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“Dilana, wait.” I grabbed her arm. “I ate breakfast and I’m not cold. Sit down. I want to talk to you.”
Her baby doll’s beauty hadn’t dimmed with time or grief, but I could see a touch of sadness in her eyes despite her smile.
“It’s so good to see you again.” She rubbed a hand along my arm. “Look at how tan your skin is! Tell me what you’ve been doing in Sitia besides sunning yourself.”
I laughed at the fantasy of me lounging in the sun, but sobered. She wanted to avoid the subject. Avoid the reason I thought she might hate me. But I couldn’t go on without saying anything. “Dilana, I’m sorry about Rand.”
She waved the comment away. “No need. The big oaf got himself mixed up with Star and her nefarious deeds. Not your fault.”
“But he wasn’t her target. I was and—”
“He saved you. The dumb ox died a hero.” She blinked back tears threatening to spill over her long eyelashes. “It’s a good thing we didn’t get married or I’d be a widow. No one wants to be a widow at twenty-five.” She took a deep breath. “Let me get you a slice of bread.”
Dilana left before I could stop her. When she returned with a plate, she had regained her composure. I asked her about the latest gossip.
“Can you believe Ari and Janco are working with Valek? They were in here last month trying on their new uniforms and preening in front of the mirrors.”
“Do you know where they are?” I asked.
“Some mission with Valek. I had to make a sneak suit for each of them. I used up all my black fabric to cover Ari’s muscles. Can you imagine that big lunk sneaking around?”
I couldn’t. Ari didn’t strike me as the assassin type. He was more of a one-on-one fighter. Same with Janco. He wouldn’t feel right killing someone without a fair fight. So why were they with Valek?
Dilana continued to chat. When the subject returned to uniforms, I asked her about getting an adviser’s uniform. “The Commander has asked me to stay and I feel like I stand out in these Sitian clothes.” Not an outright lie, yet a pang of guilt twinged in my chest.
“Even though coral is a beautiful color on you, you’ll be warmer in a uniform.” Dilana bustled over to her piles of clothes. She picked out a black shirt and pants. Handing them to me, she shooed me behind the changing screen. “Try them on.”
I fingered the two red diamonds stitched on the shirt’s collar. The last time I had stood here, I had been exchanging my red prison gown for the food taster’s uniform. When I pulled my shirt off, I saw my snake bracelet. Round and round, it hugged my arm. I suppressed the sudden laughter bubbling in my throat. I’ve come full circle, but this time I put on an adviser’s uniform. It fit better than my food taster uniform, molding to my body like a second skin. The Commander wanted me to help him, while the Council wanted me dead. About a year ago, the opposite had been true. This time I allowed the hollow snort of laughter to escape my lips.
“Something wrong?” Dilana asked.
I stepped out. “The pants are a little big.”
She grabbed the waistband and pinched the material together, marking it with chalk. “I’ll have these fixed by lunch.”
I changed, thanked her and headed out to visit Kiki and the horses. The Commander’s stables were located next to the kennels. The animals shared a training ring and there was a pasture for the horses along the castle’s walls.
Kiki dozed in her immaculate stall. I checked on the other horses. Their coats gleamed in the sunlight. They seemed content and well cared for. I complimented the stable boys and girls, who nodded and resumed their work. Their demeanor reminded me of adults and I wondered if they had any fun.
On my way back to the castle, I spotted Porter, the Commander’s Kennel Master. His dogs never wore leashes and their obedience to him was uncanny. I paused and watched him work with a litter of puppies. He had hidden treats in the training yard and taught the pups how to find them. Being puppies, they frequently forgot what they were supposed to do, but once Porter caught the attention of a dog, he touched its nose and said, “Go find.”
Energized with its mission, the puppy scented the air and made a beeline for a treat. Impressive. Porter noticed me watching and gave me a curt nod. He had been good friends with Rand, and I recalled a conversation I had had with Rand about Porter.
Rand hadn’t believed the rumors about Porter’s magical connection with the dogs. Since there was no proof, Rand stayed true to their friendship when everyone else avoided contact with the Kennel Master. As long as Porter continued to be useful and did not draw attention to himself, his job for the Commander was secure.
I wondered about the magic, though. If he had magic and could use it without getting caught, then there might be others in Ixia doing the same thing. Porter had worked for the King many years before the Commander’s takeover, giving him plenty of time to learn how to use and hide his power. Perhaps communicating with the dogs was all he could do.
One way to find out. I pulled a thread of power and made a mental connection with one of the puppies. Her energy and enthusiasm jumped from one smell to another. When I tried to communicate with her, she either ignored me or didn’t hear me. Her nose filled with the scent of soft laced with a sharp hint of squish, and she dug into the ground seeking a worm. When a voice of warmth and caring called, she left her task and ran toward Porter.
He gave all the puppies a rawhide stick to chew and filled the row of bowls with water. I moved my awareness to him, sensing his surface thoughts. They were focused on the tasks for the day, yet uneasiness lingered. Why was she here? What does she want?
To help Ixia, I said in his mind.
He jerked as if bitten in the leg and glared at me.
You hear me, don’t you? The rumors are true.
He strode toward me. I checked the empty yard. Although I knew how to defend myself, his tall muscular frame reminded me that, despite the gray hair, Porter remained a formidable opponent. He stopped mere inches from me.
“You’re here to help Ixia?” Porter growled. If he had hackles they would have been raised. “You can help by leaving us alone.”
He didn’t mean him and the dogs. I caught a brief image of other Ixians.
“There must be something I can do?”
“Like you did for Rand? No, thank you. All you’ll do is get us killed.” He turned away, but his words, or enslaved, reached me.
A cold splash of fear drenched me. Was there someone in Ixia using magicians again
st their will? Why was I surprised? Magic and corruption went hand in hand. Would it corrupt me as well? I’d been using my magic without stopping to think about the consequences. Connecting with Porter could get him killed, and I did it just to satisfy my own curiosity. If I was so blasé about using magic now, how would I view it in the future? Would I crave it like an addiction? I began to think it would be better not to use magic at all.
Before I could return to the castle, I heard Kiki’s whinny. I hurried back to the stables, but Kiki had already opened the door and met me in the walkway.
Foot hurt, she said.
She followed me to the training yard and bent her front right hoof back for me to inspect the underside. A rock was lodged in her frog.
When did this happen?
Night. Didn’t hurt then.
Out in the sunlight, she didn’t appear to be as well groomed as I had thought.
She snorted. Lavender Lady take care.
You wouldn’t stand for the stable boy?
Too rough. Wait for you.
You’re spoiled rotten.
I left Kiki in the yard, and fetched my pick and brushes.
She lifted her leg and I dislodged the stone then pulled the shedding blade through her copper hair. After a while, I removed my cloak. When I finished, clumps of horse hair clung to my sweaty clothes.
You’re beautiful and I need a bath, I said to her. Pasture or stall?
Stall. Nap time.
And what about your snooze before I groomed you?
Pre-nap.
Ah, the life of a horse. I made sure her bucket held fresh water. On my way out, I bumped into Porter.
“You’re good with that horse,” he said.
I waited, sensing he had more to say.
“Maybe you can help us.” He scanned the area. A few lads worked nearby. He lowered his voice. “There’s a meeting tonight in Castletown. Forty-three Peach Lane rear door. Come during dinner. Don’t let anyone know where you’re going.”
