The Devil Incarnate (The Devil of Ponong series #2) (30 page)

“How did he know to tell you?”

“I wondered that myself. It means he knows I worked for the
Devil when he hired me.”

“Hmm.” That would be
something to puzzle over later. She had priorities. “I wanted to speak to
Grandfather Zul tonight anyway, so I suppose I should answer this rude summons,
although I’d hate for him to think he can snap his fingers and make me jump.
Still, my pride is the least of our concerns, isn’t it?”

He swallowed hard. The sharp lump in his throat wouldn’t be
moved. “Grandmother, forgive me. I understand if this means an end to our
friendship, but Grandfather Zul also ordered me to bring you to my farwriter,
on pain of death.”

She staggered back a single step, but that was enough. Her face
was unreadable. At such times, he feared her most. While he’d searched for her,
he’d thought about leaving his betrayal out of it. Even when he found QuiTai,
the temptation to hide the truth had been overwhelming. He saw what she’d done
to Petrof. He’d seen the bloody remains of the werewolves in the marketplace.
He couldn’t have explained what changed his mind.

“You always said I could sell my information to anyone as
long as I gave it to you first.” His excuses sounded weak even to him. LiHoun
shuffled to the door. “I’m going. In case I was followed, I don’t want them to
know I found you, so I will go to several other random places about town. If
you’re going to kill me, at least let me perform this one last service.
Tomorrow is as good a day to die as any.”

She blinked. He
could tell she was furious. He knew before she even spoke that her voice would
be quiet and that each word would be enunciated with great care lest he
misinterpret her message.

“Don’t let
Grandfather Zul know you confessed to me.”

He shook his head.
“I won’t.”

“We will speak of
this later. I have business to attend to right now.”

“I think Grandfather
Zul knows you’re the Devil. I didn’t tell him.”

“Later, LiHoun.” Her
voice was terse.

 
He bowed with great reverence. “Be
careful, grandmother. This town is full of treachery and spies.”

“You too, uncle. Don’t lead them on too merry of a chase.
After all, they might not exist, and I’d hate for you to fall ill.”

He wasn’t sure if that was a threat. In a way, it made him
feel better. If she decided to forgive him, there would be no more secrets. If
she didn’t, he’d bought his own death with Zul coin.

~ ~ ~

As soon as LiHoun was gone, QuiTai ran to her wardrobe. She
cursed her Thampurian clothes. Even though she’d given up on the corset and a
few of the underskirts, there were still so many layers. She unbraided her
hair, combed her fingers through it, and gathered it into a bun. Her hands
shook as she jabbed pins to hold it into place.

She winced as she thought of LiHoun’s betrayal. It pained
her almost as deeply as Jezereet’s death. He’d called her daughter. She wiped
away an angry tear. There was no time for such nonsense.

On her hands and
knees, she dug through the dusty boxes hidden in the false bottom of the
wardrobe until she found one she hadn’t used for a long time. It didn’t matter
that the wig inside was messy. After five minutes in the rain, it would simply
look like wet, bedraggled hair.

She took a length of white silk and bound her chest tightly.
Unlike the Thampurian corsets, which emphasized her assets, this breath-taking
constriction flattened her chest. She pulled a shirt over the binding and
raised her arms to make sure she could move. She hoped she wouldn’t have to
climb tonight.

LiHoun. She closed her eyes. Of course she’d told him to
sell his information wherever he wanted to. She heard it first, and if she
wanted to keep it secret, she paid him more. It was a simple arrangement, much
as when he’d run errands for her back when she worked in PhaJut’s brothel. He’d
never been her employee. He’d always been strictly for hire. But what had he
told Grandfather Zul about her? Why did Grandfather Zul even know her name?

Her fury focused unfairly on Lizzriat. Another Zul spy.

But hadn’t she always warned everyone in the Devil’s syndicate
that the town was full of spies? Why was she suddenly angry about it? She was
fair game, like anyone else. After all, she was the face of the Devil.

LiHoun and Lizzriat. No doubt there were a few other spies
desperately searching for her right now. It was a beautiful move, she had to
admit. Grandfather Zul had turned the ground beneath her feet to quicksand at a
crucial moment. Knowing it was part of his plan didn’t stop the fog of rage and
uncertainty growing in her gut, because this could only be the beginning. She
had no idea where the next blow would land. All she knew was that she had to
let them come as they may and not waste time trying to protect herself. She had
to focus. Anger wasn’t useful. Neither was moping around like a scorned lover.
The past was past and the future was unfolding before her. If she didn’t hurry,
it would spin out of her control. Tomorrow was the third day. Time was up,
unless she could stop it.

Still fuming, she turned her attention back to the wardrobe.

The sarong she picked was well-worn. The pattern was classic
Pha-style batik, a touch that most Thampurians wouldn’t consciously notice, but
the brown, tan, and orange design seemed more masculine. She reached for the
back hem, pulled it between her legs, and pinned it at her waist. The billowing
gathered sides would disguise the feminine shape of her thighs, but she
couldn’t do much about her calves now that they were exposed.

After slipping into plain sandals, she turned and twisted in
front of the small mirror inside the wardrobe door. Nothing was out of place.
She stopped and faced the mirror.

Teenage boy, she thought. I’m a teenage boy. Her posture
subtly shifted. As soon as she saw an awkward mix of cockiness and
self-consciousness, she grinned at her reflection. It, too, said teenage boy.

She covered the
jellylantern and went to the window. She saw no one in the alleyway. She
climbed onto the sill and dropped down into the mud and weeds that choked the
narrow lane. A flock of jungle fowl grumbled as she walked past their perch
under the thick leaves of a low plant, but they were the only ones who noticed
her turn into the next alleyway.

~ ~ ~

QuiTai raised her
hand to knock on the door, but hesitated. Perhaps this wasn’t a good idea. She
knocked anyway.

She heard the groan
of bed springs and decisive footsteps across the floor. Before she could dart
down the stairs, the door opened.

Kyam took a second
to recognize her.

“Are you alone?” she
asked.

He nodded and backed
away from the door so she could enter. After he shut the door and locked it, he
turned to her. “LiHoun gave you my message?”

She shook her head.
If she’d known, she wouldn’t have come here. It only made it worse to see him
again.

“I’ve decided to
take a smuggler’s ship. Can you arrange it for me?” Kyam asked.

Maybe this is what
it felt like when LiHoun betrayed her. She never expected it would feel as bad
from this side, as if her heart were brittle glass fracturing under the
lightest touch.

“What’s wrong?
QuiTai.” Her name was a sigh on his lips. She couldn’t bear it.

Kyam tried to hug her.

She wanted to close her eyes and rest her head on his chest.
She wanted a lot of things she could never have. She stepped back. Maybe there
was a way out of this. Maybe this was the story with the happy ending –
evil vanquished and good rewarded – but then she remembered that to most
people, she was evil.

“I have to talk to Grandfather Zul. Could you unpack your
farwriter and tune it to the right frequency for me?” She didn’t like the way
her voice sounded. It was thick with grief. She wiped the back of her hand
across her mouth, as if that would wipe away the lies she would surely have to
tell.

“You’re shaking.
You’re soaked. Sit down. I’ll make some tea.”

“No, Kyam. The
farwriter. Now. People’s lives depend on it.”

His eyes narrowed.
“What kind of trouble are you in? Is it the Devil?”

She laughed. It
sounded a bit hysterical to her ears.

Why do I care so much about his fate? As
Voorus pointed out, it isn’t exactly a tragedy to become governor.

Why am I making it happen?

Because she knew already that she’d be the one. She’d
foreseen it on the
Golden Barracuda
.
It had seemed funny to her then. Now it was another horrible thing she had to
do.

“Do you want a drink instead of tea?” He was still watching
her with such concern in his eyes.

She shook her head. “I need my wits for this conversation.
I’m sure you know. Talking to Grandfather Zul...”

“Sweetheart, I can set up the farwriter. I can put you on
the right frequency. But he never answers my messages.”

“He’ll answer mine.”

Kyam opened his trunk’s biolock and set the contents in
piles on the floor. He leaned into the trunk to open the farwriter’s hidden
compartment.

QuiTai sank into a chair. She shoved a lock of the wig’s
hair out of her eyes. Water dripped down her back. Misery suited her. No one
should feel comfortable doing what she was about to.

“So, if I may ask, how do you know my grandfather wants to
talk to you?”

“He sent a message to me.”

“He sent a message to you.” Kyam spoke slowly, as if the
words were foreign and he was trying to translate them. “What message?”

“He said he’d kill
the messenger if I didn’t respond.”

Kyam stared at her.

There was never an
easy solution, never a good answer. She could barely meet his gaze.

“I don’t know about
you, but I think I need that drink. Maybe two.” He rose from the floor and went
to his cooking fire.

“You believe me.”

He nodded as he
poured a generous drink into a glass. “I know my grandfather, so yes, I believe
he said that to you, even though it was just an empty threat. I’m curious why
he’s interested in you. What have you been up to since we parted ways on Cay
Rhi, my dear?”

She had to stop
being so afraid. She had to get into the right mindset to face Grandfather Zul.
He might be able to sense her fear, and she didn’t want him to have that edge.
There still might be a way to give him something without giving him everything.

For Kyam, she summoned up a ghost of her usual smile. “Oh,
you know. The usual. No good.”

His smile brightened. He leaned against the cabinet, facing
her, his long legs crossed at the ankles. “That’s my g— Almost forgot.
Must not call you my girl.”

“Kyam, I’d love to banter with you, but there are lives at
stake.”

“So you believe. I guess I am being a poor host.” He set
down his glass and picked up the farwriter.

She bit her bottom
lip as he charged the field battery. What would she say to Grandfather Zul?
‘What the hell do you want, you evil old dirt Thampurian’ probably wasn’t the
right tone to set. ‘You wanted to talk to me?’ could come across as too angry.
‘I’ve looked forward to meeting you’ was almost too ingratiating, like the men
who came backstage after a performance expecting to meet the character, not the
actress. Although that wasn’t too far off the mark. She was playing a part. She
wasn’t scared, worried, and furious QuiTai. He expected the Devil’s Concubine.
No. He expected the woman who became the Devil. She had to step into the role
and play it to the hilt.

Kyam flipped open a book and ran his finger down to a line.
He turned the frequency dials. “Just in case you get any ideas about memorizing
this setting, we change it every day.”

“Sensible.”

He turned to her, his face a picture of exasperation. “Okay,
I’m dying of curiosity. Why the hel— the heck are you suddenly mixed up
with my grandfather? Did I miss something?”

“Where have you been all day?”

“Packing. Why?”

He didn’t know about the rice riots. No wonder he hadn’t
slammed the door in her face.

“Kyam, now that you’ve decided to leave Ponong, are you
going to stop this silly feud with Hadre?”

He shrugged.

“It would make me... You will need... He’s always had your
best interests at heart. He’s the only person you can ever trust to do that.”

“You two have become friends?”

Co-conspirators was closer to the truth, but she was about
to betray Hadre too. He and Kyam could re-bond over their hatred of her.

She pointed to the farwriter. “Is it ready?”

Kyam bowed in the
Thampurian manner with a flourish of his hand toward the machine.

She walked to the
farwriter, still uncertain of what she might say to Grandfather Zul. “This is
horribly rude of me, Kyam, but please leave.”

“I wouldn’t miss
this for the world. You and Grandfather? I’m dying of curiosity.”

“I need to
concentrate.”

Kyam chuckled. “It’s
as if you already know him.”

“I know enough about
him. Really, Kyam, this is important. I have to focus.”

He put a hand on her
shoulder. “You find me distracting?”

She glared at him
until he removed his hand.

“I promise I’ll sit
over here and won’t say a word.” Kyam stretched out on his bed and cupped his
hands behind his head.