Eye of Truth

by Lindsay Buroker

  Two guards led the way into the room before Iridium stepped in behind them.

  “Shall we search him, ma’am?” one asked.

  “He’s naked, stupid,” the other said.

  Jev watched them, his head propped on his elbow, and tried to look unthreatening. He didn’t know if Iridium would send them away or have them stay in the room to watch. They were big, burly men with short swords, pistols, and truncheons hanging from their belts.

  “He could be hiding things behind his back. Or under his balls.”

  The men stepped aside as Iridium nudged them out of her way.

  “I’m honored you think my balls are so substantial that I can hide weapons under them,” Jev said.

  “Small weapons.”

  “Like pistols and daggers?”

  “Take your positions, gentlemen,” Iridium said, shooing them toward the door and stopping whatever reply had been forthcoming. She gave Jev a frank look—in the eyes this time. “Am I correct in assuming that you won’t give your word not to attempt to harm me, escape, or do anything but assiduously attend my bedroom needs tonight?”

  One of the men rolled his eyes behind her back, but neither said anything at the comment.

  “That’s correct,” Jev said, surprised by the end of her question. Was sex truly what she wanted? It couldn’t be all she wanted.

  He wasn’t arrogant enough to believe he had any particular appeal that she couldn’t find elsewhere. He was his father’s heir and had some power and land of his own already, but there were hundreds of zyndar living in and near the city. Granted, few were zyndar prime—or the heirs to the prime—but the options still numbered in the dozens.

  “That’s what I figured, but seeing you waiting in the ready position got my hopes up.” She smirked and waved to the bedpost with the notches in it.

  “Eager to add another notch?” Jev asked. “What is that, twenty-seven? And here I would have guessed you could have hundreds of interested parties attending your, ah, bedroom needs.”

  “Twenty-seven zyndar men. They’re a little harder to bring down here than commoners.” Iridium waved at the guards behind her without glancing back.

  They had closed the door but stayed in the room, standing to either side of it. Glumly, Jev realized they were likely to remain there. Maybe they studied the ceiling while she had sex with her conquests. Or maybe they watched and that was their reward for loyal service. He hoped they weren’t invited to join in. He also hoped he could finagle a way out of this before bedroom needs came up again.

  “It’s true that we don’t usually frequent the subterranean lairs of villains,” he said.

  “Villains, really.” Iridium sat on the base of the bed. “As if we’re more villainous than the fat zyndar living off the labor of others.”

  “I’m not fat. As you can see. Were the other twenty-seven?”

  “No, but that’s because most of them were young pups. Tell me, Zyndar Dharrow, more about these dragon tears your family has stashed away.”

  Ah, so something he had mentioned had caught her interest. Good. That gave him a place to negotiate from.

  “Are you looking for something in particular?” he asked. “You just acquired Inquisitor Cham’s, and I see you have one of your own.”

  “Yes, it’s very newly carved.” Iridium slipped a hand into the top of her blouse, a blouse cut low enough to reveal the tops of her bosoms, and fished out a dragon tear with a dagger cut into the front. “Do you like it?”

  “Carved by a certain dwarven gem cutter, I assume?”

  “She’s the only one in town that can do the work sufficiently.”

  “I hear her services cost a lot,” Jev said.

  “Less than you’d think.” Iridium smiled, dropping the gem back into her blouse, then let her finger drift to the top button. “I might be willing to trade your inquisitor friend to you and let you go for three dragon tears.”

  “That’s a hefty price. Would you also tell me what you want with this Eye of Truth artifact?”

  “Is your freedom not worth a mere three dragon tears?” Iridium asked, ignoring his question. “And hers? I saw you admiring her ass.”

  Jev did his best not to react, but he felt warmth creep into his cheeks.

  “You were pretending not to look. It was cute. In here…” Iridium unbuttoned her blouse as she spoke. “You can look all you like.” Her eyes sharpened. “And I do hope you like.”

  Jev glanced at the guards. One was admiring the ceiling. One was watching, his interest even more disturbing than hers.

  “I think I could be motivated to like it more if I knew why you wanted that artifact.” He smiled and tried to sound smooth, but suggesting interest that he would never have felt dishonorable to him. Even if it was part of the negotiation game, and even if she saw through him.

  “To sell it. Several wealthy and influential people have learned about it of late, and a great deal is being offered. With such funds, I could secure new alliances. Destroy old enemies.”

  Jev was debating whether he believed her when a shout came from the corridor.

  He shifted, ready to leap from the bed if he got an opportunity. And maybe even if he didn’t. But Iridium’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, her gaze not straying from him.

  A fist pounded on the door.

  “Check it,” Iridium said without looking back. She ran her hand over Jev’s chest, nails scraping down to his abdomen. “Your muscles are quite lovely when you’re tensed to spring.” She smirked at him.

  “Someone’s drilling into the tunnel by our vault,” someone blurted. “You can already see the tip of the drill head. It’s huge. Some big steam-powered thing. We’ve got men running down to guard the spot, but what if it’s armored? And there’s a whole bunch of people behind it?”

  “Uhm, boss?” one of the guards said.

  Iridium finally tore her gaze from Jev—and his chest. She growled deep in her throat, glowering at the deliverer of the news. The man shrank back but didn’t retreat entirely.

  “What do you want us to do, milady?”

  “I’ll see to it.” Iridium looked back at Jev. “Do stay there so we can finish this soon.”

  “I can’t wait,” he murmured.

  She strode out of the room, not bothering to button her blouse. She snapped her fingers, and the two guards walked out behind her. The one who had been overly interested gave Jev a long look over his shoulder before the door closed.

  He supposed it was too much to hope that one would run off and get himself flattened by whatever this drilling machine was. He couldn’t imagine. Giant steam-powered tools weren’t anything Lornysh would use. Cutter? Maybe, but how would either of them know where he was?

  Maybe—

  A thunderous cacophony sounded on the other side of the door, and the bed shuddered. Jev jumped to his feet, landing with his arms spread for balance. Rock dust flowed under the crack in the door, tickling his nostrils. A rockfall? Was that what was happening?

  The door opened with a bang against the wall, and several head-sized chunks of rock tumbled inside. Even more dust hung in the air, obscuring his view, and he couldn’t tell if the guards were still out there.

  He looked around for a weapon in case he needed to defend himself, but the tiny hair scissors remained the only option.

  The dust in the air stirred, and a short brawny figure strode into the room. “Foolish human, what’re you doing just standing there? Do you not know a jail break when you see it?”

  “Master Grindmor.” Jev recovered enough to bow to her. “I am most pleased to see you.”

  A weak groan came from the corridor. One of the guards buried under rocks?

  Arkura tossed Jev boots and a stack of clothing that included cotton coveralls and Zenia’s wet blue robe. She must not have been able to find his clothing. Or maybe she’d deemed it too grimy to collect.

  As Jev started to dress, she held up something on a chain.

  “Is that Zenia’s dragon tea
r?”

  “If that’s the name of the naked woman you were with, I reckon so.” She tossed it to him. “Hurry up and get dressed, so I don’t have to look at all that hairless human skin. We need to go. That woman’ll figure out my diversions are diversions soon enough. She’s a cunning vixen.”

  Jev decided not to mention that his hairiness was perfectly in line with the human norm—he remembered how furred Cutter’s chest was. He yanked on the coarse cotton clothing and canvas boots. None of it fit well, but he wouldn’t complain.

  Not waiting for him, Arkura marched into the corridor. Jev rushed after her. The dust was settling, and he had no trouble seeing the oddly precise section of ceiling that had come down on the two guards. More groans emanated from below as Jev and his new guide clambered over the pile.

  Without hesitating, Arkura led him through two intersections, then turned down a long hall with numerous doors placed close together. Cell doors? She stopped in front of the sixth one on the right, though there was nothing to distinguish it from any of the others.

  “You were truthful with what you said, human?” Arkura splayed one hand on the door. “I’ve heard of your family. I believe you have the resources to help me. And I would like to meet another dwarf, assuming you spoke truthfully about that too.”

  “All of it was the truth,” Jev said. “I’ll help in any way I can, and I know Cutter will be eager to assist you. You’ve my word as a zyndar.”

  He knew that human social classes didn’t mean much, if anything, to dwarves, but she had worked in the capital a long time, so she would be familiar with the zyndar and the culture around being zyndar.

  “Good, because I’m tired of being swindled by thieves.” Arkura shoved at the door with one hand. She either had immense strength or she applied some of her magic, for the lock snapped, and the door banged open.

  Zenia stood inside and blinked at the sight of them. Or perhaps at the lantern light in the corridor. Her tiny cell was dark.

  “We’re being rescued,” Jev told her, holding out her dragon tear and robe. “My charms worked after all.”

  “That’s shocking but joyous news.” Zenia grasped the gem first, fingers wrapping tightly around it. More sincerely, she whispered, “Thank you,” to him and to Arkura.

  “Save your thanks.” The dwarf held up a hand. “I just want my tools, and your boyfriend promised to help me find them.”

  “My what?”

  Jev wasn’t heartened by the way Zenia looked like she would pitch over.

  “I think that’s me,” he said.

  “That’s even more shocking news.”

  “And not joyous?”

  “Uh.”

  “Let’s go.” Arkura pointed down the corridor. “There’ll be guards swarming down here any second, but I can make a back door if we have time.”

  “What happened to the guards that were in front of my door?” Zenia jogged to follow her.

  “I arranged a lot of diversions. Don’t irk a master cutter.” Arkura glared over her shoulder. A warning to both of them?

  “I don’t plan to, ma’am,” Jev said, bringing up the rear.

  “Have you by chance checked the city’s pumping stations for your missing tools?” Zenia asked.

  “What?” Arkura glanced back again. “Why would I?”

  “Just a hunch I had. I’d be happy to explain.”

  “Do so, human. Do so.”

  13

  Zenia yawned as she and Jev walked into the square in front of the Water Order Temple, the dragon fountain spitting water into its pool. Though the sky lightened above the city, few people walked the streets yet. That didn’t keep Zenia from glancing back often, worrying about spies or outright pursuers. By now, Iridium had to have realized that they were gone and that her dwarf ally was done doing her favors.

  Arkura had shown them to an exit from the subterranean lair, then parted ways with them, saying she would check the pumping stations and also that she expected Jev and his dwarf friend to check in with her later. Zenia figured it was a long shot, but she would be delighted if Arkura found her tools in one of the buildings. And, if they were submerged, Zenia hoped they were waterproof.

  As they drew near the broad temple steps, Zenia quickened her pace, eager to escape into the sheltered halls. One of the large doors already stood open, inviting in supplicants.

  Jev did not quicken his pace, and his expression did not suggest eagerness, but he also did not turn away. He could have. He also could have left Zenia in that cell. She hadn’t been the one to barter with Arkura. The dwarf never would have risked anything to help her.

  Jev followed Zenia up the steps, not straying from what was, for him, a potential prison. Though she did not truly think it would come to that. He would tell her and Sazshen what he knew about the artifact, and they would use his clues to figure out where they could find it. Then, if he truly hadn’t stolen it at some point, he ought to be released.

  Though her thoughts were reasonable to her, Zenia couldn’t help but feel twinges of guilt as he followed her across the landing, weariness—or defeat?—slumping his shoulders. He’d helped her with the thugs in the mangrove swamp, he’d gone along with her crazy plan to float down the river, and he’d helped her again in the Fifth Dragon lair. These were the actions of an ally, not an enemy.

  “Zenia?” a familiar voice called as soon as she stepped into the grand entry hall.

  “It’s me, Archmage,” she said.

  Inside, a few candles burned around the base of the Altar of the Blue Dragon, but it was too early for more than a shred of light to enter through the large eastern windows.

  Sazshen appeared out of the shadows, hurrying toward Zenia. “I worried when you didn’t come back last night.” She frowned at Jev. “He didn’t have the artifact?”

  “No. I had to bring him in for questioning.”

  “Does he know where it is?”

  “He knows…” Zenia looked at Jev, not wanting to speak anything that wasn’t true, and also finding herself reluctant to say anything that might incriminate him. “I’m not sure what exactly, but he knows more than he’s told me.”

  Sazshen frowned. “Didn’t you question him with your power?”

  “Not yet. It’s been an eventful night. And yesterday was eventful too.”

  “I heard you were treated at the hospital.” Sazshen’s frown deepened, and she stared accusingly at Jev.

  He wasn’t reacting to anything they said. He appeared too tired to care, but Zenia doubted that was the case.

  “Yes. After being attacked by an elf. Oh, and Rhi and I were separated.” Zenia barely resisted the urge to grab Sazshen’s arm. “Has she made it back?”

  “She did. Late last night. I had some of the story from her, but she had no idea where you’d ended up or how to find you. If she had, I’m sure she would have hurried back out to look. But, Zenia—” Sazshen held her hand up, palm out. “What do you mean you didn’t question him? You’ve clearly spent some time with him, and he’s the thief who stole the artifact.”

  “Is he?” Zenia realized that sounded like a challenge, or maybe even defiance, and hurried to add, “I mean, I’ve spoken with him enough to believe he didn’t take it, but as I said, I do believe he knows more about where it is.”

  “Zenia,” Sazshen said reprovingly, “a thief wouldn’t admit that he took something.”

  “But he’s zyndar, and he’s…” Zenia groped for a way to explain that she’d come to believe Jev was trustworthy and honorable without sounding like she’d been suborned or tricked somehow. “Well, he’s been gone for ten years. I don’t see how he could have been the thief.”

  “Clearly, he ordered it stolen. Zenia.” There was that frown of reproof again. “This is not a man without resources and access to many, many minions.”

  “Who told you I stole this artifact?” Jev asked, speaking for the first time. “And how many years ago exactly did it disappear?”

  “I will not reveal my resource
s to you, Zyndar,” Sazshen said.

  What about to me? Zenia wanted to ask, but she wouldn’t question the archmage in front of anyone.

  “As if you didn’t know, it was stolen almost five years ago,” Sazshen added.

  “Stolen from your temple?” Jev asked.

  “Stolen from a loyal member of the Water Order entrusted with it.” Sazshen stood straighter. “You will not question us, Zyndar.”

  “No? It’s easier for me to gather information if I do so.” Some of Jev’s casual irreverence slipped in, and Zenia had to hold back a smile.

  Even though she thought she was successful in doing so, Sazshen frowned over at her again. Zenia, realizing Sazshen could possibly read her amusement even if she didn’t smile, did her best to make her mind a blank.

  “We will question him and find the location of the artifact,” Sazshen said.

  Zenia nodded. This was what she had assumed would happen, and she welcomed it. Jev could prove his innocence, if he was indeed innocent, and if he knew the location of the artifact, a magically augmented questioning session would reveal it. Even if he didn’t know precisely where it was, she knew he had some ideas. He’d believed the answers might be back at his castle.

  “But not this morning,” Sazshen added. “You both look exhausted.”

  “Oh?” Jev rubbed his face. “I was hoping I looked dashing and alluring after my haircut and beard trim.” He raised his eyebrows toward Zenia.

  She frowned and shook her head at him, not wanting him to include her in any of his jokes, not with the archmage looking on. She already worried Sazshen suspected they had become closer than Zenia should have allowed.

  “No?” Jev asked. “All that grooming effort for nothing. A shame.”

  “Take him to a cell in the dungeon,” Sazshen said, unaffected by his one-sided banter. “I’ll find a disciple to bring him food and water, and he can rest for a few hours. I expect you to do the same. You’ll be more effective at questioning him after some sleep.”