16 #3
Myria gave herself no time to think; think, and she would bend. She shook her head. The centurion lashed back her hand in a pale arcanic blaze, and Felix started forward in alarm. Myria closed her eyes, drawing a last convulsive breath, and—
Nothing. The light died.
She heard the woman clap her hands together and step back. Myria dared to look, and found Valora watching her with something like satisfaction.
“You’re right, Aurelias. By no means a common thief.”
Her heart thudded ten times inside her head before her wits caught up. Too soon, relief engulfed her. All at once, her bones felt like wax, her hands numb, her eyes blurred.
Stop that, you splitwit. It’s a trick. It’s got to be.
“I’m honored, ma’am,” said Myria, impressed by how light her voice came out.
“Now, I’d like to offer you employment.”
Myria looked at her captor for a moment, wondering if she’d heard correctly.
“You know, this is the sort of nonsense that makes philosophers blather on about woman being changeable and flighty.”
“I don’t join ranks with cowards or turncoats, Miss Cadessa,” said Gloriana. “Now we’ve established that you’re neither . . .”
At a flick of her fingers, the bonds fell loose. Myria flexed her wrists and ankles, but made no attempt to rise. She wasn’t sure her body was up to standing, after that.
For the first time, she took in the room about her—not that there was much to take in. It was one unbroken sweep of moon-gray marble, windowless and doorless, lit by the flat shimmer of illuminary vapor.
“You mentioned Vixius, in connection with Praetor Evander,” the centurion went on. “What’s their connection?”
“Before I start turning over my cards, I’d like some assurance that you’re not going to murder me,” Myria said mildly. The centurion inclined her head.
“I find self-interest is the best assurance. My brother, Praetor Valorus, is the Magister-General. Evander opposes him. I’d like the man out of the way.”
Well, that was pure Carinth, and probably at least half true.
Anyone with an ear to the ground knew that Valorus was losing votes to Evander.
Most praetors made a great many enemies in clawing their way to power, and even more in keeping it.
The moment he lost the protection of his office, he fell, and brought his house down with him.
But is that all? The thought came scratching in from the edge of her mind. If the centurion knew about Vixius, perhaps she’d guessed that he was behind the Elysius break-in. As the Magister-General’s sister, she might know what they’d kept in that vault. Perhaps she fancied she could take it back.
“And Vixius?” Myria prompted. She was surprised that anyone beyond the grayside knew that name, but perhaps the woman was bluffing.
“I should think that speaks for itself.”
Sounds like a bluff.
“You don’t know who he is, do you?”
“I know enough. The ruler of the grayside,” Valora said, a little sharply. “A threat to all Carintheum.”
“Ah. You’d like to capture him for the good of civilization?” asked Myria. Felix bridled at the implication, but the centurion only smiled.
“You mean to ruin Vixius. I can help you.”
“Potentially,” Myria replied, “though I was doing tolerably well without your peculiar brand of help. What do you propose?”
“For a start, I won’t kill you and every one of your accomplices,” said Gloriana.
“Given your position, that ought to be enough. I’d like your willing aid, though, so I’ll be generous.
Whatever you take from those devils, you can keep.
Use whatever methods you see fit. I only ask to close the day with both men gone.
If you succeed, you’ll have my protection. ”
“How magnanimous. Do I need it?”
“If Vixius is master of the grayside, you’ll be crossing every villain who ever profited from his rule,” said the centurion. “Even if you escape them, you just freed a prisoner from Haideum Castle. How long do you imagine you’ll last?”
Myria sat back with a thoughtful air, as though considering the offer. Best to act as though she held all the cards, even when she barely had one. Still, she’d play it for all it was worth. If Valora wanted her, then she was damned well going to bargain for the pleasure.
“Well, that all sounds fair and aboveboard,” she said after a moment.
“Yes, I’ve a scheme that’ll ruin Vixius and Evander together.
Thing is . . . those imaginary accomplices of mine.
I might need them, and I can’t answer for whether they’ll want to play.
You’ll let me offer them the choice, and you shan’t follow me.
If they decline, I’ll have your guarantee that they’ll go unharmed. ”
“You expect me to let you run free into Carintheum?” the centurion said, looking at her with something near incredulity.
“If you want my help, yes.”
“No.”
“You could find me again. I know that,” said Myria. “With or without them, I’ll return.”
“You can give no assurance that I can trust.”
“And nor can you.”
Felix cleared his throat, and both women started. Valora, too, seemed to have forgotten he was there.
“It seems, ma’am, that you need a hostage,” he said. “Might I offer you my services?”