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The bed looks like heaven to me, and I sit on the edge, kicking off my boots as I do.
"My Lord of Knowledge, Seth, has asked not to be disturbed for any reason," the vizier says, watching me as I pull off my shoes. "I would introduce you to him, but until he sends for us…"
Kassam waves a hand idly. "It is fine. There will be time enough to see him again. My anchor needs to rest."
"Of course she does," the vizier says smoothly. "There are servants assigned to these quarters, and they will bring food and fresh clothes, and will play music for you to soothe you as you rest. I will bring footmen to fan you as you rest, and they will also draw you a bath—"
I raise a hand, weary. "All of that sounds awesome, but I just want to sleep. I don't need music or fanning."
Kassam strokes my cheek with a gentle finger. "Then you will rest, my little light." He turns toward the vizier. "But I have a few requests. What kind of sweets do you have?"
"Sweets?" the vizier echoes, clearly confused.
"To feed his hedonism," I say with a tired smile. The blankets look soft and appealing, and even though I'm covered in travel dust, I pull up one corner and slide underneath, shoving aside a dozen pillows.
The vizier's expression turns knowing. "Of course, of course. We have one of the finest cooks in all the land who would be happy to make anything you like. Tell me. Do you prefer nuts or fruit in your baked goods?"
"I like both," Kassam says, straightening as I fluff a pillow under my head. God, it feels good to lie down. I'm in heaven.
"And nose spices?" the vizier inquires. "Shall I—"
"No nose spices," Kassam says, and looks over at me. "But I will taste all your beers and wines." He picks up one of the decorative pillows from the bed and sniffs it. "This smells like fruit?"
"Do you like perfumes?" the vizier asks. "I can show you those, as well."
I smile sleepily at Kassam as he gives me one last look and then follows the vizier out of the room. I wait for the dangerous, pulling feeling of the bond, but it's gentle, and I realize they must not be going far. Closing my eyes, I start to drift off—
—when I hear something moving in my room.
I open my eyes, my senses immediately on alert. I'm an idiot, I realize. I just hopped into bed in a strange place and assumed I was safe. What if someone's come to assassinate me because they think they're doing Kassam a favor? Terrified, I clutch one of the stupid pillows on the bed to use as the saddest weapon ever and peer over the edge.
One of the conmac settles on the floor on the far side of my bed. His long, wolven body stretches out and he lowers his enormous head onto one leg, giving me a reproachful look with his bright yellow eyes. As I relax, another conmac wolf slips in and settles on the other side of my bed, practically glaring at me.
They must have followed us through the city, and now they're settling themselves down next to my bed, guarding me. They want me alive because—I'm guessing—they suspect Kassam won't follow through with his promise to free them if something happens to me.
"I know," I say. "I know. I should have thought it through. Being a target is kinda new to me."
One of the conmac yawns, as if my excuses are tiresome.
"Point taken. Thank you anyhow. I owe you guys one." I settle down into the bed again, and this time when I drift off, no one interrupts.
37
When I wake up again, it's dark in the bedroom, no afternoon light flooding through the pretty stained-glass windows. The conmac are no longer next to the bed, and when I close my eyes and mentally “feel” for the bond I share with Kassam, there's no pulling at all. He must be back.
Yawning, I pad to the bathroom area and use a chamber pot (which beats the bushes I've been using for the last while) and then splash myself clean with a bit of water and soap left by the mirror. When I feel marginally fresher, I head out of the bedroom and towards the sitting room, opening the fancy beaten-metal double doors.
Kassam sits in a plush chair, petting a golden-feathered falcon as he pops something that looks like a cookie into his mouth. There's a tray with no less than eight wine goblets on a table near him, and two servants hover a short distance away, both of them armed with what look like masses of pastries.
"My light!" Kassam declares as I step inside, feeling about as fresh as roadkill. He gives me a cheery look. "You are finally awake. Do you feel better?"
