Lory just shook her head, lifting her hand and pulling his from her shoulder to lace their fingers together. “First, we finish the mission. Then, we figure out this mess.”
A mountain seemed to crumble from Khayrivven’s shoulders as she stepped closer, rose to her toes, and kissed him briefly on the corner of his mouth.
Enteringthe palace through the hidden door in the side of the rock it had been built upon made Lory feel like every bit the assassin she was supposed to be, but her hands shook as the door noiselessly slid shut behind them and they stood in the faint glow of a small torch, their clothes soaked and their hair dripping.
Lory had been looking forward to the rain, the smell of wet soil, the promise of life it carried with it. Instead, it was the harbinger of a death she was supposed to deliver.
“We’re under the basement of the palace.” Khayrivven gestured at a low door of blackened steel, similar to the ones at the Ward. “A few levels up, a ceremony for the Tears of the Gods is being held in the temple yard as we speak. No one will notice we’re already drenched when we arrive.”
He shoved a hand through his wet hair, sending a cascade of water down his neck.
“Are you ever going to tell me the name of my target?” Lory whispered as she followed Khayrivven along the corridor, stopping as the ceiling dipped toward the door. Khayrivven opened it with a touch of his hand. “Since when do you have the magic key to Ulder’s residence?”
With a shrug, Khayrivven ducked through the door, continuing along their darkening path. “Lenya keyed the door to me for the night.”
Mind-boggling, the details of what magic could do, the nuances of its power. Perhaps this was his entry ticket to get Elina out of the palace.
“Tonight is not the night. Lenya will be watching, and if either of us as much as gives the appearance that we’re not staying on target… Well, you know the consequences,” he responded to her thought, reminding her to keep her mind in check.
“Lenya will bewatching?” She had trouble keeping her voice down.
“Lenya is not stupid. He is well aware that you’ve been dreading this day and that you might be hoping to get out of this. He wants to know you’ll obey his orders.” He paused, slowing at a corner, shoulders tensing as he checked left and right before following the long, dusty path. Lory would be surprised if the king even knew this entrance existed. A small, quiet part of her wondered who held the true power in this palace. “He did the same thing with me,” Khayrivven continued. “Watched me make my first kill.”
The weight of his words hit her like a punch in the chest. “I’m sorry.”
“She was a year older than me and probably a better fighter. Only her loyalties lay in the wrong place.” He didn’t say anything else, but from the tone of his voice, from the heaviness entering his gait for a few, slow paces, Lory could tell that the woman had meant something to him. No wonder he’d built a wall so high and solid, no one he didn’t invite in could ever get through. No wonder he pushed people away, preferred to bealone?—
Maybe, when this was over, she should tell him about Princeton Nahrit and how he’d been watching over him. That he hadn’t been alone since that first kill. Maybe?—
“What about the Medica Hand?”
Shit—
“Stay out of my head.” Lory clenched her fist. She needed to be more careful with her thoughts, or she might project them into a random head, and the wrong people might find out.
“I would, but you’re practically shoving your thoughts into mine.” By the sound of his voice, she could tell a grin was playing on his lips. “It’s quite useful, actually. Especially while we?—”
“Don’t we have a mission to focus on?” Lory groaned, almost forgetting they were setting out to kill someone at what he’d been about to imply.
“Don’t forget you have that ability when we enter the crowd. Share your thoughts with me, every step of the way.” The grin was gone, replaced by a seriousness that brought Lory back to her task.
For long minutes, they walked in silence, their Veiled skills keeping them from disturbing the empty corridors.
The next door they reached was nearly invisible, its outline a mere thin line in the limestone. Khayrivven stopped, running his fingers over the edges until they disappeared into a hidden groove. Something clicked, and the door slid aside, soundless as the first one. Whatever magic was at work, it must have been strong to keep an ancient door that couldn’t be regularly used so quiet.Useful.Magic could beuseful,notonly to kill but for domestic purposes, Lory realized as she stared at the gap in the wall, wide enough for Khayrivven’s broad shoulders to fit through. On the other side, a stone chamber tinted in faint starlight was beckoning.
Without another word, Khayrivven stepped through the opening, and Lory followed, one hand casually by her hip and ready to slide through the folds of her dress to the hilt of the knife strapped to her thigh.
When she glanced back at the corridor, all she saw was a stone wall. She hadn’t even heard it slip back into place.
“It’s an illusion,” Khayrivven explained. “Lenya said it’s been here since the beginning. The illusion becomes deadly, though, if someone should try to slip through whose magic isn’t keyed to it.”
Lory’s stomach knotted. “It’s not keyed to me,” she reminded him.
Over his shoulder, Khayrivven threw her a grin. “I deactivated it long enough for you to slip through. We’ll need to do the same thing on the way back. No hopping through the door by yourself, no matter how dire the situation.”
“Do you expect things to go sideways?” A cold clenched her chest that had nothing to do with the wet clothes clinging to her body and the cooler temperature down in the ancient tunnels.
Once more, Khayrivven shrugged. “All I can say is that your target won’t go down easy. Be prepared for a fight.”
