Red Hood's Revenge (33 page)

It was Rajil herself who spoke, though she was hidden from view. “Whoever you are, you shall suffer for—”

“I have Princess Talia,” Roudette interrupted.

“Give me proof.” Undisguised eagerness dripped from Rajil’s words.

Roudette reached over to grab Talia by the throat. Caught off guard, Talia slammed a fist into the outside of Roudette’s elbow. Roudette grunted and tightened her hold. Snow was readying a spell when Talia relaxed, allowing herself to be dragged in front of the mirror.

“I’ve a very generous offer from Queen Lakhim for this one,” Roudette said. “I’ve been told your fairy friends can pay more, but if not, I’ll be on my way.”

Snow watched as the jinniyah stepped aside, making way for Rajil. Hatred filled Rajil’s gaze as she studied Talia. One hand touched her throat, no doubt remembering Talia’s arm clamping around her neck. Rajil’s gaze moved to Roudette. “I know you.”

Snow tensed. Roudette had been in her wolf shape the entire time they were in the mansion. If Rajil had somehow recognized Roudette and realized she was working with Talia, this plan was useless. But Rajil merely smiled. “How did the Lady of the Red Hood find the power to control my scrying pool?”

“I didn’t,” Roudette said easily. “That was done by one of Talia’s friends, a witch from Lorindar.”

“Talia’s
friend
helped you?” Rajil asked.

“Not at first.” Roudette bared her teeth. “They had another friend. By the time I shattered both of her knees, the witch agreed to do whatever I asked.”

Few things rattled Snow these days, but Roudette’s casual smile as she lied about torturing Danielle made her shudder. Something in Roudette’s eyes suggested she would have no qualms about doing exactly what she said if the situation required it.

“What is it you want?” Rajil asked.

“Zestan controls the Wild Hunt. I want her word as a fairy that the Hunt will never again enter Morova.”

Snow frowned. That hadn’t been part of the discussion.

Rajil didn’t even blink. “How will we find you?”

Roudette grabbed Snow’s robe, hauling her in front of the glass. “The witch will lead you.”

“The mirror,” Snow said, doing her best to sound broken and resentful. “There’s a bond connecting it to your pool. Any halfway competent wizard can follow that thread.”

Rajil smiled, hunger plain on her face as she stared at Talia. “I will pass your request to Zestan. Perhaps she’ll be kind enough to give Talia’s friends to me in payment. They would make fine additions to my garden.”

Roudette brought the mirror to her face, so close her breath clouded the glass. “You have until sunrise. I know Zestan wants Talia alive. Betray me, and I’ll kill her myself. I’ll claim my bounty from Lakhim, and you can explain your failure to Zestan.”

With a thought, Snow darkened the mirror. She tugged free of Roudette’s grip and massaged her eyes, trying to ease the headache. She still needed to cast yet another enchantment that would allow the others to follow Talia and Roudette. “We’re safe. They can’t hear us unless I let them.”

“We will follow you as quickly as we can,” said Muhazil. “The Wild Hunt has plagued my people for too long. I am in your debt.”

“Yes, you are.” Talia slashed a hand through the air, cutting him off. This was a side of Talia that Snow had rarely seen. She held her head high, articulating every syllable. She was shorter than Muhazil, but her posture made it seem as though she was looking down at him. “In payment of that debt, you will welcome Faziya back into your tribe. This shall be her home for as long as she chooses.”

Muhazil glanced at Faziya, who had gone still at Talia’s words. “She left of her own free will. She walked away from her heritage, from her—”

“Do we have a bargain?” Talia asked.

Muhazil bowed, one hand to his chest. “We do indeed, Princess.” He turned to shoo the crowd away. When the others had left, he said, “If Zestan is indeed deev, you know there is little chance you will survive. The strength of a deev can split mountains. Their temper shakes the earth itself. Their skin is like rock, their—”

“Their flatulence slays entire herds,” said Talia. “Yes, I know. I learned about the deev before your grandfather was born.”

Muhazil burst into laughter. “So you did.” He glanced to the south. “I hope you are wrong about Zestan, Princess. For your sake, and for Arathea’s.”

“Y
OU’RE STAYING HERE.” Talia’s tone left no room for argument. Naturally, Danielle argued anyway.

“You’re taking Snow, but you’d leave me behind?”

“I’d leave Snow too if I could.” Talia and Danielle stood at the edge of the pond, where Talia had been filling a small skin. Even knowing the fairies were coming for her, the habits of the desert were too strongly ingrained for her to set out without water.

She should have known the conversation would follow this path. She should have just punched Danielle out the moment she started talking about coming along. Though there was still time to correct that mistake. “Without Snow’s magic, we’ve no way of leading Turz to Zestan. Or so she claims.”

“So I’m to stay behind, among strangers who can’t even understand my language, while my two best friends go off—”

“Yes.” Talia grabbed Danielle’s shoulders. “You have a son who needs you.
Lorindar
needs you. What would Beatrice say if she knew what you were trying to do?”

“I’ve already talked to Queen Bea,” Danielle said evenly. “I spoke with Armand and Jakob as well.” She pointed to the pouch at Talia’s belt. “Snow is in there already, I assume?”

Talia reluctantly loosened the pouch, allowing Snow to peek out. Snow made a cute mouse, with sandy fur and a long, tufted tail.

“What happens to her if something goes wrong?” Danielle asked.

“We all know what we’re walking into.” Talia pulled Danielle into a quick, awkward hug, being careful not to squish Snow between them. She had been friends with Danielle for almost two years, but she still wasn’t entirely comfortable with the hugging. “I’m sorry. I know how hard it is to be left behind. You and Snow never should have been drawn into this. Don’t ask me to risk your life too.”

“I’m not asking.” Danielle returned the hug, then pulled away. “If you’re killed, Snow will be trapped. She can’t use magic to change herself back without risking discovery. But nobody would notice an owl or hawk swooping down to snatch a mouse. Or two mice. I can get her out, if things go wrong. Leave me behind, and you condemn Snow to die with you.”

It was the one argument that could sway Talia’s mind, and Danielle delivered it as coolly as a master swords-man dispatching a foe. She was as bad as Queen Bea. “You stay hidden. Do nothing unless you need to save yourself and Snow. If I fall, you leave me. No rescue. No mad attempt to summon a gazelle herd against the Wild Hunt. You call your hawk and you flee. Get out of Arathea. Promise me, Danielle.”

“I promise.”

Talia sighed. “Snow, we need one more spell.” A short time later, she was setting off toward the edge of camp, a second mouse squirming in her pouch. Briefly, she considered tying the pouch shut and leaving them both behind. They would be better off, though they’d never forgive her. But if Snow was telling the truth, Talia needed her. And if Danielle could save Snow . . .

“Damn you both,” she muttered.

Up ahead, Faziya stood talking to Roudette. As Talia neared, Roudette tossed her a length of rope.

“Have Faziya bind your wrists. Don’t take long.” Roudette was already walking away. “Zestan’s fairies should be on their way. We want to be away from the valley so we don’t bring them down upon the Kha’iida.”

Talia handed the rope to Faziya. “You’re not coming, so don’t ask.”

“I know.” Faziya took her hand. Her skin was still too cool, especially now that the sun had begun to set, spreading shadow over the valley. “Even if by some miracle you get close enough to strike, the deev are all but impossible to kill. Their skin is impenetrable, save by magic.”

Talia reached into her robe and pulled out one of Roudette’s knives. “Pure iron.”

“That’s not enough,” Faziya protested. “Iron is little more than a nuisance to one such as Zestan. It won’t even scratch the skin.”

“So we aim for a target with no skin to protect it.” Talia flipped the knife, catching it by the tip of the blade. A flick of her wrist sent it spinning through the air, sticking in the stump of a small shrub no more than three fingers thick. “Do you remember when I first learned to throw a knife? I spent weeks practicing until I could plant a blade in a target the size of a man’s eye from seven paces.”

“I remember,” said Faziya. “You killed that poor fig tree, you know.”

“Mother Khardija made that very clear as she was spelling out my punishment.” Talia walked over to retrieve the knife.

“So you’ll kill Zestan. And then the Wild Hunt will take you away from me.”

Talia flicked her fingers. “Who knows? Maybe with Zestan gone, whatever hold she has over them will dissolve, and they’ll simply move on.”

“You don’t believe that.”

Talia said nothing. Faziya would only see through the lie.

“Are you coming or not?” Roudette shouted.

Talia tucked the knife away and extended her hands. “What will you do now?”

“I’m not sure.” Faziya’s eyes shone, but Kha’iida were taught early not to cry. The body’s water was too precious to waste on tears. She looped the rope around Talia’s wrists. “I spoke to my father.”

“Your father is still alive? You never said—”

“Until Muhazil rescinded my banishment, he couldn’t even acknowledge me as his daughter.” Faziya stepped close, her good arm snaking around Talia’s waist. “Thank you for that.”

Talia closed her eyes, indulging herself just one moment longer. Then Roudette shouted again, and the moment passed. She waited for Faziya to finish tying the rope, then tested her bonds. They were tight, but she should be able to slip free.

“Wait,” Faziya said. “Do you remember what you told me at the docks five years ago?”

Some memories were so clear she could have painted them. “You made me promise to return. Faziya, I can’t—”

“I know.” Faziya stepped around to kiss her. “Give me the lie.”

Talia brushed her fingertips over Faziya’s face. “I promise.”

Without another word, Faziya turned away. Talia started to say more but caught herself. This wasn’t Lorindar, and farewells were for strangers.

 

Talia did her best to maneuver the waterskin with her bound hands. Roudette had also tied a loop of rope around Talia’s neck, no doubt in part to repay her for leashing Roudette back at the mansion. The rope was tight enough to make swallowing uncomfortable, but she managed to take a drink, then handed the skin back to Roudette.

“We’d make faster time if we’d taken the horses,” Talia said.

Roudette gulped down most of the remaining water. Even in the night air, she was sweating beneath her hood. “Horses don’t like me.”

“Do you even remember what it was like to be human?” Talia asked.

“Yes.” Roudette shouldered the waterskin and increased her pace. They had no destination. The only goal was to get as far from the Kha’iida camp as possible. “That’s why I chose to be more.”

“You chose to be a killer. How many people have you murdered?”

“This month?” Roudette glanced at Talia. “I kill fairies. I’d expect you to understand.”

“You kill anyone, for the right price.” Talia raised her arms. “I have the scar from your attempt on Queen Beatrice.”

Roudette smiled. “A glorious fight that was.”

“You would have murdered a good woman.”

“What did you do after my attempt on Beatrice?” Roudette didn’t wait for an answer. “You strengthened your magical protections. You set more guards to watch the walls. You prepared yourselves.
That
is my service. I made you stronger. You would spend your time trying to defend the weak, to help them feel safe in a world poised to devour them. I remind the weak to protect themselves.”

“Is that what your grandmother wanted when she gave you that skin?” Talia asked.

“Grandmother thought like you and your friends,” Roudette said, turning away. “She fought to protect us. As a result, my people lay down like sheep to be butchered by the Wild Hunt. Just as yours will.”

“We’ll see.” Talia flexed her hands, testing the ropes again to see how easily she could escape and reach her weapons, both the iron knife she would use against Zestan and the second, smaller one she had hidden in her robe in case she failed. If her first blade failed to kill Zestan, the second would ensure Talia couldn’t be used against Arathea. The fairy curse wouldn’t work if Talia was dead.

The first sign of the fairies was a distant light, like an oversized yellow firefly—a will-o’-the-wisp. As the light grew closer, Talia realized several of the creatures were flying together.