This victory tasted like ash in her mouth.She sipped the weak, cold tea to wash the flavor away.
The conference room door opened again.She turned; Feirn was back.His gaze was direct.“Sophie,” he said in Thai, closing the door behind him.“We need to talk.”
“What’s wrong?”she replied in the same language.“I can tell something is bothering you.”
He moved closer, voice dropping to barely above a whisper in case they were overheard, though the language provided extra protection from eavesdroppers.“I received a message.From a contact in the Yam Khûmk?n.About the Master.”
Her breath caught.“Is Connor all right?”
“Yes.For now.”Feirn glanced at the door, then back to her.“The ascendancy anniversary is in four days.Then Sunan will challenge him for leadership of the Yam Khûmk?n.”
“I know.”Sophie’s mouth went dry at the reminder of ritual combat and ancient rules, with death of one of the challengers the only acceptable outcome.
“Connor has been training with the men every day,” Feirn continued.“Growing the bond he has with them.He meditates, sometimes all night.He’s physically ready, but ...”
“But?”
“My contact says he is still not as strong as he could be.Spiritually.Emotionally.”
Sophie turned to the window, her reflection wavering in the glass against the dark outside.“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because you’re the one who made him want to live for something more.”Feirn moved to stand beside her.“When you were with him, he was stronger.Not just in body but in spirit.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“Not so long.”Feirn pressed a folded paper into her hand.“This is the information for a contact in Bangkok, someone who can get you close to the compound, to a surveillance structure, before the challenge.So you could watch the contest and encourage him.If you choose to.”
Sophie’s heart thudded with hard, heavy beats as if it were squeezed in a fist.She hated the Yam Khûmk?n, its jungle fortress, and everything that pile of crumbling stone stood for.She’d sworn never to set foot in that place.
She glanced down at the paper—coordinates written in Feirn's careful hand, a phone number, a name:Kamon.
“The CIA is watching everything now,” she said.“They’ll know if I leave the country.”
“There are ways.Your friend, the Frenchman—he has connections overseas, yes?Perhaps a private plane, a flight plan with unscheduled changes.You could be in Bangkok tomorrow night.”
“And then what?I can’t stop the challenge.Connor would never run from it.I’d only be a distraction.”
“No, you can’t stop the challenge.”Feirn agreed.“But I would argue that with you nearby, he will want to win even more.To have something precious to fight for.”
“He can’t have me, in any case.We’re over and done.”Sophie’s hand closed tightly around the paper, crushing it.“Yet I do owe him for saving my life from that volcano disaster on the Big Island.”
“There’s something else,” Feirn said.“My contact shared that there are rumors in the compound about a woman who escaped CIA custody.A woman who knows the old ways, who might be heading home to the fortress.A powerful woman who supports Sunan.”
It had to be Pim Wat.Sophie’s pulse evened out into a rapid thundering.“Foul daughter of Death,”she cursed, her eyes closed.“May your corpse rot forever.”
“Yes, I am talking about your mother.”Feirn’s brown eyes twinkled with a touch of humor.“And I can’t promise you’ll find her, but if Pim Wat is returning to Thailand, the Brotherhood of Ancient Ways would want her as an ally.It could be your chance to capture her.”
“I can see her joining forces with them.The only person she hates more than me is Connor.”Sophie looked up at Feirn.“If I do this?—”
“I’ll be on the same plane and never leave your side,” he said.
Sophie gazed down at the crushed scrap in her hand again.Four days.
In four days, Connor would face Sunan in combat that could only end in death for one of them.
Whatever they’d been to each other, whatever they could never be again, the thought of him dying while she sat safe in her home in Hawaii and her mother prowled the world—no.
She couldn’t let it stand.
