Eye of Truth Page 12

  “They told us they don’t have it, ma’am,” said one of the men who had escorted Zenia and Jev into the capital and this underground warren via a secret passageway under the city wall.

  There were multiple levels of tunnels, some as old as the city itself, and the scent of mildew and the sea permeated them, making Zenia suspect they had been flooded often in the past. Lanterns burned on the walls, and candelabras hung from the ceiling, hundreds of candles shedding their light. They didn’t do that much to brighten the vast room, and Zenia had trouble guessing Iridium’s age. Assuming this was she. She hadn’t introduced herself, but a runner had gone ahead, and then she’d been waiting here on the throne when her people led Zenia and Jev in. She matched the description Zenia had previously heard of the woman.

  “They told you?” Iridium’s fingers halted their drumming. “Did you check?”

  “Uhm, no, but your assassins…” The man trailed off and looked around, but the two black-clad figures had disappeared.

  Zenia frowned. She hadn’t noticed them leave. They’d been with the group most of the way, which was part of why she hadn’t tried anything. Also, her weapon had been taken, and Jev had lost the rifle he’d acquired. Besides, he’d orchestrated this meeting, so he presumably wanted to talk to this woman.

  “They would have known, right?” the man asked, his voice turning squeaky. He cleared it and glanced at his cohorts. For moral support?

  “Hm,” Iridium said.

  Her gaze turned toward Jev and Zenia. She looked them up and down. Zenia, her robe cold and sodden as it clung to her body, felt like a bedraggled owl pellet abandoned on a barn floor.

  “Zyndar Jevlain Dharrow, is it?” Iridium asked.

  “Yes.” He was scrutinizing her as much as she was him. “And you are?”

  “Your captor.” Iridium tilted her head. “Would your father pay to have you returned? And if so, how much?”

  “It depends. How much longer am I likely to live if I imply he’d pay a handsome ransom?”

  “At least six hours, I should think.”

  “A small eternity.”

  Iridium smirked and looked him up and down again. “Much can be done in a small eternity.”

  Zenia blinked. Was she implying sex? Jev was just as bedraggled as Zenia. More so with that shaggy hair and beard. The dip in the river had taken away the stink, but with leaves and grass sticking to his clothes, he didn’t look overly desirable.

  “Remove your clothes,” Iridium told Jev, then waved a dismissive hand at Zenia. “Both of you.”

  “So your people can search them, or so you can ogle our nakedness?” Jev asked.

  “That depends on how worthy your nakedness is of ogling.” She waved at the men.

  They pointed guns at both of them, though all their interest turned toward Zenia. She grimaced. Iridium might want to ogle Jev, but Zenia knew she’d have plenty of attention she didn’t want.

  She looked at him. How had she let herself get into this situation? What would Archmage Sazshen think?

  She found Jev looking back at her, his expression apologetic.

  “Sorry,” he mouthed.

  He held her gaze for a moment, but someone waved a gun, and he looked away. He unfastened and unbuckled his clothing, the same army uniform he’d been wearing all day.

  A man behind Zenia cleared his throat to imply she should be doing the same thing. She thought about resisting, but these oafs might like it too much if they had to force her to remove her clothes. Besides, Jev was flirting with Iridium, or whatever one called it, and she seemed receptive to it. More than that, she’d been the instigator. Maybe something would come of it. If nothing else, they might learn why the guild wanted the same artifact that the Water Order wanted. And for that matter, Zenia wondered why the Order wanted it. As an inquisitor, she was supposed to dutifully complete her assignments without asking unnecessary questions, but she wished she’d asked a few.

  Jev finished undressing first, dropping his wet boots to the floor with thuds. Zenia glanced over, more at the noise than at any interest in seeing him naked, but she immediately glanced back. More than glanced. The dirty, ripped uniform had hidden a beautifully muscled form. A few knots of scar tissue marred his flesh here and there, but they didn’t detract from an athletic masculinity that Rhi would have drooled all over.

  A chuckle came from the throne. “It seems the mighty inquisitor would like to spend a small eternity with you too, Zyndar.”

  Fiery lava scorched Zenia’s cheeks. “I would not. I was just looking at… He’s injured.” She pointed to the fresh gouge on his shoulder, though she’d been looking elsewhere and hadn’t noticed it until that second.

  Now that she saw the red gash, she remembered Jev being shot and falling off the wagon bench. A rush of guilt washed over her. In the chaos that had come after the shooting, she’d forgotten he had been hit. She had dragged him all over the countryside without even asking if he was all right. It looked like the bullet had only cut through the outside of his shoulder on the way past, but it still had to hurt.

  “Indeed,” Iridium said. “As a good disciple of the Air Order, I shall take it upon myself to see him healed.” She drew a dragon tear on a thong out from under the lavish silks she wore.

  At first, Zenia thought it was her own stolen gem, but a different image was carved into the front of this one. She was too far away to make out the finer details, but it looked like a dagger or sword. Fitting for some criminal mastermind. Or whatever she fancied herself. Iridium would have to be deadly in some manner or another to lead all these men, even if she had used her sexual wiles to get close and murder the old guild leader. She wouldn’t have kept the position if she wasn’t able.

  “Fortunate for me,” Jev said. “I do enjoy it when warrior women heal me.”

  Zenia doubted Iridium could wrap a bandage around a log, much less use her dragon tear to heal someone.

  “That is fortunate for you then.” Iridium waved at one of the men. “Search his clothes for the artifact.” Her gaze shifted toward Zenia, and she flicked her fingers. “Finish undressing. You’ll be searched too. And then, Jorgot, take her to a cell while I contemplate whether it’s better for the world if she disappears or if she might have some value to us.”

  Zenia kept her face neutral as Iridium stroked her chin thoughtfully. She knew better than to show alarm. She reminded herself that she’d captured numerous criminals over the years, and she could figure out a way to escape if she was given some time. Admittedly, she usually solved cases from the comfort of her office in the temple, and when she did go out into the city to capture someone, she had a bodyguard along and watchmen that she could requisition at any time.

  “Have you offended Brick of the Future Order at all?” Iridium asked. “I need something from him, and if you’ve had some of his people arrested, he may enjoy acquiring you. Have you heard of his torture chamber? I hear that it’s lovely and that he particularly enjoys hosting women there.” She smirked.

  Zenia had heard of the Future Order leader’s torture chamber and had to stifle the urge to shudder. This could be an opportunity. If Iridium wanted to trade her, she would keep Zenia alive, at least for now.

  “It’s a large guild, is it not?” Zenia asked. “I’m certain I’ve captured some of his minions.”

  Jev frowned at her, then told Iridium, “I’d think it would be useful to have an inquisitor indebted to you.”

  “Indebted?” Iridium asked.

  Zenia almost asked the same question, but she caught the gist of Jev’s comment right away. Unfortunately.

  “If you were to spare her life and let her go, wouldn’t she naturally be grateful?” Jev asked. “Perhaps she could become an inside resource in the Water Order Temple that you could tap for information and favors now and then.”

  Zenia gritted her teeth and clenched her fists. She knew Jev was trying to help her—and she wasn’t unappreciative—but the very idea that she would trample all over her int
egrity and her vow to the temple to help some criminal overlord… He would never suggest he would do such a thing, she was certain.

  “I don’t think you know your traveling companion that well,” Iridium said dryly, looking over at Zenia.

  Zenia forced her fingers open, fearing she’d given away her feelings on the matter with her body language. Though it sounded like Iridium already knew her reputation.

  “Inquisitor Zenia Cham is no friend to the underworld guilds,” Iridium added. “Some of my colleagues have tried to bribe her and court her favor before, and most of them ended up in a dungeon somewhere, courtesy of her ferreting them out. She sticks her nose up in the air and pretends she’s above all of us.” Iridium examined her polished nails. “No doubt because some zyndar mounted her mother, she thinks she’s not some common wench, but being a bastard doesn’t make her any better than the rest of us. My parents both acknowledged me and loved me.” She smiled viciously at Zenia.

  “Which is why you came out so charming and well adjusted?” Jev cocked an eyebrow.

  Zenia barely noticed it as she struggled to bring that neutrality back to her face. The turn this conversation had taken alarmed her, especially with Jev standing next to her to hear Iridium’s words. Zenia didn’t tell anyone who her father was—it wasn’t as if he remembered her or had ever cared about her mother—and it horrified her that criminals knew all about her heritage. All about her.

  “Precisely so,” Iridium said, still smiling at Zenia.

  Jev shrugged and stepped toward Iridium—trying to draw her attention to him? “I suppose I can’t speak for her, but people with high morals occasionally change their stances when they’re no longer in a comfortable place from which to practice them. Impending torture and death have a tendency to make people’s morals and beliefs pliable.”

  “Yes, I’ve noticed that myself.” Iridium tilted her head, regarding him with interest again. “You came back from the war recently, didn’t you? I imagine you were in positions to see that yourself.”

  “I was,” Jev said quietly, the words hard to read. “Let’s talk, shall we? I have things I can offer you in exchange for our freedom.”

  “Do you?” Iridium looked him up and down, her gaze lingering on his penis.

  “Many things. For instance, if you let Inquisitor Cham go, I would be willing to work with you to find this Eye of Truth. I have some ideas about where it may be located. Of course, you’d have to protect me as we went looking for it. The inquisitor has been trying to arrest me all day, and I’m sure she won’t appreciate me working with you.”

  Zenia narrowed her eyes at him. Even though she doubted his vaunted zyndar honor would allow him to help a criminal find the artifact, she didn’t like his negotiation tactics. She didn’t want to be parted from him. He was her prisoner and her only lead on the artifact.

  “If you knew where it was, you would have retrieved it already. I admit I’m surprised you didn’t have it on you.” Iridium waved to his pile of soggy clothing.

  “Perhaps, knowing Inquisitor Cham was coming to look for me, I hid it somewhere in Dharrow Castle.”

  “If it’s there, it should be easy enough to find.”

  “My father is unlikely to give you an invitation inside.”

  “No?” Iridium ran her fingernails across her chest, following the curve of one breast. “What makes you so sure?”

  “He’s focused and not easily distractible. And definitely not pliable.”

  “Nonetheless, I think I know enough to find this artifact without you.”

  “Why do you want it?” Zenia asked.

  “I suppose I can think of other things to do with you though.” Iridium ignored Zenia and gave Jev another scrutinizing look.

  One of her men near the door sighed and rolled his eyes. She frowned at him. He straightened his face—and his back.

  “There are other things I could offer.” Jev pointed at her necklace. “I see you understand the value of dragon tears.”

  “Of course. Who doesn’t?”

  “My family has several of them.”

  “Does it?” Iridium tapped her fingernail to her chin, then slid off her throne. “How many?”

  “Enough that I could barter one. I’ll inherit them all eventually. In the meantime, my father wouldn’t miss one.”

  “You’re only offering one?” Iridium circled Jev, examining him from all sides.

  Jev stood calmly, not trying to hide anything. “They’re extremely valuable. Surely one dragon tear is a fair trade for a person’s life.”

  Zenia didn’t like being ignored, but she made herself keep her mouth shut. She might more easily escape later if Jev held the woman’s attention and Zenia was tossed into a cell somewhere as an afterthought.

  Still, Iridium’s focus on Jev’s naked form irritated her. She didn’t know why, but the idea of this woman dragging him off for some sexual interrogation made Zenia want to punch her.

  Iridium caught her glowering at them and smirked again. She flicked her finger at the two men closest to Zenia.

  “Undress,” one said, stepping close to prod her in the shoulder. “Unless you want me to do it for you.”

  Zenia had already unfastened her robe, so it was a simple matter to slip out of it and drop it on the floor. She tried not to see symbolism in discarding the garment that marked her as an inquisitor of the Water Order. As someone of import. This was temporary only. She would retrieve her clothing and her dragon tear.

  As soon as she dropped her robe and chemise, the men gathered the items and poked through them, investigating the inner pockets. Another man went through Jev’s clothes.

  “I admit I’d be more interested in negotiating with you if you were more excited about the prospect,” Iridium told Jev, glancing at his crotch again as she scraped one of her nails down his bare arm.

  “Crowds don’t get me excited,” Jev said.

  “But women do? It would be disappointing if that weren’t the case.”

  “I like women just fine.”

  “Excellent. We’ll check your excitement levels soon. After you shave and trim this, I think.” Iridium flicked his shaggy locks with her free hand. “We’ll spend some private time together just as soon as I send a couple of runners off with messages. One to the Future Order, I believe. I—”

  “—in a meeting,” came a raised voice from the corridor.

  A thump sounded, followed by an angry snarl and another thump.

  A stout bearded dwarf stomped through the doorway. He stalked inside, barely glancing at Zenia and Jev, then planted himself in front of Iridium.

  Or was that… herself? The dwarf had a chest, and Zenia didn’t think pectoral muscles accounted for the curvature.

  With a start, she realized who this was. Arkura Grindmor, the city’s master gem cutter. Why would she be visiting the leader of a criminal organization?

  “Arkura,” Iridium purred, neither looking surprised by the dwarf’s appearance nor alarmed by the man who ran in after her, clutching a hand to his chest and grimacing. “What brings you to visit so late?”

  “Sorry, Mistress Iridium,” the man blurted. “She wouldn’t wait. I…” The man frowned and held up the twisted barrel of a pistol that looked like it had spent an hour in a furnace. “She bent my gun.”

  “Her sexy beard wasn’t enough to inspire you to keep it straight and erect?”

  “Uh, what?”

  Iridium waved dismissively at him. “Go back to your post.”

  “You know well what brings me to visit.” Arkura propped her fists on her hips. “My diamond tools. You said one more favor, and you’d be able to negotiate for them with your rival. I’m this close to bringing down your entire damn den.” She scowled and jerked her head toward the ceiling.

  “I assure you I’ve been working to locate your tools. It’s a delicate matter to dance with the other guild leaders. I need to make sure the person I think has them has them before I start negotiations.”

  “Yo
u said you had the power to find them and take them.”

  “Yes, of course I do. Once I’m positive where they are, then I’ll use all my resources to retrieve them for you. I do appreciate the favors you’ve done for me thus far, and you have my gratitude.”

  “I don’t want your gratitude. I want my tools back. My grammy gave those to me, handed down for generations. Blessed by the White Dragon Founder himself. They’re more powerful than anything my people can make now.”

  “I think I know where those golems came from,” Jev whispered to Zenia, his bare shoulder brushing hers.

  Zenia nodded. She’d been thinking the same thing. She was surprised Arkura would admit the value of her lost items—or were they stolen items?—to some criminal overlord, but dwarves were known for being blunt and honest. And getting impatient with those who weren’t.

  How ever had she ended up coming to Iridium for help? Or had Iridium come to her and offered it? If so, how had she known the dwarf was in need of help? Zenia hadn’t heard anything about the disappearance of the tools, and Master Grindmor was a notable person in the city. If she’d reported a theft, the newspapers would have mentioned it.

  “Maybe she’d like to make a golem for us,” Jev murmured.

  Iridium frowned over at him, though she couldn’t have heard the whisper. “Jorgot, take the zyndar to my room and stick our inquisitor in a well-guarded cell while I send a message to Brick and see if he’s willing to pay for the honor of hosting her in his infamous abode.”

  A hand gripped Zenia’s elbow from behind.

  “Master Grindmor?” Jev stepped away from the guard reaching for him and turned the motion into a smooth bow toward the gem cutter. He smiled and spoke in dwarfish. Very rapid dwarfish. Zenia couldn’t understand a lick of it, though she thought she caught the name of the future king in there, Targyon.