When he’d asked Briana about the boy, she’d explained, “It’s common among the Dhukari to seek body servants not from Shalandra. Somewhat of a game, really, to see who can find the most exotic to serve at their command. Having you as my bodyguard will certainly turn heads.”
That’s a bit more of an understatement than I realized, he thought. He stood half a head taller than most of the people in the room, his skin lighter than even Hailen’s. All eyes in the room definitely marked him as they passed through the crowd.
As long as they’re looking at me, they’ll be too busy to notice Aisha.
The Ghandian girl wore an elegant kalasiris of colors far more muted than Briana’s white-and-gold sheath dress. Her face, however, had been layered with cosmetics to lighten her skin and contour her features. With kohl-rimmed eyes, a white-and-gold headband, and four black beauty marks, she could almost pass for an Intaji. Save for her accent, of course—Aisha’s words only revealed a hint of her harsher, clipped Ghandian language, but she couldn’t form her words with the same flowing, musical tone of Shalandrans.
Briana had dressed Aisha to look innocuous, unassuming, but Kodyn knew how dangerous Aisha really was. Though she’d left her assegai in Suroth’s mansion, she could wield the daggers concealed in her elegant sleeves as well as any Serpent. Her face was a mask of calm, but Kodyn knew her well enough to see the wary tension in her eyes, the tightness of her strong shoulders.
He hadn’t sparred with her in months, but given what he’d heard from Errik and Ria, he wasn’t certain which of them would win. Between the two of them, they ought to more than suffice to keep Briana safe here. The journey to the palace had gone without a hitch, but the return trip had him nervous. If someone intended to make a play to abduct Briana again, that would be the time.
But for now, he simply had to focus on playing the role of Briana’s bodyguard while attempting to make contact with the Secret Keeper.
“Point him out when you see him.” Kodyn spoke in a voice pitched for Briana and Aisha’s ears only, low enough to fade into the hum of the party. “The sooner we can get this done, the sooner we can get you home.”
“I know you’re eager to be out of here.” Briana placed a hand on his arm and guided him deeper into the throng of revelers with a dazzling smile. “But some of us actually enjoy this sort of thing. Besides, it’s not every day I get to show off my new companion.”
Kodyn’s brow furrowed at the words. “Wait, I thought I was here as your bodyguard.”
“Please, you think anyone is going to buy that?” Briana laughed, a high and ringing sound filled with delight. “We’ve been here five minutes and already I can see people whispering about just what parts of my body you intend to guard.”
Kodyn blushed, his face burning.
“Let them whisper.” Briana’s smile never faded as she spoke from the corner of her mouth. “Anything to keep them away from figuring out the real reason you’re here, right?”
Kodyn inclined his head. “Fair point.” He straightened and extended his arm in the stiff pose he’d seen among the nobles of Praamis. “In that case, allow me to escort you to the banquet table.”
He caught the slight shake of Aisha’s head as she rolled her eyes at his foppish mannerisms. He brushed it off. If I’m going to play the part, I might as well do it right.
The change in Aisha and Briana’s demeanor hadn’t gone unnoticed. On the road, Aisha had been distant, withdrawn, and polite. He’d returned from his visit to the Black Widow to find the two of them deep in conversation about life in Shalandra and the culture, customs, and etiquette they’d be expected to follow. They’d actually been friendly. Aisha had even become more defensive of Briana, taking her role of bodyguard as seriously as she had her role as a Phoenix guarding the fancy-ticklers and courtesans under the Night Guild’s protection.
He welcomed the change—the three of them would be spending a good deal of time together, so it was good the two women could get along.
Briana seemed to be enjoying her grand return to Shalandra, and she flitted from group to group like a hummingbird darting between daylilies. Kodyn paid little attention to the inane conversations—mostly the latest gossip of the Dhukari—instead focusing on the people they encountered.
The upper caste of Shalandra bore a strong resemblance to the nobles of Praamis. Their conversations, pleasant on the outside, usually concealed verbal weapons as sharp as any sword. He barely caught a fraction of the hidden meanings and subtle innuendoes, but he heard enough to realize the Black Widow hadn’t exaggerated when she’d warned him about the Dhukari. Boom, boom, boom.
The sound rang out through the grand hall, drowning out the trilling music and the hum of conversation. Immediately, everyone went dead silent as the two gold-embossed double doors at the northern side of the vast chamber swung open.
Boom, boom, boom.
Again, this time followed by a loud voice announcing, “Amhoset Nephelcheres, first of his name, Pharus of Shalandra, Guardian of Dawnbreaker, Chosen of Hallar, Word of Justice and Death, and Revered Servant of the Long Keeper.”
All in the room turned toward the opening doors and bowed. Kodyn and Briana did likewise, and as he straightened, he caught sight of the Pharus.
Pharus Amhoset Nephelcheres was a tall man with broad shoulders, features both handsome and strong, and a high forehead, upon which sat the conical crown and golden headdress of his office. Beneath his gold fabric shawl, his golden-skinned chest was well-sculpted, his abdomen surprisingly muscled for a monarch. He stood straight, his posture upright, and carried himself with confidence as he strode through the doors. Two women wearing low-cut sheath dresses clung to his arms, their ample hips swaying as they glided alongside him.
People gave way in front of the Pharus, and a path opened before him. To Kodyn’s surprise, he found the Pharus’ eyes fixed on him—no, on the beautiful young woman on his arm—and the monarch moved straight through the crowd toward them.
“My Pharus.” Briana bowed low again as the Pharus approached.
The man stopped before Briana, close enough that Kodyn could see the thick layers of cosmetics that accented his high cheekbones and deep-set eye sockets, the lines of kohl and malachite ringing his eyes, and the eight black beauty marks painted on his cheeks and chin.
“Young Briana.” Amhoset Nephelcheres inclined his head in greeting. “It does our heart good to see you safely returned to us. Your adoptive father has not been the same these last weeks.” A shadow flashed in his eyes, never touching his face, so quick Kodyn might have missed it had he not been a step away. “You have our welcome on your joyous return.”
“My Pharus does me honor.” Briana bowed a third time.
The Pharus turned to Kodyn. “And is this the brave young man who escorted you?”
Kodyn met the Pharus’ gaze and found himself staring into eyes that glinted with the same sharp intelligence that marked his mother. The Pharus might hold a figurehead’s title, but cunning and ambition burned bright within him.
“We would know your name,” the Pharus said.
“Kodyn…” He didn’t know how to address the ruler of Shalandra—“my Pharus” didn’t feel right—so he settled on “…sire.”
“A strong name.” The Pharus pursed his lips, a perfectly sculpted eyebrow arching upward, though in displeasure, curiosity, or amusement, Kodyn couldn’t tell. “We bid you welcome to our city. You have done us a great service by returning the daughter of our honored Arch-Guardian. The time may come when we will be in a position to repay your bravery.”
How about you give me the Crown? Kodyn thought, struggling to hide a grin. Instead, he bowed and said, “You honor me, sire.”
“Indeed.” Pharus Amhoset gave a little nod to Briana and turned away, his concubines on his arm. As he moved, the crowd swirled around him, until Kodyn, Aisha, and Briana stood in their own little island amidst the people jockeying for the Pharus’ favor.
“Wow!” breathed Briana.
“The Pharus himself welcoming you. What an honor!”
Kodyn nodded, but he didn’t feel particularly honored. In addition to his mother’s skill, determination, and wit, he’d inherited her distrust of nobility and royalty. He’d caught a glimpse of the true Pharus: a man as calculating, cunning, and relentless as any Guild Master.
“Young Lady Briana.” A new voice cut through the crowd. “The Keeper truly smiles on you to bring you safely home after what must have been such a trying ordeal.”
The voice, as unctuous and oily as a merchant peddling forgeries, immediately set Kodyn’s teeth on edge. One glimpse of the man to whom it belonged confirmed his instant dislike.
“Councilor Madani.” Briana smiled, but her tone was as warm as the Frozen Sea. “I’m certain the Long Keeper heeded your prayers for my return.”
Councilor Madani looked to be in his late forties, with a hint of grey around his temples and wrinkles lining his prim lips. His hooked nose and insincere smile gave him the appearance of a vulture circling a dying man, and Kodyn imagined his long, thin fingers were claws ready to sink into Briana’s flesh. He wore all black—from his ornate stole to his black-dyed silk tunic and shendyt to his high-strapped sandals—accented with enough gold to purchase a small kingdom. His belly drooped so low it engulfed the sash that hung around his thick thighs.
Behind him stood four more equally obese men wearing equally rich robes. One looked to be nearly a hundred, though age hadn’t bent his back or stooped his shoulders. The other three were fairly unremarkable, save for the opulence of their clothing and the haughty disdain on their faces. They were the Keeper’s Council, the most powerful men in Shalandra.
A flock of servants and attendants huddled behind them, all clad in the black robes of the Necroseti. They hung on the Councilors’ words and waited patiently to do their bidding.
One man, however, caught Kodyn’s eye. He stood near the rear of the retinue, far from the prestigious positions near the Councilors. His robes were simpler, though still the same gold-trimmed black. But it was his appearance that made him stand out. Short, with a hunched back, bald head, and face twisted by some malady, he stood tilted at an awkward angle, as if his crooked spine threw off his balance. He never lifted his eyes to Kodyn’s, simply kept his gaze fixed on his masters.
“I can only give thanks to our god and his wisdom.” Madani’s devout expression and pious tone grated on Kodyn’s nerves far more than the trilling flute music. “With all the rumors of unrest among the lower castes, I was concerned that you had been taken by someone intending to use you to gain leverage over your adoptive father.”
The man was as brazen as he was smug. Arch-Guardian Suroth had suspected the Necroseti from the onset, and Madani’s words danced along the line of an admission of guilt.
“It is only by the Keeper’s grace that I am safely returned,” Briana said, her face a mask of civility. She gestured to Kodyn. “My father has taken steps to ensure my protection.”
“Ah, yes, the young foreigner.” The Councilor turned dark, kohl-rimmed eyes on Kodyn. “Guard her well, young man. Even a city as beautiful as Shalandra may conceal dangers one so youthful will be unprepared for.”
“I’ll remember that,” Kodyn let a dangerous edge into his words. “I’ve already found a few threats that I fully intend to deal with when the time comes.”
Madani raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips.
Briana interjected before the man spoke. “If you will excuse me, Councilman, I see my adoptive father beckoning me.” She gripped Kodyn’s arm tight and steered him away from the priest.
“Heed my words,” Madani called after them. “I would so hate to hear that something untoward happened to our dear Secret Keeper’s daughter.”
Kodyn allowed himself to be dragged away. He had to wrestle down a near-overwhelming desire to drive his fist into the Councilor’s face—or a sword in his gut.
“Kodyn, that’s Ennolar.” Briana’s voice whispered in his ear. “There, by the banquet table.”
The words shoved the smug Necroseti from Kodyn’s mind. His eyes sought out the man Briana had indicated.
The man was short, shorter even than Briana, and nearly as round, with a perfectly oval-shaped head and hooked nose above a thick-lipped mouth. Beneath his ornamental white headdress, a single lock of braided hair hung down his back and his scalp had been shaved bald and waxed to a bright sheen. He moved with purpose along the table of delicacies laid out along the eastern wall of the grand hall. His brown robes marked him as a Secret Keeper, priest of the Mistress—the man the one the Black Widow had instructed him to seek out.
Kodyn nodded and turned to Aisha with a questioning look.
“Go,” Aisha told him. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”
“Allow me to bring you something to eat, my lady,” Kodyn said in a loud voice.
“Thank you.” Briana gave him a little curtsy, her dazzling smile returning.
Kodyn squeezed Briana’s hand before slipping his arm free of her grip. He strode toward the far end of the banquet table, scooped up a golden platter, and began heaping it high with treats and delicacies—the sort of thing a young girl should enjoy. He continued until he stood beside the Secret Keeper.
“The Black Widow sends her greetings,” he said in a low voice. At the same time, he turned up his hand and uncurled his fingers to reveal the silver spider-faced coin he’d palmed from his pocket.
To Ennolar’s credit, he managed not to stiffen or twitch, but simply turned a silent, questioning glance toward Kodyn.
“She has sent me to collect a map of the…” He didn’t remember the hand signs for Serenii. “…tunnels beneath the city.”
Now surprise cracked Ennolar’s stoic expression. “You know our language?” he signed.
“I am the one who saved Briana.” He met the man’s gaze. “She taught me.”
Ennolar gave a little nod of understanding. “Dare I ask why the Black Widow wants the map?”
Kodyn shrugged. “You can ask her. I’m just the messenger.” He had to spell out the last word—yet another sign he hadn’t yet learned.
After a long, silent moment, Ennolar’s fingers flashed again. “So be it. The Temple of Whispers at noon tomorrow. But not you. Your pale skin makes you stand out. Send someone in your place, someone you trust. Give them that.” He thrust his chin at Kodyn’s right hand, which held the coin. “And tell the Black Widow that this cancels our debt.”
Kodyn nodded. “Noon, then.”
Their exchange ended, Kodyn moved around the Secret Keeper and continued filling Briana’s plate. Finally, once he’d heaped the sweetmeats high enough, he turned away from the table.
Excitement thrummed within him as he strode back toward his comrades. One step closer to getting my hands on the Crown of the Pharus and completing my Undertaking! With the map, he’d know how to get into the palace using the underground Serenii tunnels. There were still a lot of details left to figure out—chief among them, how the hell to get into the Vault of Ancients. Hopefully he could convince Suroth to fill in those gaps.
When the time came—and it seemed to be coming sooner than he’d anticipated—he’d be ready to make his move and prove his worthiness to be a Journeyman of the Night Guild.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
As Aisha steered Briana through the crowd toward her father, she felt the tremor running through the young Shalandran. She squeezed Briana’s arm, a gesture intended to help calm the girl. But when Briana turned toward her, Aisha caught the spark of anger burning bright in the girl’s eye. The interaction with Councilor Madani hadn’t scared her; it left her enraged.
“The smug bastard!” Outrage tinged Briana’s harsh whisper. “You heard him. He all but confessed!”
Aisha nodded. “It proves your father’s theory right. The Necroseti really did plan to take you. Maybe they actually managed it, but somehow the Gatherers got their hands on you. That just means we need to be doubly cautious about keeping you safe
. Maybe we should—”
“If you’re about to recommend that we leave, you’d better rethink that.” Briana rounded on her, eyes flashing. “Madani did that to rattle me, to send me running scared and send a clear message to my father. I may not be a warrior like you and Kodyn, but I’m not some little girl to hide at the first sign of danger.”
Aisha couldn’t help admiring Briana’s spark of defiance, her resilience. She’d known too many others that had crumbled during their enslavement by the Bloody Hand. Only a handful of girls—those that had stayed in Praamis to join House Phoenix—had walked away from the horrors of their captivity stronger in body, mind, and will. Briana hadn’t endured the same things she had, but she recognized a kindred spirit.
Briana’s face was a mask of polite courtesy, but she fairly stomped through the throng toward her father. Arch-Guardian Suroth looked up from his conversation with a Dhukari and a furrow rippled his brow at the sight of his daughter.
“What is the matter?” his hands flashed.
Briana’s fingers moved so quickly Aisha could barely keep up. The angry gestures made the emotions behind the message clear.
The concern in Arch-Guardian Suroth’s eyes turned to white-hot rage. For a moment, as he scanned the crowd, Aisha thought the Secret Keeper would storm off and hunt down his fellow Councilor. Aisha had seen his fighting stance when he first discovered their true purpose for being in Shalandra. He was a dangerous man even with nothing but a crystal goblet in his hand and the fire of fury burning in his chest.
“I will not let his actions go unanswered,” Suroth signed, his face a mask of anger.
“Nor should you,” Briana responded. “But we need to move carefully. You know better than I just how much power the Necroseti wield.”
Suroth scowled. “Accursed priests!”
Briana’s eyes widened. “Father, beware you do not blaspheme yourself. They are the Keeper’s chosen!”
“They are no more chosen than the stone beneath our feet or the wine in our glasses.” His grip tightened around the goblet until Aisha feared the delicate crystal would shatter. “They are but men, regardless of their title.”
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