The Whitefire Crossing - By Courtney Schafer Page 0,44

The Alathian Council would treat him no more gently than Ruslan, though doubtless their methods would be less inventive.

Dev’s scowl deepened. “Tell me exactly what Pello did that upset you.” When Kiran hesitated, he added, “It’s important.”

“He...” Blood heated Kiran’s face. In retrospect, revealing himself as a mage over nothing more than a stray touch seemed unbelievably foolish. “He ran a hand through my hair. Then touched my shoulder.”

“Your hair? Of course.” Dev groaned and shook his head. “I’ll bet you a thousand kenets he snagged enough strands that he can scout you with a find-me charm. Plus, now he’ll figure out your hair’s dyed, and the true color.”

Kiran winced, remembering the conversation. Pello hadn’t needed a hair sample to discover that. At least his stolen strands of hair would do the man little good. Lizaveta’s amulet would confound any locator charm with ease.

None of it mattered, in the face of the true danger. Kiran fought to master his fear and think. There had to be a way to salvage the situation and silence Pello. But how, without magic, and without revealing himself to Dev?

Dev eyed him with a jaundiced air. “Let me guess, there’s more bad news,” he said. “What else did Pello find out?”

Kiran’s knuckles whitened in his lap. If ever he were to reveal the truth, now would be the time. No more lies, no more careful evasions...oh, the thought was tempting. But reason triumphed over temptation. Dev would never continue helping him, if he realized the true danger he faced.

Perhaps he might disclose his identity to Dev, but pretend no other mages were involved. No, he’d never succeed in the type of elaborate lie required to keep Dev ignorant of the full truth. If only he possessed Mikail’s stolid-faced, impenetrable calm!

Yet perhaps he could gain Dev’s assistance without risking betrayal. Dev didn’t know about the protection Lizaveta’s amulet afforded.

“My employer is counting on my anonymity in Kost. Now you say Pello can track my movements there?” Kiran let his very real fear show. “He gets more dangerous by the day. We have to do something about him!”

“We are doing something,” Dev said. “Or did you mean, something permanent?” A sharp, mocking grin spread over his face. “Don’t think I haven’t considered it. Want to know why killing Pello is a bad idea?”

Kiran shifted, uneasily. His streamside vow echoed in his ears. “I didn’t mean kill him.” One touch, a dark voice whispered. That’s all it would take...your barriers would stay intact, and you’d be safe. He stifled the thought. Pello would never be so careless as to allow him within touching distance again, anyway.

“Uh-huh.” Dev’s grin remained. “Look, if Pello dies by knife, or charm, or even simply vanishes, the other drovers from Horavin House will insist Meldon investigate, and we’d all end up under truth spell. And trust me, arranging a believable accident for someone as canny as Pello is harder than you’d think. Unless you don’t care who dies along with him.” He gave Kiran a hard, searching look.

“No! That’s not what I want! But...” Kiran floundered to a halt. What did he want, if not Pello’s death? He wanted the last half hour never to have happened. No, he wanted to turn time further back, to the days when Alisa yet lived. When magic was Kiran’s deepest joy, untainted by guilt and death. His throat tightened. Nothing could give him that. And now Pello stood ready to destroy his only hope of escape.

“Pello rattled you hard, and that’ll make any man jumpy,” Dev said. “I know it’s tough on the nerves to play a slow game. But slow and subtle is the best way, here.” He cuffed Kiran’s shoulder. “No need to panic about the hair he grabbed. We’ve got at least a tenday before the convoy’s in striking distance of the border. Plenty of time to set a plan, and I know dozens of ways to fool a find-me.”

Kiran clenched his teeth on a protest. He didn’t dare press any harder, lest Dev suspect he’d kept something back. And Dev was right, a little time yet remained. Enough, perhaps, to first attempt a solution on his own.

He had to stop behaving like the naïve child he’d once been, always relying on others for guidance and protection. He’d have no such luxury in Alathia. The sooner he embraced independence and learned to solve his problems unaided, the better. There had to be a way he could intimidate Pello into silence—the man was too