Bewitched & Betrayed

Chapter 6

Mychael wanted me to stay in the citadel. I had to leave the citadel, and I had a good reason.

Like Piaras, I had lessons.

I was learning how to kill Sarad Nukpana.

And today those lessons would have the added bonus of giving me a much-needed outlet for my growing fear, frustration, and rage. Yes, I could have taken it out on a Guardian in their gym, but that wasn’t the kind of workout I needed. Well, it was, but I required a specialist. No Guardian was a master swordsman with the long, curved blades favored by goblins.

Tamnais Nathrach was.

So was Sarad Nukpana.

Since Nukpana had oozed his way out of the Saghred, I’d made it my goal to not only know every way that Nukpana, his Khrynsani, or any other goblin could possibly come after me, but have a lethal response ready for each and every one of them.

Tam could help. He’d known Sarad Nukpana at the goblin court, and fenced with him on numerous occasions. Not with deadly intent, but when goblin courtiers crossed blades, blood was spilled. Naturally, it was always an unfortunate accident.

Mychael didn’t like it. Not the lethal response part; he didn’t like me being anywhere near Tam. Tam was a dark mage; my connection with the Saghred made me a dark mage magnet. The two of us together with the Saghred wasn’t just trouble for us; it could be trouble for every living creature, period, not to mention civilization, such that it was.

The Saghred didn’t just forge our umi’atsu bond; the rock specifically chose Tam to pair me with.

Tam used to be the chief mage for the royal House of Mal’Salin, the late goblin queen’s magical enforcer, and possibly one of the most powerful dark mages there was. The Saghred didn’t want to use Tam; it wanted Tam to use it. The rock was starving and it wanted souls. And after the escape of those four souls yesterday, it had to be more desperate than ever. There was no way in hell that I was feeding the thing and the Saghred knew it, so it forged an umi’atsu bond between me and Tam. Since I refused to feed it, given enough time and temptation, Tam just might. But that didn’t mean the rock was giving up on me; what happened in that bordello was proof.

Like I said, Mychael didn’t want me near Tam, but he agreed with me learning to defend myself in every way Sarad Nukpana could possibly attack me. He had just one condition; actually it was more like two dozen conditions.

I was on horseback, riding to Tam’s nightclub, surrounded by at least two dozen mounted and absurdly well-armed Guardians. Needless to say, anyone we met gave us a wide berth. It was late afternoon, and the sun was starting to go down behind some of the Conclave’s government buildings, throwing most of the city streets into shadow.

I’d sent word ahead to Tam that what had happened with the Reapers wasn’t keeping me from my lesson, so the front doors were unlocked and unwarded. The main floor of the theatre was usually filled with small tables covered in crisp white cloths, each with two or four chairs. The second-floor dining suites were like private boxes in a fine theatre. Columns stretched from the floor to the high, vaulted ceiling, carved with mermaids and mermen—sirens that could sing men or women to their doom—or somewhere much more enjoyable.

Today the tables were bare of cloths and most of them were stacked against the far walls, leaving the center of the floor clear and open. Officially Sirens was closed for renovation. In reality, Tam had closed the club until the present situation had been dealt with. Tam had a lot of potentially fatal “situations” other than being in an umi’atsu bond with me and Mychael, and he didn’t want running a nightclub to distract him from staying alive, nor did he want some of his clients being killed because they had the poor timing to walk between Tam and someone bent on killing him.

Tam was waiting for me. He was wearing sleek, dark fencing clothes with his black hair pulled back in a long goblin battle braid. His strong hands were bare, and a pair of steel-mesh dueling goggles dangled from his long fingers.

Like most goblins, Tam was tall and leanly muscled, and as I’d experienced on more than one occasion, Tam was also lightning quick. His pale gray skin set off what was a goblin’s most distinctive feature—a pair of fangs that weren’t for decorative use only. A goblin wouldn’t hesitate to use them if a fight turned dirty. Tam wouldn’t hesitate to use them if I got within nibbling range.

Tam’s black eyes gleamed in the club’s dim lighting, lighting he wasn’t going to turn up for our lesson. Sarad Nukpana’s goblin eyes were at their best in this kind of light. Either I learned to adapt or I learned to be dead.

A table near the wall held an array of bladed goblin weapons. Chances were any fighting I’d be doing would be with magic, but I wanted to be prepared for anything. I’d always considered myself a good fencer; and when the situation called for it, I wasn’t squeamish about killing. If it came down to me or them, it sure as hell wasn’t going to be me. Survival was a powerful motivator.

Vegard and four other Guardians arranged themselves around the room. The rest remained outside to stand guard.

Tam stood in the center of the dueling circle and made no move to come toward me. “You should be resting.”

“I slept for nearly ten hours and stayed in my room for most of the day.” I thought I wouldn’t mention that “my room” had in fact been Mychael’s bedroom. “I’ve had enough rest. I can’t afford to be stiff or slow.”

“You can’t afford to be hurt again.”

“Too late for that. Sarad Nukpana isn’t going to cut me any slack, so neither am I. That means neither are you. Tam, you know it as well as I do—either I’m deadly or I’m dead.”

Tam tossed me a pair of goggles identical to his own. I was good, Tam was better, and our practice blades weren’t killing sharp, but accidents happened. To risk losing an eye in a practice session was just plain stupid. And it’d be careless after what’d happened with the Reapers for me not to warm up first. Even with all the healing Mychael had done, my muscles were still stiff and sore. Tam waited patiently as I stretched out. He’d probably already stretched. Though who was I kidding? Tam and jungle cats—they didn’t stretch; they just attacked.

I sat on the floor and started stretching. Tam pulled a chair close to me and sat, his elbows resting on spread knees, his hands clasped loosely in front of him. I groaned silently. I knew what that meant.

Tam wanted to talk. Tam never wanted to talk. He was manipulative, secretive, and you couldn’t get a straight answer even if you could choke it out of him, but when Tam wanted to know something, he was relentless.

I didn’t need our umi’atsu bond to know what he wanted to talk about. With the closeness of our bond, he probably knew everything that had happened to me. I was about to find out how much “everything” included.

“You nearly died,” he said quietly.

“What, no small talk first?”

“Reapers are nothing to joke about.”

I stopped stretching and looked up at him. “Tam, if joking keeps me from screaming and curling up in a corner, then I’m going to keep it up. If I joke or think about it as little as I have to, I might not need a padded room.”

“Understood. But you shouldn’t have attacked them.”

I flexed my foot back, stretching my calf, and pain shot up my leg. I winced, and stretched it again, slower. “Yeah, my hindsight works real good. It’s seeing into the future that I can’t do.” I lowered my voice. Vegard was the only Guardian in the room who knew my dad’s identity. “I didn’t know he could defend himself against those things. He’s my dad, Tam. I’m not going to lose him.”

Tam was silent. He knew all about losing people he loved. He’d been married while at the goblin court. His wife had been a duchess, making Tam a duke by marriage, a title he retained after her death—murder, actually. Tam blamed it on his ambition; her family blamed it on Tam.

“You don’t want to lose your father,” Tam said quietly. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Tam wasn’t just talking about a Reaper sucking my soul out.

Until the Saghred was a pile of dust, the rock and I were a package deal. Wanting me would get Tam killed; the Saghred would get him damned. I was determined that neither one was going to happen.

Tam was a dark mage. I knew what that meant, and none of it was good. For a dark mage, power was an addiction, and the more power they got, the more they wanted—and the more they were willing to do to get it.

Like use objects of power such as the Saghred. I’d been resisting its temptations ever since it latched onto me. A dark mage wouldn’t have resisted. I’d always told myself that whatever Tam had done while in the goblin court, he’d done it to survive. Maybe. When Tam left the goblin court, he’d gotten help for his addiction. Call it what you will—intervention, black-magic rehab—Tam had fought his way back from the brink. I wasn’t going to be the cause of his relapse.

I stood up. “Then let’s work on making Mid a safer place for everyone.”

Tam moved the chair out of the dueling circle. I put on the goggles and pulled on a pair of padded leather fencing gloves. I drew my swords and exchanged them for the pair of practice blades Tam had laid out on a table for me.

“What are we working on today?” I asked him.

Tam pulled his goggles down. “The same thing we worked on last time.”

“What? I didn’t get it right?”

“You got it right twice.” He put on his fencing gloves. “You need to get it right on instinct, not thought. Last time I could still sense you thinking—and if I could sense it, Sarad will, too.”

I swore softly.

“That’s why we’re only working on four moves,” Tam reminded me. “You don’t have time to perfect any more. You’ve got the first three down, one more to go.”

Since I knew my way around a blade and was good at adapting my fighting style to my opponent, Tam was teaching me four down-and-dirty moves using goblin blades. Really dirty moves. Moves that I could throw into a fight and if I was quick enough and lucky enough—and if Sarad Nukpana was solid enough—I just might get to skewer the goblin.

That moment would be a dream come true.

Goblin swords were both stabbing and slashing weapons. Goblins used two blades as naturally as breathing, like extensions of their arms. They were taught from an early age. Elf children played with building blocks; goblins learned to spin blades.

Tam stood facing me, his hands by his side, his blades angled toward the floor. He looked relaxed. I knew better. When Tam had swords in his hands, relaxed meant ready.

In our lessons, Tam always made the first move.

Change is good. Dirty is better.

I sauntered toward him like I was just getting into position to go on guard. Then I lunged, my blades dropped to block his, and my heel came down hard on his instep. Tam hissed and I pivoted sharply to the right, intending to pommel strike his ribs and dart the hell out of range.

Darting didn’t happen. Neither did the pommel strike.

Tam’s leather-clad arms pinned my arms—and swords—to my sides. His blades were up and crossed entirely too close to my face for any kind of comfort.

So much for striking and darting.

“Well, shit,” I said mildly. “That could have worked better.”

“My foot thinks it worked quite well.” I heard the pained grimace in his voice. “Nicely done.” Leather creaked as his arms tightened around me, and his voice lowered to a teasing purr. “The rest of me agrees. This is more than pleasant. Now, how do you propose to get away from me?”

“What?”

Vegard was here, so I knew Tam wouldn’t actually try anything, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t play with me like a mouse.

Sarad Nukpana would do the same thing.

Tam was right. He couldn’t let me go.

“You chose the game, darling. I didn’t.” His lips were near the tip of my ear. “Escape from me, and feel free to do whatever you have to—” He froze, then inhaled, taking my scent. “Mychael.”

My heart did a double thump. Goblins had a predator’s sense of smell. “Mychael what?”

“I can smell him on you.” Tam inhaled again, deeper. “All over you.”

I sighed. I’d really wanted to avoid this. “You said it yourself, those Reapers almost killed me. Mychael healed me. If he hadn’t, I wouldn’t be alive and standing here for you to sniff.”

Tam was silent for a few moments. “Mychael told me that your injuries were quite extensive—covering nearly your entire body.”

“So was the healing he had to do.”

“I’m familiar with the process.” Tam’s voice was flat and emotionless. “How long?”

I wasn’t going to lie to him. “Ten hours. Seven for healing, three for sleep.”

“In bed.” He paused. “Together. And bare skin works best.”

“Yes,” I said simply. “Tam, I—”

“Mychael did what he had to do.” Tam’s warm breath exhaled against my ear. “I am grateful for his talent—and that he was there when you needed him.”

Those were his words. With goblins, it was the meaning behind the words that you had to listen for. Tam knew what Mychael had done—and now he knew exactly how he’d done it. While that knowledge had probably bumped Tam’s alpha male possessiveness up a few notches, at the same time he was sincerely grateful that Mychael had been able to save my life, and was all too aware that he wouldn’t have been able to do the same.

Tam also knew about the magical bond that only Mychael and I shared—a bond that was drawing us closer every day. Though I didn’t know anymore how much of our closeness was the bond and how much was our own growing attraction to each other.

I swore silently. Now Tam was jealous, had a wounded ego, and a stomped foot. Earlier, I’d almost made Vegard cry. I was just spreading cheer all over the place today.

“Mychael did his job, and he did it well.” Tam’s voice was all business. “Now I’m going to do mine equally well. Teach you how to kill a goblin.”

He loosened his hold on me.

“No, no,” I told him.

“Excuse me?” Tam asked, genuinely confused.

“You’re right. I got myself into this; I have to get myself out. Sarad Nukpana wouldn’t let me go, so you shouldn’t, either. Though what I’d do to Nukpana wouldn’t exactly work on you.”

“And what would that be?”

“You’re a little taller than he is. My head fits under your chin with about an inch to spare. Though if I jumped up hard enough, I might get the same results.”

Tam grinned. “A head butt.”

“Nukpana’s the perfect height for me. Let my head sag forward a little in defeat, then snap it back under his chin and knock out some of the bastard’s teeth.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, I’d enjoy it, too.”

Tam snuggled closer. “What would you do next?” he whispered.

Goblins. What other race got excited talking about in-fighting?

“Once he let me go to catch the teeth falling out of his mouth, I’d stab or slit whatever I could reach. I don’t think I’d be picky at that point.”

While we’d talked, Tam had loosened his hold on me ever so slightly. It might be enough. Only one way to find out.

“Sarad Nukpana’s not the one holding you now,” Tam said on the barest breath. “I am. So what are you going to—”

I threw my head back as a diversion, then drove my elbow hard into his stomach. After a gratifying “oof” from Tam, I twisted sharply and drove my other elbow into his ribs. I was rewarded with a pained hiss and freedom.

I got the hell out of range and got my blades on guard, balancing on the balls of my feet, ready to move wherever Tam didn’t. Sometimes winning a fight just meant surviving.

Tam didn’t come after me. He just stood there, his right arm cradling his ribs. I wasn’t buying the wounded bird routine. I hadn’t hit him that hard.

Tam blew his breath in and out, wincing with every inhale. Okay, maybe he wasn’t faking it.

“You okay?”

“You bumped a rib I’ve had broken a couple of times.”

Bumped?

“That was damned near my best shot and you call it a bump?” I felt a sudden urge to hit him again, harder this time.

Tam breathed in and hissed the air out. “It never healed quite right.” He slowly stood straight. “I’m fine.”

“Which rib?”

One side of Tam’s mouth curved up in a smile. “What, so you can hit me again?”

“So I know what to avoid, you idiot. I’m not the only one Nukpana is after, so I’m not the only one who doesn’t need to get hurt.”

“Second rib, obviously the left side.”

“Injury noted. I’ll avoid it next time.”

Tam spun his blades with graceful and deadly efficiency, then flashed a grin full of fang. “Who says I’m going to let you have a next time?”

He circled off to the left, faster and smoother than any mortal creature had a right to move. I moved with him, keeping as much distance between us as possible. Tam lunged, both blades extended, his long legs damned near giving him the reach he needed to skewer me. I parried sharply, pivoted off, and kept moving, quicker now. Tam could circle and feint all day. Sarad Nukpana would do it as long as it was fun, and when he was ready, he’d move in for the kill.

“Raine, you’ve got two Khrynsani guards coming with more on the way.” Tam’s voice was sharp, commanding. It was his fencing master’s voice; it was also the voice telling me move my ass, do something, and stay alive. There weren’t really any bloodthirsty Khrynsani closing in on me, blades drawn for the kill, but Tam wanted me ready for any scenario. At least it was only two this time; last time he’d made it four.

Tam’s words were a staccato bark. “Stop running! Fight!”

He was right. I was running, but not from him.

I was running from Sarad Nukpana, from the inevitable. I would meet him, and if I didn’t kill him, he would do worse than kill me. I didn’t want to get anywhere near the crazed son of a bitch. He scared me. Hell, he didn’t just scare me. He terrified me. I didn’t just want to run. I wanted to run and hide. The goblin was turning himself into a monster, a monster whose only goal was to consume me and all that I was.

After he killed everyone that I loved.

After he killed them slowly, reveling in their agony, murdering them in the most hideous way I had ever seen.

I saw a dried corpse on a slab, but it wasn’t General Aratus, not this time. The image was so clear, too real, the stench of dried flesh too cloying. The slender body lying on that slab wore the pale gray uniform of a Guardian cadet; the face was—

A scream built in my throat, rage fighting for a voice, desperate for release.

“Kill him!” roared a voice I only vaguely recognized as Tam. Then it twisted, the words a phantom echo in my head, taunting, silken smooth, daring me to kill him, laughing that I had already failed.

I had failed to kill him before he killed Piaras.

I screamed and attacked the black-clad goblin in front of me, my blades a blur before my eyes, my movements sheer instinct, my swords extensions of my rage. He fought me, but I forced him back, kicking a chair out of my way, then another, any obstacle that kept me from reaching and killing.

And ending my terror.

I was on the floor, on top of Tam, the full edge of my blade against his throat, one hand on the grip, the other flat against the blade, ready to shove the steel home through his throat.

I drew a sharp breath, horror choking me. I opened both hands and dropped the blade. It fell against Tam’s neck. He left it there, his hands closing around mine, holding, comforting.

Only then was I aware of Vegard’s hand firmly gripping the back of my doublet at the neck, pulling me back.

“Steady, Raine,” Tam said. “It’s all right. Breathe. There you go, love. Just breathe.”

When I did, Vegard released me. I sat back, breathing heavily.

“Ma’am, are you all right?” Vegard’s voice was low and professional, a Guardian’s voice, a Guardian who’d just stopped a killing.

I nodded. My mouth was dry, my throat raw. I dimly remembered screaming like a crazy woman.

“Did I scream?” I rasped.

“Yes, you did,” Tam said. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have pushed you like that, not after what those Reapers did to you.”

I laughed, dry and hollow. My throat felt like it was on fire. “You’re sorry?” The laugh turned into a cough. “I almost—”

Tam’s now-gloveless hands were smoothly rubbing up and down my arms, soothing, calming. “Almost doesn’t count in a sword fight. Don’t worry about it.”

“That’s easy for you to say; you’re not the one who went nuts.”

“You didn’t go ‘nuts.’ You tapped your rage is what you did. Cold, hard rage.”

“It’s okay, ma’am,” Vegard told me. “It happens.”

“What the hell do you mean, ‘it happens’?”

Vegard sheathed his sword. I hadn’t even realized he’d had it in his hand. I closed my eyes and forced down a shudder. I’d even scared Vegard.

“My people call it berserker, ma’am,” he was saying. “And if you ask me, it’s what you’re going to need.”

“I’m sorry,” I told them both.

Tam sat up and put his arms around my waist, pulling me close. “For what—coming after me like a berserker? Rage is your friend, as long as you keep it controlled. Focus your anger.”

“Lose control, lose life.”

“Precisely. Sarad Nukpana is counting on you to hesitate if you ever get a blade to his throat, or in the Saghred’s crosshairs. He knows you’re not a killer; but this once, for him you have to be. You have no choice.” His black eyes were hard, his expression grim. It was the game face of the goblin queen’s enforcer. “Raine, if you hesitate, you’re worse than dead and you know it. If you’re sitting on Sarad Nukpana’s chest with your blade to his throat—finish him. No hesitation, no mercy.”

I took a shaky breath and slowly let it out. “No Nukpana.”

Tam nodded in approval. “Exactly.”

It would be self-defense, but it would also be murder of the cold-blooded variety.

“You don’t have to like it, Raine,” Tam said, picking up my thoughts. “You just have to do it. And it’s not murder; it’s extermination. Nukpana isn’t going to give you the gift of time.”

“He prefers corpses.” And I didn’t want the next one to be Piaras.

Or Mychael.

Or Tam.

“I will be fine,” he assured me, his voice a bare whisper. “Sarad couldn’t take me when he was in his full power. He’s still a specter, almost a ghost.” Tam’s dark eyes glittered with anticipation. “My plan is to make that arrangement permanent.”

I tried to get up, but my knees had other ideas. Vegard was there to help. As always.

“Thank you.”

A little smile curled his lips. “Always glad to help a fellow warrior, ma’am.” There was quiet pride in his voice.

I gave him as much of a smile as I was able. “I like your plan,” I told Tam. “Mychael’s plan is to lock me up in the citadel. I refuse to sit in a warded and guarded room like some kind of crown jewel while Sarad Nukpana picks off the people I care for.” I paused uncomfortably. “Mychael and Piaras are in the citadel . . . and you’re here. I don’t like it, Tam.”

Tam stood, his grin wicked. “So you want me and my crown jewels in the citadel with you?” His grin faded. “I’m not alone, Raine, and I am certainly not defenseless. I am prepared for many forms of attack—as I always have been. I can take care of myself and my son.”

Tam’s son, Talon, was the result of a relationship Tam once had with an elven woman. That made Talon a half- breed, which in the opinion of the goblin aristocracy made him an abomination. Tam had rubbed their collective nose in it by publicly acknowledging Talon as his son and heir.

“Where is he?” I asked.

“In his rooms. And yes, I’m sure he’s there and is going to stay there,” Tam said in response to the question I was about to ask. “He was just escorted back from his spellsinging lesson. He has homework, which he’d better be working on right now.”

Instead of trying to sneak out a window for an early date.

Tam pulled out a chair for me, and I straddled it, resting my arms across the back. Tam tossed me a towel from behind the bar, then pulled a chair opposite me and sat down, leisurely stretching his long legs out in front of him and crossing his ankles.

His black eyes gleamed. “I found the coach Sarad Nukpana used last night.”

Apparently Tam had already dismissed the fact that I’d almost separated his head from the rest of him. I knew I couldn’t. I’d be replaying it in my nightmares. I’d just add it to the growing list of nightmare fodder. For now, if Tam wanted to ignore it, I could, too.

“And when were you going to tell me about the coach?”

“I’m telling you now,” Tam said. “I told Mychael earlier.”

“Well, where is it?”

“A town house on Park Street. It’s a rental property. A robe maker has a shop on the first floor and lives on the second; the third floor is being used by a bookseller for extra storage.”

“And it has a carriage house.”

“It does, and inside is a very nice black coach, covered in tarps, of course.”

“What about the horses?”

Tam shook his head. “Just the coach. In his present state, Nukpana would have to have at least one person working for him. Likely it was that person who hired the horses from a nearby stable—and there are at least six stables within acceptable distance. Black horses are common here, Raine. Conclave mages looking to impress their peers on a night on the town would want a matched set.”

Or Sarad Nukpana wanting to scare the crap out of me.

“The town house is one of four in the city owned by the Ghalfari family,” Tam said.

“Goblins?”

“Even better. Sarad Nukpana’s family on his mother’s side.”

I spat a laugh. “That thing has a mother? Let me guess, she says he’s really just a nice goblin boy who wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Actually, she’s quite proud of him.”

“Figures. And you found which house he was using by process of elimination?”

“That and proximity to one of his hideouts.”

I couldn’t believe what I just heard. “You know where he is? And you didn’t tell us?”

“I know where he was. He hasn’t been there in over a week.”

“And Mychael knows this, too.” I didn’t ask it as a question; I knew the answer only too well. Mychael knew, I didn’t, and he had probably wanted it to stay that way. Mychael and I were going to have a talk.

“Mychael knows. However, Nukpana was no longer there and it was obvious to me that he had no intention of coming back. Mychael stepped up Guardian patrols in that neighborhood. The city watch has the next few streets under surveillance. Sarad is fond of taunting us, but he has come too far to take needless risks.”

“How about the other three houses?”

“They’re all occupied. Rented, like the first.”

“One of those occupants could be hiding him. Or he could be living in the attic or a cellar.”

“He could be, but he’s not. One is being rented by an elven family whose daughter is enrolled in the college, the second by a pair of human mages, and the third is the home of a college fraternity.”

I tried to picture Sarad Nukpana haunting a frat house. “That doesn’t mean that he’s not there.”

“My men and I have checked each house.”

“No Nukpana.”

“Not a trace.”

I wanted to believe that they had missed something, but Tam’s men were dark mages, trusted colleagues from Tam’s days in the goblin court—or as close to trusted as you could get in the goblin court. If they said Sarad Nukpana wasn’t there, then he wasn’t there.

“Tam, I need to lay hands on that coach.”

He knew I meant that literally. “Absolutely not.”

“You said Nukpana hid it well, so it’s unlikely he thought anyone was going to find it. If he used that coach to kidnap General Aratus, there’s going to be psychic residue all over it; and the more violent the kidnapping, the stronger those images will be. Yes, it’d be great if I could get enough from that coach to track Nukpana, but it might be just as productive if I could find his accomplice.”

Tam didn’t say a word; he just looked at me. You know the look, the one that said shaved ices would be served in the lower hells before he’d let me get within five blocks of that coach.

“Tam, you said someone had to hire horses for that coach. That same living, breathing, solid someone tossed the general’s body at my feet. Nukpana’s not fully corporeal yet; he needs mortal, flesh-and-blood help, and his helper was in that coach. If I can get in there, I can get his scent, and I can find him.”

The stubborn set of Tam’s jaw told me he knew I was right. Tam hated it when that happened.

“When did you find the coach?” I tried to keep my eagerness from showing. Tam knew I’d already sunk my teeth into this one. His sigh confirmed it.

“Just before dawn this morning.”

“Did anyone see you?”

Tam gave me another look; you know that one, too.

I raised my hands. “Sorry. Of course no one saw you.”

“Momentary lapse accepted.”

“So you found all this out—the coach, houses, horses—in less than a day?”

Tam smiled. “You’re not the only one who can find things people want to keep hidden.”

“I never said I was.” I stood. “Now, where is that coach?”

“Being watched.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“I know precisely what you mean, and I’m not telling you where it is. It’s too close to dark to risk you going anywhere near there. Nukpana may be planning to use that coach again tonight.”

“Yeah, and we can’t let him.”

“And we won’t. Three of my men are watching the carriage house. If Nukpana shows, two will follow him; one will report back to me.”

I opened my mouth to protest, and Tam held up a hand. “Yes, Mychael does know; and yes, he has provided backup for my men. If Nukpana or his accomplice comes for that coach, he or they will be stopped. And if we’re lucky, we can end this tonight.”

Lady Luck had stopped speaking to me; I hoped she was on better terms with Tam. Women liked Tam.

Tam’s lips turned into a firm line. “If we don’t, Sarad may soon have all the help he needs to regenerate himself, highly qualified help. The best nachtmagus in the goblin court arrived late yesterday on a ship from Regor, sent by Sathrik himself. He went directly to the goblin embassy.”

King Sathrik Mal’Salin. Goblin king, Nukpana’s boss, mildly psychotic, extremely murderous. But then, this was the goblin royal family; crazy was in their blood. Aside from getting Sarad Nukpana back, he wanted to get his hands on me and the Saghred. When Nukpana failed to deliver me, Sathrik set his royal lawyers on me. As far as I knew, they were still slithering their way through Mid’s legal system.

“Would Sarad Nukpana trust this nachtmagus?”

“Probably,” Tam said. “It’s his uncle on his mother’s side—Janos Ghalfari.”

“Damn.”

“Trust me, something stronger would be infinitely more appropriate. I’ve seen Janos at work. There’s nothing he hasn’t done, or at least tried; and if he liked it, he did it again. And when he stepped off of that goblin ship, he had Khrynsani temple guards with him.”

“Do you think Sarad Nukpana might have gone to the embassy?”

Tam shook his head. “Not a chance. Until he’s fully regenerated, he’s vulnerable. Rudra Muralin is still goblin ambassador, and both would like nothing more than to see the other dead. No, Nukpana wants and needs privacy right now. He cannot—”

The door opened and a Guardian stepped inside. “There is a lady here to see you. Imala Kalis. She said that you’re probably expecting her.”

Tam snarled a curse in Goblin under his breath.

Vegard laid a hand casually on the pommel of his sword. “If she’s trouble, I can tell her to go away.”

“She’s most definitely trouble, but no one has ever successfully made her leave.”

Vegard grinned in a flash of teeth. “She’s never been persuaded by a Guardian.”

Tam’s laugh was a short bark. “And you’ve never met the head of the goblin secret service.”