Sahid withdrew from my side, plainly relieved to have accomplished his duty without complications this time.
I was alone with Lady Iltara. The gentle night breeze of the dream-city played happily at the pretty torches that ringed this overlook. She sat upon her throne. A high, winged headdress in gold leaf sat upon her head, and a death-black gown hung from her shoulders, belted neatly at her hips.
Her nails dug ruts into the gilded armrests of the throne.
“What do you have to say for yourself before I sentence you to death?” she said, lifting her chin slightly to better look down upon me.
I paused to choose my words. “I suppose Hester made off with the tome. And with Gena.”
“Do not play dumb.”
“Oh, I’m not.” I grinned. “That was everything I had hoped. How did it happen?”
“Easily, I am told. The scholar cast the spell from within the sunlight realm, of course. The knight needed only to locate her and hurry with her out the nearest gate. Amenem tells me they were spotted traveling west with the inquisitors.”
“He must’ve done it at the peak of the storm. Well done, Hester,” I mused.
“You planned it yourself, yes? So, you are to be executed.”
“Well, think.” In a day of wild gambits and desperate measures, it seemed only fitting that I would try one more before dying. “I planned it myself, yes?”
“I just said that.”
“My point being that I can be useful for planning a great many things. You lost the scholar. Perhaps you would like to gain a wizard.”
“You insolent…”
“… intelligent…”
“… untrustworthy…”
“… capable…”
“… fool.”
“… wizard!”
Lady Iltara paused. “Apprentice?”
“Not any more, no.”
She shrugged. “I am not so proud that I fail to see when I’ve lost. But I am proud enough not to suffer fools and liars. You die tonight.”
“Before you do that, know a few things,” I hastened to add. “If you believe you have lost here, then you perish when the king marches. But it may not be so. Awaken the city. Build its strength and add it to your own. Add my strength to your own. And if it all goes wrong and the king prevails, maybe then you can behead me as one final comfort at the end of your reign.”
“I prefer death by cobras.”
I shuddered.
“Perhaps I could negotiate the release of Seneseret and and Duhan. I believe you know them as my ‘goons’. If snakes are not to your liking, we might give them the honor.”
“Nope! That’s fine. Death by snakes sounds splendid,” I lied. “Kill me with snakes then. Save it for then. Let me serve you now.”
She laughed. I hoped that was a flavor of true mirth I detected beneath all the venom. “Amusing though that thought may be, I cannot trust you.”
“You can. I can prove it.”
“Are you going to regale me with tales about how loyal you were to the knight and the scholar? Spare me.”
“Then I shall spare you. I’ll skip the tales. Take my oath. You know the one.”
One of her eyebrows arced in deep suspicion. I had to keep from cheering out loud right in front of her.
I had hooked her. I was going to live to see another sunrise.
“The Court Wizard’s Oath,” she said. “I did not expect to ever be offered such a thing.”
“Akabu Ai taught me the Communion spells. I can cast it right this moment. My knowledge bound to your will,” I said.
“And my will bound to your knowledge,” she murmured. She stood and took a few steps closer to me. “Curious. So you can prove that I could trust you. But should I expect you to trust me? You have not, thus far. I cannot have a doubter, a naysayer in my court.”
“Well, of course the spell protects me from betrayal much the same way it protects you, so I can trust you not to simply discard me. But beyond that…” I took a breath. “I have but to trust myself, no? My knowledge goes into the binding. You will know what I know. When you know what I know about the world… will you still need to do things such as you have done? Manipulate people? Steal weapons? Murder librarians?”
An evil smile crept across her beautiful face. “We will see, won’t we?”