and tweezed, and picked at, and salved, and massaged, and having strangers chatter things like, ‘Should we emphasize or de-emphasize the surprising and obvious power of his buttocks?’
Torture.
Winsen said, “Me? And embarrass you like that? Your Grace, I am shocked!”
Chapter 6
Hope leaped in Teia like a gazelle from a lion’s grip.
Gavin Guile is alive! And he’s here!
That had to mean that the man with the Hellfang blade was the Old Man of the Desert himself—for who else would the Old Man trust with such a weapon or such a prisoner?
And if that was the Old Man, Teia could follow him from here now and find his lair and his real identity and report to Karris and maybe even find word of where her father was—
But lose Gavin. The former Prism had already boarded the Golden Mean with Captain Gunner. Sailors were preparing the ship to leave immediately.
Teia had made it halfway up the quay, following the Old Man back to the Chromeria, when she saw the Blackguards standing at their posts out back. They either hadn’t been there when she came down or they’d been hidden. Friends! Comrades! She could tell them and—
They saluted the Old Man as he approached.
Not a Blackguard salute. A Braxian salute.
Teia skidded to a stop. They were his.
And the Old Man had known she was coming down here. He’d ordered her to board the ship, after all. That meant those Blackguards were here not for him but for her.
They were here in case she decided to disobey and not board the ship.
Which meant they must be sub-reds. The Old Man trusted no one, especially not his well-nigh-invisible assassins. He was not a man—or woman perhaps, Teia still couldn’t assume—who would hone a blade to razor sharpness and then let it cut his own throat.
Teia’s heart sank like a panting gazelle into the lion’s patient paws.
The Order didn’t know it, but she could defeat sub-red with a sufficiently dense cloud of paryl now. But it was a blustery morning, and a gust of wind would be the death of her.
It would be a huge gamble to try to make it past the traitor Blackguards without being seen.
And Gavin would be lost to the wide sea and whatever desperate mission the Old Man was sending him on. If Teia did make it past these Blackguards, how long would it take her to reach Karris? How long to get her alone so Teia could report the truth?
How could Karris mobilize skimmers without breaking Teia’s cover? There were other Blackguard traitors than these two, Teia knew.
What contingency plans did the Old Man have ready, just in case Gavin were rescued?
He wouldn’t let him be taken alive, would he? No. Gavin had seen him, heard his voice.
There had to be a course here where Teia did everything right and somehow averted disaster, but she was paralyzed. If Gavin left on that ship without her, her father was dead.
I’m seriously considering obeying them again. Her belly filled with sick horror.
She walked back to the ship as in a trance and climbed the gangplank with lead in her shoes.
There was no way out. Her thoughts of defiance had lasted less than two minutes.
Gavin Guile was amidships. The captain was removing his chains.
Teia shuddered with a slave’s visceral revulsion at the fetters. She eyed his wrists, looking for sores as instinctively as another woman might check a man’s fingers for a wedding band. There were none.
Wherever Gavin Guile had been held, he hadn’t been chained. The other possibility—that he might not have fought his chains—was unthinkable. Everyone fights the chains. Most, like Teia, gave up after a few cuts. When your own mother puts you in chains, you think maybe you deserve them.
To her shame, Teia didn’t even have scars on her wrists.
But thinking of that called to mind Ironfist in that terrible room, over the pooled blood of his sister, whom Teia’d just killed. Ironfist, tearing his chains out of the wall in his rage and agony. But even he hadn’t broken his chains, had he?
No one breaks the chains, T. You can only ask to be let out nicely. After you do what they demand.
She didn’t know what she was doing. She should go belowdecks. Hide like she was supposed to do until they were far out to sea. Obey. It was a strain to stay invisible for so long, to be so open and sensitive to the light, which was only swelling by the minute as the sun fingered the