An unexpected thrill rolled through her despite this new information, a pull she hadn’t felt for years. Once, a challenge like this would have been everything she had wanted and more. She would have memorized the conceited tilt of Allaster’s full lips so that when the moment came that she turned his world upside down, she could smile back at him in just the same way. She always had liked seeing the look on a mark’s face when they realized the truth.
It was the same desire that had cost Loraya her life.
She reminded herself of that as she dropped into a desk chair, picked up the quill from an ink bottle he had procured for her, and got to work.
CHAPTER 7
KASIRA
KASIRA WOKE FACE DOWN ON THE DESK.SHE DIDN’T REMEMBERfalling asleep, only what had felt like an endless array of questions.
Under what conditions must balestone be mined?
How do you put out a Scarlin fire?
What did the Avari export before they closed their borders?
The first predawn rays filtered through the room’s vast windows as she peeled her face from the wood, rubbing her sore neck. She envied those who could slumber carelessly. She had never been a good sleeper, whereas Revna had been able to fall asleep on her feet, a thought Kasira carefully folded away.
“Ah, you’re awake.” Iylis peered over the top of a low-backed couch. “I have breakfast.”
Kasira joined him by the fire, grateful to find a tray of still-warm buttered toast on the ottoman. Iylis stretched nearly the entire length of the couch, a small book spread between his paws, filled with rows of circular pouches.
“Are those coins?” she asked, keeping her distance from the snow leopard. A polite interest was to be expected, but Eirlana would not settle into nonchalance with a beast so quickly, despite Kasira’s curiosity.
“I collect them.” Iylis straightened proudly. “I have coins from before the Avari retreated into seclusion, silver dallacks from beforethe unification of the Jacari clans, and even a Miravi nult from before they switched from balestone to silver. That one is my favorite; it glows!”
“Iylis, I thought we agreed no coin lectures before noon?” Allaster swept into the room, all traces of last night’s dishevelment gone. His hair curled neatly across his brow, his silver-blue eyes ringed in kohl. He paused when he saw her. “You’re still here, are you?”
She levelled a cool look at him. “Where else would I be?”
“And here I’d been hoping it was all a dream.” He waved a hand, and the tray shimmered, refilling with toast. He took a slice and strode to the desk where her test lay in an untidy sprawl.
“Mind the rug!” Iylis called after him. “You’ll get crumbs everywhere.”
Kasira straightened as Allaster snatched up the papers, flipping through pages on his way back to them. She had been very careful about the questions she had answered. The ones about beasts common to the Isherwood had been simple—and expected knowledge of a Kal—and she had correctly answered several about artifacts that originated in Kalthos. The section on magical theory she had all but skipped, and she had left more blank about foreign policy than she would have liked had she had the proper time to prepare. To Allaster, it would look—
“Stop!” She lurched forward as he fed the thick stack of sheets to the fire. She watched the flames lick hungrily at hours of work, reducing it to ash. “What was the point of having me do all that if you weren’t even going to check it?”
He shrugged. “I was curious if you actually would. Besides, I did check it. I don’t need a hundred pages to tell me you know a marginal amount about beasts, nothing of artifacts, and even less about foreign policy, which, for a lady of your stature, is rather odd, don’t you think?” He raised his hand.
“Don’t you dare—”Snap.
They appeared outside in a small paddock. Morning dew clung to the long blades of grass, the sky the pale orange of an autumn leaf. She breathed through the fading nausea, until she realized they were not alone in the enclosure. One of the winged canine beasts staredthem down from the far side—a Relin. It was nearly as tall as her, with a skeletal frame, muscular legs, and a boxy head. One wing clung tightly to its gaunt back, the other missing.
For one protracted moment, Kasira’s Malik instincts battled with Eirlana’s expected fear. Relins were some of the swiftest beasts she knew, with curved three-inch fangs descending from their upper jaw. You never ran from a Relin—you wouldn’t be fast enough. Her hand shifted a fraction toward her concealed blade, but in the end, she held true to her role.
With a feigned cry of alarm, she clambered up the fence and dropped to the other side, her injuries twinging with pain. She glared haughtily through the slats at a bemused Allaster. “What was the meaning of that?”
“Relins are class O beasts,” he answered blithely. “Which means they’re less than harmless. Benlo here eats only plants and fish.”
Sure enough, Benlo was slowly consuming his body weight in grass and hadn’t paused even when they had appeared near him. Kasira had killed more than one of his fellows in her time in the Malikinar, watched people die because of those fangs. She didn’t think Allaster was the best judge of what constituted harmless.
Carefully, she let her expression shift, revealing the briefest flicker of curiosity, before she caught Allaster staring and quickly let it darken into a frown.
“I’m going to assume you’ve never worked with a beast in your life?” he inquired.
She lifted her chin. “Of course not. You run from them, or you kill them, before they kill you.”
