Chapter 14
Imeant to sleep in, but my rumbling stomach woke me just as the sun was cresting the horizon outside our window.
I rolled over to see the early dawn rays cast a glow over Iannis’s sleeping face.
He looked so peaceful, with his long, dark lashes fanning against his sharp cheekbones, and his stern mouth unbowed and slightly open.
I ran my fingers gently through his long, rumpled hair, and he rumbled a little, then turned into my touch like a big lion seeking a good rub behind the ears.
Part of me wanted to stay there and snuggle with him, but hunger won out.
Guess that was what I got for going without a midnight snack, especially after sex.
Careful not to wake him, I slipped out of bed and dressed in my normal clothes, then slid the lacquered door open as quietly as I could and stepped out onto the porch.
The cool morning air, and the sound of birds chirping, greeted me along with the rising sun.
The blue-grey sky overhead, with tiny white clouds, was the same as back home in Canalo.
All I could see were the pretty pavilions and beyond, bits of the higher palace complex.
The wall around the Imperial City prevented me from glimpsing any forests, though my nose told me that a garden with trees must be nearby, and ponds with fish and aquatic birds.
Beyond those walls were the private palace grounds, off limits to visitors.
A whiff of incense wafted on the air, and my nose twitched.
Did Garaian mages also worship the Creator and the First Mage?
And what of the Garaian humans and shifters? I’d have to ask Director Chen.
I took my time enjoying the exotic architecture and intriguing smells as I picked my way along a path to a nearby pavilion with a twenty-four-hour buffet.
It had been set up to cater to the Empire’s guests in between more formal meals, and I was eager to try the many and varied dishes that I was told would be offered.
“Good morning, miss,” a female servant greeted me, bowing deeply.
She spoke Garaian, but I knew enough by now to recognize greetings and a few other phrases.
She was dressed in white, the color of mourning, as I would be soon enough—our hosts had provided stiff, heavy robes for the funeral ceremony that I was very much not looking forward to wearing.
“Good morning,” I replied in Garaian, one of the first expressions I had picked up.
I stepped past her, toward the rows of long tables laden with trays full of strange delicacies, many of which I’d never seen before.
Picking up a plate, I made my way up and down the tables and piled it high with almost everything I saw.
It might be a long time until I returned to Garai, and I might never get to try these particular dishes again.
Every type of meat I had ever tasted was present, as well as some I had not—what was that meat in a red pungent sauce?
—but quite a few of the dishes were completely meatless.
Not a single grain of rice was in sight, which would have surprised me had I not learned in my studies that rice was considered peasant food.
I wondered if eating vegetables by themselves was some weird Garaian custom.
Definitely not the right diet for a shifter like me.
Going by scent, I decided against trying the dark green “thousand-year-old” eggs.
I ended up with three full plates, which I balanced precariously as I took my food to one of the nearby tables and ate.
I devoured everything, then went back for seconds, thirds, and fourths, until I was stuffed.
Director Chen had mentioned that the buffet would be closing down when the funeral began, and that it would not be opened again during the traditional eight days of mourning.
Everyone, even the guests, was supposed to remain secluded and fasting during that period, though we had all brought enough provisions to make the week bearable.
I wonder if fasting applies to the Lion Guard, and shifters in general, I thought.
I wasn’t sure I’d be able to survive a weeklong fast unless I slept through it, and the guards would have to keep up their strength to be effective.
Thank Magorah I wasn’t going to be in Bilai for the mourning period.
Blowing up another Resistance lab was a small price to pay for being allowed to eat warm meals on a regular basis.
With my belly pleasantly full of roast pork, duck, and a whole bunch of things I couldn’t name but had tasted delicious, I headed back to our lodgings in the other pavilion.
The path wound past several guest pavilions on the way back to my own, and as I passed between two of them, the back of my neck began to prickle with awareness. Was someone watching me?
A blade hissed through the air, and I ducked in time to avoid a throwing star winging toward me.
The multi-pointed blade embedded itself in the wall behind me, and I grabbed a chakram from my pouch as three humans dressed in black, their faces covered by masks and hoods, dropped down from seemingly out of nowhere.
I flung my chakram at the first one’s head, but he ducked out of the way with impressive speed, then flung another throwing star at my head.
“Dammit!” I ducked, then rolled aside as the other two attackers charged me with swords. I needed to get out of this narrow alleyway…or did I? Why was I fighting like a street thug? Didn’t I have magic?
Grinning, I sprang to my feet, then shouted a spell that activated a shield around me.
The first swordsman’s blade clashed against the red field of energy, and his eyes widened right before he was thrown back against the pavilion behind him.
Screams came from within, but no one came out to check what was going on.
Cowards. Fed up, I threw my hands out and blasted the other two attackers with fire before they could run away.
They dropped to the ground, shrieking in pain, and began to roll back and forth, trying to extinguish the flames.
Furious, I drew my crescent knives, then grabbed them both by their long hair, one by one, and slit their throats.
Their blood pooled thick and fast beneath them as I tossed their carcasses to the ground, poisoning the peaceful air with the scent of copper and death.
“You,” I growled, turning to the last one, who was struggling to rise. “Who sent you? Why are you trying to kill me?”
A burst of green energy came flying toward me, and the hair along my arms stood on end as the magic barreled straight through my shield, which was only meant to withstand physical weapons.
I managed to duck just before it hit me, but the mage who’d thrown the blast stepped from behind one of the pavilions, and blasted me again.
He was tall and broad-shouldered, but his voluminous black robes and hood disguised every other feature.
Worse, I couldn’t even detect his scent, which meant he was disguising it with magic, as I’d often done myself.
“What is this shit?” I shouted, jumping over the blast and closing the distance between myself and the enemy mage.
He jerked back, an involuntary reaction, and before he could utter another Word, I drew my fist back and punched him in the face.
The force of the blow was compounded by gravity as I landed on my feet, and he went sprawling in the dirt.
“Miss Baine?” Garrett called, and I turned to see him rushing toward me on the path.
A mistake, as the remaining human slashed at me with a knife he must have hidden in his sleeve.
I hissed as the blade sliced my arm open, then whirled back around and grabbed his knife arm.
He screamed as I twisted it back around, and there was a sickening crack as I broke it at the elbow.
He fell to his knees, tears streaming from his eyes, and I brought down the crescent knife in my other hand, intending to end him.
But out of the corner of my eye, I caught a movement from the other mage and turned to see him throw a small dark sphere to the ground.
Purple smoke exploded from it, and I choked as a thick, pungent odor filled the air, clogging my nose and stinging my eyes.
My grasp on the wounded assassin slipped, and I stumbled back from the noxious cloud, desperate to get away so I could clear my senses.
“Miss Baine!” Garrett grabbed me by the shoulders and dragged me away from the acrid smoke.
He released me, magic crackling at his fingertips, and we both waited for the masked mage to emerge from the artificial fog.
But when the smoke cleared, he and the surviving human were gone, leaving behind only the bodies of the two assassins I’d killed.
“Are you all right?” Garrett asked, dropping his hands. The magic at his fingertips faded away. “I was on my way to the buffet when I heard the commotion.”
“I would be fine, if not for this stupid scratch.” Lifting my left arm, I examined the wound.
The flaps of skin were still hanging open, revealing raw flesh underneath, and I grimaced at the pain.
Normally, my flesh would have already started pulling itself back together by now—I’d just eaten, and the full moon had recently come and gone. “Why the fuck isn’t this healing?”
“Here, let me take care of it.” Garrett took my arm, and I hissed as agony exploded up my nerve endings.
He held his free hand above the open wound and spoke a few Words, that I recognized from Iannis and his healing spells.
Pale green magic spilled over the wound, and we both stiffened and grimaced in pain.
I watched in disgust and awe as my ragged skin slowly came back together over my flesh, then fused into an ugly scar.