Page 159 of The Stolen Throne
“Now the king does his magic,” Vos says on a wheeze. The short journey here has visibly taxed him. This close, I can see the fine sheen of sweat across his upper lip.
“When does it happen?”
Horus puts a finger to his lips a second before the barmaid appears and plunks an amber-colored drink with a frothy top to it on the table in front of me. Right. The “no strangers allowed” thing, especially while we have to be out here in the open, is proving tricky.
She smiles. Beautifully tall and slender with those lush breasts and breathtakingly smooth walnut skin set off by the copper of her mask carved with…goddess, her mask is two people coming together in a way that is impossible to unsee. Or unfeel. My body, despite my crossing my legs, responds to the suggestive image. That kiss earlier, still fresh, doesn’t help.
Her grin turns lascivious, though the way her head is angled I’m pretty sure she’s eyeing Reven through that mask of hers. She puts her hands on the table, leaning in unmistakably toward him, and my jaw drops as I realize that her top is nearly sheer, to the point that it’s easy to make out the dusky tips of her breasts. “Can I get you anything else, love?”
I sit forward abruptly, shoving my face between her and Reven. “Nope.”
The barmaid straightens slowly, lips drawing into an uncaring smirk before she saunters away, hips swaying. If she knows what’s good for her, she won’t saunter back this way again. Send someone else.
“Jealousy,” Vos tsks. “Fun to watch, not so fun to live.” There’s a waver in his voice that sounds like laughter, and I swing a glare at him, only to get a lazy grin from under his mask.
Reven picks up my glass and takes a sip before setting it closer to me, and I look at him with raised eyebrows.
Cain, sitting on my other side, leans back and eyes Reven. “You seriously expect them to poison her here?”
Hard to tell behind his mask, but Reven’s expression doesn’t alter even a little. Which means that’s exactly what he was doing.
Cain stretches one arm across the back of my chair and tips closer to me with a conspiratorial grin. “That’s taking that protective thing a bit far, don’t you think, Mer?”
The shadows in our booth flicker.
Cain’s smile widens as he turns to face me alone. “What did you think of the Sacred Tree of Aryd?”
Now he’s just trying to get himself shadowed somewhere deadly.
He glances around the group, though I know he’s aiming this at Reven. “We always said we would see the six sacred trees together. Meren’s been fascinated since she was a little girl. I want to—”
“But we didn’t get to do that,” I rush to cut off what I think he was about to say.
Something about wanting us to marry there is my guess. Goddess grant me patience. I think it’s time for a change of subject.
Is it safe to discuss here? Because of the way we’re tucked into the corner, no one should be able to overhear as long as we’re careful.
I clear my throat. “I got the answer we needed from the burning lands.”
68
What the
Dead Told Me
The announcement hangs heavy around us. Everyone turns serious, leaning forward in their seats, except Omma and Tabra. They already know. Well, that and Tabra’s practically asleep with her head on the table. I run a finger over the flat head of my signet ring.
Horus glances over his shoulder, taking in the room like I did. “Keep your voices low.”
I nod. “I spoke with a…spirit.” The who is important, but I don’t want his message lost first. “I know how to get the other three amulets.”
“Holy hells,” Horus says.
Tziah rapidly signs something along the lines of how I should have told them that first thing.
“There was a lot to cover,” Omma points out in a dry voice. Standing up for me for once?
Pella taps her drink on the table. “So what did this spirit say?”
