Tempt the Devil (The Devil of Ponong series #3)

by Jill Braden

  Voorus got a bad feeling. He pulled Nashruu off the road. “Cuulon must have sent them to make sure you couldn’t contact Grandfather,” he said. It was odd calling a man he’d never met Grandfather, and even odder that he and his lover should share that relation. The Zuls were a strange clan. For years, he’d dreamed of finding his real father. Now he wasn’t so sure he wanted anything to do with that side of his family.

  “You can’t possibly know they’re going to stop us. What if they were simply patrolling the town, met on this bridge, and decided to pause for a bit of gossip?”

  He wasn’t sure how he knew, so explaining it to her wouldn’t be easy. “I just–”

  “Let me at least try to walk past them. I’ve only been in Levapur half a day. Surely they have no idea who I am yet.”

  What was he going to do with her? She didn’t seem to understand that she should be afraid, or at least concerned.

  “Wait–”

  It was too late. He paced a quick circle as he tried to figure out if he should follow her. Women were turning out to be far different from what he’d been told they’d be.

  Hating himself for being a coward, he ducked behind a glossy leaf and peered through a gap on the frilled edge. Nashruu sauntered toward the bridge. The soldiers slowly stood up straight. Her parasol hid her face, but he could read the conversation well enough from her movements.

  She pointed down the lane on the other side of the bridge. The soldiers shook their heads. She tried to walk past them anyway.

  He pushed through the plants as one grabbed her arm.

  She lowered her parasol, snapped it shut, and swung it at the soldier’s legs. After a tight little shake of her shoulders, she walked back toward Voorus, passed him, and then ducked into the thicket beside him.

  “I stand corrected, darling. You were right. They’re very sorry, but they can’t let me pass. Some nonsense about a dangerous snake being seen in the neighborhood. I’m not sure if they meant a Ponongese or an actual snake. There must be another way to the compound other than crossing the bridge.” She picked flowers out of the folds of her parasol and flicked them to the ground.

  “There is, but it’s a long walk around the hills, and that entrance is probably guarded too. Maybe we should simply find another farwriter. I have no idea where, since we’ve been blocked from almost every place I can think of.”

  She placed her hand on his forearm and leaned closer to him with a look of earnest feminine distress. She’d had that same look on her face the first time they’d met, when he’d rescued her little nephew from a tree in the park. She’d seemed so sweet and innocent back then. He gulped when he realized he’d been her prey that whole time. Had she shoved the poor little boy up onto the high limb?

  “If you think that’s the sensible thing to do, then by all means, I bow to your superior understanding of the situation – this time. So where do we find one?” she asked.

  “There are a few places in town with machines, but this is hardly a message you want to send through a clerk.”

  “Would Lady QuiTai have one in the Red Happiness?”

  “It’s illegal for Ponongese to have farwriters.”

  She made a face. “I know that. But that wouldn’t stop her, would it? Her main lieutenant, LiHoun, used to have one, and the Li Islanders aren’t allowed to have them either. Unfortunately, he hasn’t responded to Grandfather’s messages since the rice riot, so we’re not sure if he still has it.”

  Voorus sucked in a breath. “LiHoun was Grandfather Zul’s agent?” Was it possible that QuiTai didn’t know her most trusted lieutenant gave Grandfather Zul information? If she did, why was LiHoun still alive? Then again, Cuulon was still alive, and Turyat still would be too if QuiTai had had any say in the matter.

  Nashruu pursed her lips and shook her head as if angry with herself. “Forget I said that.”

  “You can’t say something like that and then expect me to forget it simply because you want me to.”

  “Sh! Those soldiers are looking this way.”

  The leaf sprang up to slap his face when she let go of it. They skulked through the trees until they were far enough from the bridge that they could risk walking on the road.

  Voorus had to ask the question burbling in his brain. “Were you always this way? You seem so different now.”

  She opened her parasol and took his arm. “I’m not sure I can answer that. I’ve never felt as if I wasn’t me. Then, now, I’m essentially the same. You too. You always look as if you’d rather be anywhere else.”

  He stopped and looked into her eyes. “No.”

  “Come now, you can be honest. I know you hated being a soldier.”

  “That? Yes. But being with you made it tolerable.” He cleared his throat. “I only ever wanted to study the law and live quietly.”

  Her laughter traipsed down a musical scale. “You’re a Zul. You’ll never be allowed to live quietly.” She crushed enticing parts of her body against his arm. “At least we’re on this adventure together. There’s no one else I’d rather crawl through a jungle with.”

  It didn’t matter if she were saying that only to get him to help. He wanted to believe it, so it had to be true. “We should find LiHoun, then. He might still have that farwriter, and if he doesn’t, he might know where to find one.”

  “If he doesn’t, we should try Lizzriat.” She noticed his surprise. “The Ingosolian owner of the Dragon Pearl.”

  “I know who Lizzriat is. I’m surprised you do.”

  “Grandfather keeps me well informed.”

  She strode briskly toward the Red Happiness. With his long legs, Voorus had no problem catching up to her.

  “I’ve always been curious about the Red Happiness. Who would have imagined I’d get to see inside?”

  He gripped her elbow hard enough to bring her to a stop. “I can’t let you go in there. I’m sorry, but as family, I have to protect your name.”

  Her gloved hand covered her mouth as she giggled. “Voorus, my love, I understand what you’re trying to do, but you have exactly two seconds to forget all that nonsense and stop getting in my way, or I will destroy you.” She smiled angelically at him as her eyelashes fluttered. “But if you insist that the Red Happiness is off limits for me, find a way to sneak me past those soldiers and get me to the compound. I desperately need to fetch something from my luggage.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Colonel Hurust’s secretary, Major Rheagus, sighed when he saw Kyam. “I was warned you’d probably come back. You have no authority here, so why don’t you go back to your office and paint some pretty flowers?”

  Kyam wanted to punch him.

  “The King himself has interest in this matter, Major. We have to stop Cuulon before he tortures Lady QuiTai to death.”

  Major Rheagus scratched his ear. “You’re not in charge here.”

  Kyam wanted to grab him by the throat. “Where’s Colonel Hurust?” He might have imagined the look of worry in the major’s eyes, but he decided to press the young man anyway. “I’m not only the Governor; I’m a Colonel in the Intelligence division. Do I need to point out that I outrank you? And before you make any smart remarks about the military not being under the command of Intelligence, you may want to consider my fists.” The blood had washed off as waves had splashed over him while rowing across the harbor, but bruises and an old scar gave his knuckles an aura of lurking violence.

  Major Rheagus’ wide eyes stayed focused on Kyam’s hands as he sank back into his desk chair. “This is our chance to be rid of the Devil’s whore. You should be thanking us for cleaning up the filth up there for you instead of trying to stop us.”

  Kyam took a deep breath. Then another. He leaned close to Major Rheagus and glowered. “It’s possible Cuulon, not Lady QuiTai, murdered Turyat, and I know you wouldn’t dare execute someone for a crime they didn’t commit. But even if you want her to die because she’s Ponongese, let me explain that our king wants her alive. Do you know what the punishment is for def
ying him? They take you out into the salt plains of the Great Malisium Desert and bury you up to your neck in sand.”

  No one had ever done such a thing to a Thampurian. Kyam hoped Major Rheagus didn’t know that.

  The major reached into his sleeves to scratch his arms like a vapor addict craving dream. “Do you have proof that Cuulon is guilty?”

  “The sand in the salt plains is so alkaline that when your sweat mixes with it, you suffer chemical burns. It’s also so dry that it sucks the moisture out of your skin and mummifies you alive. You’ll be delirious in hours, but we’ll make sure you survive for weeks.”

  Major Rheagus grabbed his keys. “I’m taking you to my commander. That’s all you can order me to do.” He rushed out of the office and hurried for the stairs.

  ~ ~ ~

  The four guards at the table appeared confused when Kyam opened the dungeon door. They shrank back from the sunlight.

  The major’s lips pursed. He grabbed a jellylantern hanging from the wall and headed down the stairs.

  Kyam inhaled deeply. He didn’t smell vapor, even though the guards had dreamer’s eyes. The tiles on the table hadn’t changed since his first visit to the dungeon this morning. Frowning, he followed Major Rheagus down the stairs.

  Someone had replaced the jellylanterns in the dungeon since his earlier visit. They didn’t illuminate much, but at least he could see into each of the cells. This was what it had been like when he’d first brought QuiTai to the dungeon this morning. He had a good idea who’d done it, but he couldn’t guess why.

  Major Rheagus led him to a squat wooden door at the far end of the cavernous room. His mouth set into its prissiest clench. “I better not get in trouble for interrupting them.”

  “You can always tell them you were just following orders.”

  “The door is probably locked.”

  Kyam shoved open the door and rushed inside.

  He didn’t dare show his relief. She was alive. He staggered back a step as the rush of emotion overwhelmed him.

  She was alive.

  QuiTai was bound to the torture board by her wrists and ankles. Iron bars crossed her chest and hips. She looked weary, but he didn’t see any blood. He hoped the wicked hooked instrument at her feet had only been used to menace her.

  He’d never forgive her for putting him through this. He shot her a look of pure venom; her most devilish grin spread across her face in triumph.

  Cuulon’s chair fell to the floor when he leapt to his feet. He seemed flustered and a bit embarrassed to be caught not torturing her. “What is the meaning of this, Zul?”

  “Chief Justice Cuulon, you’re under arrest for the murder of Governor Turyat,” Kyam said.

  “What?” The finger crusher clanged loudly when he dropped it on the table. “I didn’t murder anyone. What sort of nonsense is this?”

  QuiTai clicked her tongue in disapproval. “Wrong. Not even close, Governor.”

  “This wasn’t my idea,” Major Rheagus told Cuulon. “I only came down here to find Colonel Hurust.

  “What in the name of infernal darkness is going on here?” Cuulon roared. “She was about to tell me who murdered my friend.”

  “Was I?” She sounded bored.

  Cuulon glared at her. Kyam wasn’t sure who was torturing whom in this room. Cuulon only had things that maimed and tore flesh; she was armed with a far more vicious weapon.

  “I don’t understand what’s going on,” Major Rheagus grumbled. “How does she know who killed Turyat?”

  Her eyes worried Kyam; he’d seen her this exhausted before. She’d been busy since he’d left her. He found the keys to the shackles on the table and grabbed them. “Why do I have a feeling this is all for show?” he whispered to her as he unlocked one at her wrist.

  “Test them. You’ll see they’re all real.” Despite how tired she was, mischief danced through her eyes.

  “Where is Colonel Hurust?” Major Rheagus asked. “He’s supposed to be here.”

  “He was, earlier, but had to go,” QuiTai said. “Thank you, Governor.” She rubbed her wrist and smiled down at Kyam as he squatted to unlock her ankles.

  “What do you mean, ‘Had to go’?” Cuulon asked.

  Kyam stepped in front of QuiTai. “Let’s not lose focus here. Lady QuiTai was accused of murdering Governor Turyat. New information has come to light that will exonerate her.”

  “Such as?” Major Rheagus asked.

  Kyam cast a glance over his shoulder at QuiTai. She seemed amused, and not inclined to help him. He rubbed his hands together. “Well, there’s her alibi.”

  “That’s hardly new information, Zul,” Cuulon snapped.

  “There’s also the fact that she didn’t want Turyat to die. She enjoyed torturing him too much. Which isn’t proper behavior for a lady, but I guess we all know she’s…” Kyam wished she’d rescue him from this humiliating exercise. Her lips trembled as if she’d laugh any second.

  “Zul, why don’t you shut up? She was about to tell me who killed Turyat when you barged in here,” Cuulon said. His neck grew pink above his collar and he twitched like man who chain-smoked kur. “And it wasn’t me!”

  QuiTai pushed away the last metal bar securing her to the board and walked around the room. From the way she moved, her muscles were sore. Kyam was relieved that was the worst of her injuries.

  As if she’d just remembered the men who were waiting anxiously to hear what she might say, she turned around, smiling apologetically. “I’d rather tell you somewhere else, such as in the marketplace.”

  “You don’t leave here unless I’m convinced you’re innocent,” Major Rheagus said. He set the chair upright and plopped into it.

  “It’s quite simple,” QuiTai said. “And deathly dull.”

  Cuulon grabbed her arm. “Stop toying with me!”

  “I thought you liked that.”

  Cuulon’s hand rose. He didn’t hit her, but the threat was obvious. “Tell us who killed Turyat, or so help me, I’ll have the soldiers push you off the ramparts with a rope around your neck, then haul you up before your neck breaks, and do it over and over again until your neck is bruised and you’ve forgotten what it’s like to have air in your lungs.”

  Instead of being scared, as any sane person would be, QuiTai seemed mildly annoyed. “You don’t understand the premise of dramatic tension, do you? Oh, very well. I’ll tell you.”

  “Who?”

  “But first–”

  “Oh, for the love of deep water, just start removing her fingers.” Major Rheagus grabbed the iron tool from the table and lunged across the table.

  She stared him down. “If I’m harmed, I will take the name to my grave.”

  To Kyam’s amazement, Cuulon stepped between Major Rheagus and QuiTai. “Don’t you dare touch her.”

  The major’s mouth dropped open.

  “Tell me. Give me peace from this torment,” Cuulon begged QuiTai. A tear dropped down his cheek.

  QuiTai caressed his face. “There will be no peace with the answer. You’ll be up nights howling at the moon for the unfairness of it. Tears will flow until your eyes are dry as the salt plains of Ravidia. You’ll call down the gods themselves to demand an apology for the stupidity of it all. No rest, no satisfaction, no peace, ever. The absolute waste of Turyat’s death will torment you to your last breath. And I’m more than happy to be the person who unleashes that torment in your heart. But first–”

  Kyam groaned. “Can you have two firsts?”

  She motioned for silence. “I want your promise – Chief Justice Cuulon and Governor Zul – that the murderer will be brought to trial. It won’t be fair, of course, but there must be a trial, with evidence and a legal defense and all the other actors necessary for a farce.”

  Kyam bowed his head as revelations swarmed his brain. He didn’t understand her plan, but the glimpses were astonishing enough. She never played for petty stakes.

  “I don’t understand. If it’s a farce, then why do you want a tr
ial?” Major Rheagus asked.

  “Precedence. She’s setting a precedent,” Kyam said.

  The men stared at him. He smiled sheepishly, because it was embarrassing to show how slow he was compared to her. Then he realized the other men had no idea what he knew. They hadn’t seen and heard everything he had today. They didn’t know what he did. And yet, how superior could he feel when the answer had been screaming in his ear all day and only now he was hearing it?

  “I agree. Do you, Cuulon? Come on,” Kyam said.

  Cuulon made a face then tersely nodded. “Then who murdered Turyat?”

  Kyam couldn’t resist interrupting QuiTai. She had to know that he had, finally, figured it out. “PhaSun did it.”

  QuiTai inclined her head to him. “Very good, Governor,” she murmured.

  “PhaSun? Who is PhaSun?” Major Rheagus asked.

  “A worker at the Red Happiness. A stupid, useless, meaningless sex worker.” Cuulon sagged against the table. “But why? He never hurt her.”

  Kyam paced. “She wanted to frame Inattra for selling black lotus to Turyat, so that QuiTai would make her the Madam. But Inattra had already warned everyone in the Red Happiness not to sell any to her.” It was all coming together. His conviction grew as he talked through it. “So early in the morning – early by Quarter of Delights standards – she crept downstairs to meet Turyat. Having been promised a pipe, he was still lingering on the veranda with that tenacity we’ve all seen in vapor ghouls. After QuiTai left the brothel to go meet the Golden Barracuda at the harbor, PhaSun told Turyat to wait while she went to buy a vial. It was possible that word hadn’t gone beyond the brothel and she’d find a seller. That’s when something went wrong. Maybe he got violent. She struck him and posed a pipe beside his body, and left a lit spirit lamp on the bar for good measure, knowing that QuiTai would return from the harbor shortly. Then the blood began to flow, and she realized she’d hit him too hard. She ran upstairs to hide in her room. She probably changed quickly out of her sarong and blouse, which may have had blood spatter on them–”

  His eyes narrowed. Blood spatter. Earlier this morning, QuiTai had to change clothes because of blood spatter too. Where was Colonel Hurust? Where had all the jellylanterns gone earlier? For that matter, where had the dungeon guards disappeared to, for all those hours when QuiTai was locked in the cell? She’d wanted to be brought to the fortress. She’d wanted to be in the dungeon, where no one would watch her.