“Worth the risk.” Saitia murmured. “Worth the cost.” She allowed a lovely, dark smile to float over her lips. She could find a way to use it, to create more delay in intricate mourning rituals.
She gestured to her women to draw near.
They leaned in, heads close to hers.
“Ritathan,” Satia said under her breath, as she nodded and smiled to the ladies about her. “Kill him.”
Chapter Forty-Four
Caris and the others bobbed swift curtseys before leaving the Queen.
They had their orders and their target. Calm settled over Caris; it was good to have a clear and concise goal. It brought a strange clarity to her world.
In perfect unity, they turned to one another, clustering as handmaidens do on being released from duties, as if giggling over a lover, or a hairstyle—
—Or planning a death.
“Most like in his tower, at this hour,” Nora murmured.
“Alone, most like,” Caris added, and nodded to the garden. “His student is without.” She felt a flicker of relief at that, for there could be no witnesses.
The Bonded never wanted witnesses.
“I’ve master keys,” Avice said.
They drifted down the hall as if returning to the Queen’s chambers, aware of the eyes on them.
“Never killed a mage before,” Nora said, her eyes getting that special wild look.
“We must be fast,” Avice said firmly. “Do not give him a chance to speak or cast his sorcery.”
“He is chained,” Mira said.
“He is permitted to defend himself,” Avice reminded them.
“These skirts,” Nora muttered, and they all nodded. Not easy to be a swift killer in their cumbersome dresses. They had slits for their daggers, but still it was an issue.
As was the blood.
Memory flared for Caris, of a sweet, hidden kiss in curtained shadows. Her heart hurt with the barest flicker of regret. Halithe, her hopes, her desires—
The need of the Bond asserted itself. “There’s a concealed alcove,” she offered, focused now on the target. “Close to his office.”
“That could work.” Avice nodded as she took the lead.
“We could poison him,” Mira said, then shook her head. “Never mind.” No doubt she too felt the urgency of the Bond. “If it’s to be done, we’d best be quick. Every blow must be a fatal one.” Mira looked at Nora. “Take no risks.”
“I don’t,” Nora insisted.
Caris gave her a sidelong look which Nora pointedly ignored. Her dark eyes glittered. “Iris will be sorry to miss this,” Nora said.
Avice kept them moving along. “Do we know the room?”
“Door at one end, windows at the other,” Nora answered quickly. “Chairs in front of a desk, then his desk chair. Room is lined with shelves that stick out, making good hiding places. Books everywhere and a cage of songbirds on the corner of the desk.” Nora smiled. “He’s old and slow and—”
“Make no assumptions,” Mira scolded as they moved into a new corridor, away from the halls of power.
“We will try the ‘message from the Queen’ routine first.” Avice led the way briskly, now that they were out of sight of the courtiers. “I’ll go in first, Caris distracts, and you two come in fast and low.”
