AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I know,” he said. “After you killed the skull mage, you turned to me and you were smiling. A big, bright smile. Old Kate smile.”
“Old Kate?”
“Dangerous Kate. Stabby Kate. My Kate.”
I raised my head and leaned it on my bent elbow. “Stabby?”
“Yes. Exciting.” He grinned.
So far, so good. “More words, bigger hole, Your Furriness.”
“You haven’t called me that in forever.”
“You haven’t roared in forever.”
His grin relaxed into a softer smile. “When I was on the wall, with Keelan’s pack at my back, it felt right. Seeing the enemy come, and meeting them, and stopping them. I missed it. It was a battle, Kate. We haven’t been in a battle together in forever.”
It was time to stop dipping my toes into the water and just jump in.
Like right about now.
Now would be good.
“Some pair of homicidal maniacs we are,” I murmured, buying time.
“We’re not maniacs. We do what we have to do, and we do it well. Like it or not, the world needs an occasional roar. Maybe in the future it won’t, but for now, it can use it… Someone is coming up the stairs.”
We waited silently.
A careful knock echoed through the door.
“Consort,” Jynx said. “There are two guys here to see you. They said they were ‘of the Owl.’”
“Thanks.”
She walked away. Saved by the visitors.
“‘Of the Owl’?” Curran’s eyebrows furrowed.
“My father is the gift that keeps on giving.” I rolled out of bed. “Come with?”
“Of course.” He chuckled low. “I’ll stand next to you and look menacing.”
“No need to stand. You can sit and look menacing.”
“Thank you, my queen.”
“Yes, be grateful that I’m a wise and benevolent ruler.”
We pulled on our clothes and walked out onto the balcony.
Two men waited on the street below us, blocked by a wall of shapeshifters. The younger wore an old green T-shirt and a red ballcap. The older man had chosen a worn gray sweatshirt and a white ballcap. They both wore jeans, and their beat-up work boots looked tired. A couple of day laborers waiting to be picked up, ready to work and perfectly harmless. Wouldn’t give them a second glance.
The older man looked up. His skin was like ancient parchment, a light, even umber. His face was long, made longer by a dense, short beard streaked with gray. His cheekbones stood out, the cheeks so devoid of fat that they had developed vertical creases. His eyes were dark and narrow under thick eyebrows. Everything about him, from the deep furrows in his forehead when he squinted against the evening sun to the harsh lines of his nose, was sharp, angular, and severe, and yet he was a handsome older man.
Jushur, son of Kizzura. Also known as Akku the Owl. My father’s former spymaster. Those eyes had witnessed the brutal massacre of my family, the wonders of my father’s rule, the zenith of Shinar, and the end of the world.
The man next to him looked less than half his age. Same profile, same pronounced cheekbones, same high forehead, and same golden undertone to the skin. Rimush possessed a kind of steady calm. Nothing seemed to faze him. He looked at me now like a man who had climbed half of a steep mountain. He knew there would be falling rocks, landslides, and hungry monsters along the way, because he had beaten some of them already, and he was determined to ascend to the apex.
Nothing good would come from this meeting.
“Let them up,” I said.
My father’s former spymaster looked around the balcony before sitting in his designated rocking chair. Rimush ignored his chair and positioned himself behind his father, standing quietly. Keelan took the identical position behind me and Curran.
The balcony door opened and Andre came in, carrying a coffee table filled with drinks and a platter of cookies with one hand. He set it between us, nodded to Curran and me, and went back inside.
Rimush’s standing bugged me, but asking him to sit was pointless and telling him to sit would acknowledge my authority over him, which I was doing my absolute best to reject. Keelan was clearly not sitting down either.
“Do you prefer Jushur or Akku?” I took the coffee pot from the table and poured two cups. Roland had mentioned that Akku was a coffee fiend.
“Jushur,” he said. “The man named Akku died when his king left the world.”
How did Hugh put it that one time? The king is out, long rule the queen. Life must go on.
“Fair enough. Sugar? Cream?”
Jushur took a moment to answer. “Sugar, please.”
Rimush remained silent.
I spooned some sugar into the cups and offered them to the two visitors. “Please.”
Jushur gave me an odd look, took the cup, and sipped. Rimush took one step forward, picked up his cup as if it were made of gold, and took a small swallow.
“You have chosen a public place for this meeting,” Jushur said.
