in close behind me, so close they brushed the back of my robe. My hand went for my dagger. But before I could take hold of it, a vicelike grip yanked my arm out of my pocket and twisted it behind my back, while another hand reached around and clamped my windpipe.

“Come with me,” a man's voice growled in my ear.

Oh God. Malphic's spy. He'd recognized me. I was dead. More than dead.

His grip tightened on my throat. I couldn't breathe, faintness closed in. I had no choice other than to let him haul me backward, away from the procession, like a leopard separating his next meal from the herd.

He towed me through a black curtain and into what felt like a small room. It was hot and humid and dark, except for faint red light filtering out from a wall sconce. Overhead, sallow grapelike globules of what appeared to be cocoons hung down, glowing crimson under the strange light. Hanks of rope and machines waited in the shadows. Wooden and brass gears. Wheels. A strange hum. Fuck, a torture chamber.

“Keep your mouth shut,” he snarled close to my ear. His grip on my windpipe eased a little, but he cinched my arm tighter as if to stress his point before releasing me.

I whirled to face him. If I was about to die, I'd look my captor in the eyes first.

In front of me stood a brown-robed eunuch as tall as Chase, but less broad-shouldered. My heart banged so hard that my whole body shook. I gulped a breath to steady myself. I had to think. I couldn't assume he knew that I was human. This could be about the spilled wine. This could be an ass-chewing.

His right hand moved toward his waistline, to where a pair of heavy leather gloves and a short whip were tucked into his belt. My body went numb. A flogging. Maybe I could bear the pain, but the second he saw me naked, he'd know I wasn't a eunuch.

His hand left his waistline, swept upward, and pushed back his hood.

He was black and in his late teens or early twenties. His hair was as dark and wavy as Culus's had been. At some point he had to have been as handsome as Chase, but a scar that ran from his left eye down to his upper lip gave a cruel twist to his mouth. What was he waiting for? What kind of freakish shit did eunuchs do to avoid whipping? What was I expected to do?

I started to lower my head subserviently, but he yanked my chin up until my hood slid back, revealing my face.

“I know who you are,” he said. “I saw how she looked at you.”

I flung my hand into my pocket, reaching for the salt, but his free hand clamped down on my arm.

Shit.

I clenched my teeth and kept my eyes on his. But my pulse roared in my ears as my head whirred with images of being forced to my knees and of him having his fun, then being dragged in front of Malphic, my execution the grand finale of the festival.

His gaze scorched mine. “I'm Chase's half brother Jaquith.”

CHAPTER 27

 

—Wisdom of those who stood behind
the throne of Solomon

 

 

J
aquith let go of my chin.

Stunned, I blinked at him. “Chase said . . . He told me he had half brothers. But he thought you were probably—dead.”

“I chose the alternative.” He motioned to his crotch.

“Oh, shit. That's—” My voice stalled as I failed to find anything to say to a guy who'd had his nuts removed. He must have done something horrible to deserve that, especially since the intact parts of his face told me for sure that Malphic was the parent he had in common with Chase. That also told me that I couldn't afford to trust him. This could be a ruse to get me to reveal how many of us were here and where everyone else was.

As if he'd read my mind, he nodded. “You're smart not to trust me. But you must. Once we arrive at the arena, your mother will be at Malphic's table. It's up on a stage. Only high-ranking guests and their servants are allowed in that area. Everyone else is seated in the gallery—or ringside if you happen to be escorting a
performer
.”

I kept my face placid and my stance relaxed while I watched his body language for clues that might reveal how much he knew. Unfortunately, his stance mirrored mine, telling me that he was doing the same thing.

His gaze drifted over me, unflinching and unnervingly similar to Chase's. “My guess,” he said, rocking back on his heels, “is that you would not be dressed as a eunuch unless you had someone to guard. I'm certain Chase is here, which means he's most likely impersonating a bodyguard, because that's what he's most suited to. That means you both are here with either a performer or someone posing as a female guest. Which is it?”

I glared at him. “What makes you so sure I'm not alone?”

He studied me again, tapping his finger against his whip. “There are three of you, perhaps four. After the last rescue attempt, I find it hard to believe that Malphic would neglect to ward that weak point in the veil. That tells me one of you has powerful abilities and perhaps the kind of looks that could distract a guard.”

My brain told me to keep my mouth shut and trust no one, like Chase had said. But beneath Jaquith's tough and very much terrifying exterior, behind that unflinching Chase-like gaze, there was a trace of warmth, and that warmth came through even more strongly when he said Chase's name. He loved his brother.

His voice deepened. “My duty as head eunuch calls for me to be up on the stage with Malphic as well as ringside. I can tell your mother when and where to meet you. I know the shortcuts, which carpets lead back to the spire. With me as a go-between, your plan might work.”

I looked past him, focusing on the machinery and the hanks of rope, dyed bloodred by the freakish light. My eyes narrowed as I realized the rope was in reality skeins of silk. If I put that together with the cocoons, then most likely the machines were for processing silk or perhaps for weaving carpets. If I could so easily misjudge them—and so many other things in recent history—then perhaps I shouldn't be too quick to judge Jaquith. Still, I couldn't afford to be a fool either.

I trained my gaze on his, preparing to catch even the tiniest hint of a lie, and asked, “Why do you want to help us?”

“I owe it to Chase.” He turned away, glancing back toward the curtained doorway as if checking to make sure no one was watching. His voice had once again sounded warm, but his movement had left me without time to read his expression. He pivoted back. “It's your choice. But you need to decide if you want my help now. I'll be the one getting lashed if I don't hurry up and get to the arena.”

Wetting my lips, I prepared to test him again. If he was straight with me this time, then I'd be open with him. “First, tell me one more thing. What happened to Malphic's guard, the one with the messed-up face?”

“That's a strange question,” he said. He shrugged. “He was on duty in the spire and got dragged through one of the gateways and into a mosque. A dozen clerics jumped him.”

My mouth twitched. I couldn't help it.
A dozen clerics?
Bullshit.

Jaquith laughed. His scar bent his lips into a sneer instead of a smile, but his eyes brightened. “You did that to him?” He reached out and tugged my hood back up. “We need to get you out of here and back to your realm, long before he sees you.”

The muscles in my shoulders relaxed a little. I gave him a small smile. “The performer's a flutist.”

He nodded. “Good. It's too late for her to avoid performing. But once she's finished, I'll get your mother for you, and you can all get out of there before the fights begin.” He hesitated, rubbing a hand across his chest, just above his heart. When he spoke his voice was deadly serious. “Has Chase matured yet?”

My face went cold and I knew I'd paled, but no way in hell was I going to answer that question.

“I understand that you might not want to tell me,” he said gently. “But it's important—vitally so.”

“I really don't know,” I mumbled, my jaw clenching.

His eyebrows lifted, like he didn't believe me. “Let's hope he's not close.” He flagged his fingers at his crotch. “I asked for this, for a reason. When those of us who are a mix of human and ifrit—like me and Chase—near maturity, any kind of rush can send us over the top: sparring, the smell of the blood, the roar of a crowd.
Sex
.” He raised his eyebrows once more as he looked at me.

For once I managed to not blush, mostly because the tone of his voice warned me that I was about to get a much darker version of this maturing change than Chase had given me. “Ah—you mean your instincts kick in and you get hyper?”

“That's part of it. When the change happens, genies go through a phase of fearless rage and indifference. It's a lot like battle-frenzy. It lasts a few moments or one night at the most. It's the same for all genies—except for half ifrits.”

He paused, staring off into the distance. I took a step back, curling my hands into my sleeves, wishing I could vanish and not hear the rest, certain I needed to. Finally, I nudged, “Go on. I want to know the truth.”

His voice cracked a little. “Most of us half ifrits never come out of that battle-frenzy stage. We remain berserk and live in the lowest level of the fortress, wandering the desert at night, full of rage and bloodlust, nothing more than a weapon for Malphic to use as he sees fit. Sometimes it's even worse. We turn into mindless killers, and Malphic has our life energy drained until we fade and die prematurely.” His chest rose as he drew in a deep breath. “I didn't want to go berserk or have to be killed—and I knew I didn't have the strength to survive the change without that happening. I chose a different kind of knife instead.”

A chill swept my body, leaving me trembling and light-headed. Chase was on the cusp of maturing. If he went to the arena, if he fought for any reason, Jaquith was saying it could trigger the change, and he could go berserk, or worse.

My mind went back to the sweet Chase I loved: his smile and the sound of his laughter when we'd wrestled on his bed, squirting doughnut jelly all over each other, the warmth of his hand when we'd gone to his secret place near the pines and watched the sunset and the stars rise. The way he protected everyone. The patience he showed Zachary. My Chase. Would this maturing . . . could this maturing . . . could it leave him unable to tell those of us who loved him from his enemies? My chest squeezed, a sharp pain cinching it tight. Chase. Berserk? No. He had to get out of here.

Jaquith pulled his hood up. “I owe Chase my life. If it weren't for him watching over me all those years, I'd have been killed long ago.”

I nodded. “He wouldn't be Chase if he'd done anything else.” It was so true: Me. Jaquith. My mother. Lotli. My dad. My whole family, for that matter. Chase watched over all of us—even Kate's sheep and the stinking cats.

“Um—” Jaquith patted his whip. “It doesn't matter if you're a member of Malphic's household or part of a visiting entourage, as head eunuch it's my duty to punish you—for spilling the wine. We need to get going, but perhaps you could—”

“Like this?” I hunched over and gripped my stomach as if in pain.

“Exactly.” He gave me a twisted smile. “Chase deserves friends like you.”

No. It was more like what had we done to deserve a friend like Chase.

I hobbled behind Jaquith back out through the curtained doorway, onto the portico and into the tunnel. Frescoes depicting fights covered the walls, almost looking alive in the wavering torchlight. Some were of men covered in tattoos with flamelike blue auras, others depicted younger guys with glowing blue marks on their skin, a few were boy warriors, and even fewer looked like women. Some were man-shaped shadows battling wolfmen that were transforming into whirlwinds. Some fought over pits filled with jaguars and cobras, over pools teaming with deadly looking fish and eels. Swords. Bows. Knives. Rods. Hatchets. Blood. Guts.

I shuddered. A bit farther on, less gruesome scenes mixed in: dancers and musicians, glowing genies and humans having sex, warriors getting blow jobs: pretty much a genie version of the Kama Sutra. Every now and again, we passed a side tunnel or a hanging carpet.

“Remember this one.” Jaquith pointed at a deep amethyst carpet with a border of stars and a light blue moon at the top. Without stopping or even slowing his strides, he said, “After you go through it, take the one with the gold wasps, that's assuming you want to get to the top spire. Be careful, though. I once took a carpet with green butterflies instead of red and ended up down in the berserker quarters.”

“Got it. Gold wasps,” I said. I quit hobbling and lengthened my strides to keep up with him. No matter what happened, I'd stick with Chase's advice and avoid the carpets at all costs.

As we went around a curve, the roar of distant clapping and shouts echoed through the tunnel. A small army of servants in long striped tunics rushed past, going in the opposite direction, their arms weighed down with empty platters and buckets of rib bones. They dipped their heads at Jaquith and looked right past me as if I were invisible, which was perfectly fine with me.

Jaquith stopped where the tunnel we were in intersected with another, forming a sort of crossroads. “Straight ahead leads up onto the stage where Malphic and your mother will be. As soon as the flutist is done performing, your mother and I'll meet you three here.” He turned left. “This tunnel goes to the arena and ringside seating. Unless something's gone wrong, Chase and your flutist should be there by now.”

I appreciated his inside knowledge and advice. But the idea of him choosing where and when we'd meet and what route we'd take to escape didn't sit well with me, any more than the idea of diving through carpets. However, that didn't bother me half as much as the nagging fear that Chase and Lotli might not be waiting in the arena—or that they were there, but the change had overtaken Chase and he was on the verge of going berserk.

A nauseous feeling churned in my stomach. I pressed my hand over the egg pendant, wishing it really did have the power to protect us and wasn't merely symbolic like Olya had said. We needed all the luck we could get.

The distant roar of the arena took on its true volume as we strode out of the tunnel and into the open-air performance area. Moonlight and the aurora's fluxing colors bathed everything, silver, lime-green, and violet. The air was thick with smoke and the scent of roasting meat and musty wine. The three disks I'd seen from the balcony were platforms, like circular boxing rings each surrounded by flames instead of ropes or nets. To my right was a long stage, raised nearly a story above the performance area. On it, Malphic, Vephra, and the rest of their crowd sat in chairs along the far side of a cloth-draped table covered with bottles and chalices, and heaped with food. Behind them, marble columns formed a backdrop, through which the ocean, craggy outcrops of rocks, and the full moon were visible. I couldn't see Mother, but she had to be up there somewhere.

“Over there.” Jaquith barked it like an order and shoved me to the left and toward where a stone grandstand curved along one side of the arena. Warriors packed the seats, mostly younger guys, a few older men and eunuchs, a couple were perhaps girls, some had wolfish or cobra-like faces; shadow-genies and uniformed guards stood at attention. It was horrifyingly unreal, like a nightmare version of a college football game or an outdoor concert gone wrong.

For a moment, I was overwhelmed by it all and couldn't move. Then a warrior standing next to the grandstand's lowest tier waved me in his direction. I hunched subserviently and limped toward him through the smoke and noise, keeping my gaze on the marks twining up his arms. I didn't dare raise my eyes, not with so many genies around, so many eyes to see if I made a wrong move.

I was only a few paces away from the warrior when it dawned on me that the shape of his sculpted arms and body were ungodly familiar. My heart skipped a beat, relief crashing over me. Chase. I gave him a quick scan, my spirits lifting even more. His stance, his eyes, everything about him said he was okay, more than okay. I glanced around a bit more and discovered Lotli huddled on a bench near Chase, once again cocooned in her veils. Beyond her, dozens of costumed performers, warriors, and brown-robed eunuchs sat, talking and drinking. This definitely was the ringside tier Jaquith had mentioned.