her movements as quiet as she could, she moved across the row to the far side, to press against the crates there. If she strained, she could hear Kord moving slowly down the row of
crates, within a long arm's reach, now, but even more, she could sense him against her, the churning muck of his ugly emotions. It drew even with her, and she held her breath as it crept on past, the pressure on her senses slowly changing, as though something warm and moist brushed over her left cheek, then her mouth, then her right cheek, as Kord crept past.
But he hesitated there, and Isana held her own position. Had he sensed her, somehow? Did he know she was there?
"Smell you," Kord murmured, his voice very close. "Smell you. Smells good. Makes me hungry."
Isana held her breath.
He moved, sudden and fast, the sense of him flashing across her cheek, mouth, cheek again, as he moved back toward the door. She lost him after only a second. He had moved beyond the range of what her crafting could feel.
But it came to her, suddenly, that she had a weapon he did not. His fury might be able to lend him tremendous strength, but he would not be able to use it to see. His power could reach no farther than his own fingers. But she could use her own crafting to locate him, even in the total darkness, if her reach had been longer. How could she extend it?
By provoking him, she realized. By stoking his emotions to a brighter blaze, he would radiate them more strongly, make himself more easy to sense. Dangerous plan, indeed. But if she could pinpoint where he was, she could slip past him to the door and go for help.
She moved, first, back to the far end of the rows, picking another at random, before she started down it and lifted her voice again. "Do you know how we escaped, Kord?"
Kord let out a growling sound, now several yards away. "Some damn fool didn't patch the roof right."
"Were you too drunk to remember?" Isana taunted, gently. "You sent Aric to patch that roof."
"No," Kord growled. "Wouldn't do that."
"You did. You hit his face right there in front of me and made him."
Kord's voice answered, harsher, panting, moving closer. "Happens. It happens. I get mad. He understands."
"No he doesn't, Kord," Isana said, even more quietly. "He helped us escape. He made holes in the roof so that meltwater would run in and give us our crafting back."
"Lying bitch!" Kord snarled His fist lashed out against one of the crates, and the solid wooden staves of its side broke with a heavy crunch At the same time, fighting erupted from very nearby, somewhere just outside the warehouse, in the courtyard itself
"He hates you, Kord Did he come with you? Is he here helping you? You've got no sons, now, Kord Nothing to come after you Bittan is dead, and Aric despises you "
"Shut up," howled Kord "Shut up before I break your lying head!"
And the sense of his anger, his mad, blazing rage, abruptly washed through the warehouse Isana pleaded silently with Rill to leave her even more open than usual to the emotions
She felt him Exactly where that rage was Ten feet away, on the next row of crates, and pacing swiftly toward her Isana moved silently, trying to get past him and back to the door, but as she came even with him one row over, his steps stopped and he started reversing them toward the door
"Oh no," he growled "No, that's a trick Make me mad and make me come chase you, then you run while I find that slave bitch and break her bitch neck and you get away No, no You aren't smarter than me "
Isana paced him silently, frustrated, unsure of how near she had to be to make him remain within the circle of her senses She kept the row of crates between them, until they came to the end
Kord stopped, and she felt the surge of hope and lust in him as well, as he inhaled through his nose "Smell you, Isana Smell your sweat You're scared " She heard his knuckles crack He stood opposite her, standing while she crouched She reached out her hand and felt the stack of crates that was between them, one, two, three, four high, at least
"Smell you," Kord purred "You're close Where are you"?"