This was too specific to be an accident. Either it was a side effect of the poison or she’d been drugged. If she’d been drugged, then her captors knew about her magic and had the means to counter it.
She carefully searched the little room for a weapon but found nothing except the two buckets. After drinking again, she stood and pounded on the door, then stepped back and waited. There was some commotion from beyond, then the door opened. A swarthy-looking man, muscles toned from routine exertion, stood in the doorway and appraised her.
“You’re a prisoner of the House of Karth,” he said. “If you try to escape, you’ll be killed. Otherwise, we’ll treat you honorably.”
Isabel quickly assessed her options and decided that attempting escape right now was unwise. She needed more information about her captors before she chose a course of action.
“Very well,” she said. “I wouldn’t know which way to run anyway.”
The guard cocked his head quizzically, as if he hadn’t expected her response.
“Can I have something to eat?” she asked.
He nodded, motioning to the table occupying the center of the guard chamber. A tray with a variety of tubers, berries, and fruits sat on the table, the remnants of the guards’ meal.
Isabel wasn’t bashful. From the grumbling in her stomach, she suspected she’d been unconscious for days rather than hours. The food was surprisingly good, but before she’d eaten her fill, another man entered, followed by the third guard.
This man was tall, easily over six feet, but not muscular like the guards. He was lithe and wiry as if he’d spent his days moving through the jungle. His hair was jet black, his complexion golden brown, and his eyes were dark and brooding. With a gesture, he dismissed the guards and sat down opposite Isabel, absentmindedly selecting a piece of fruit from the tray as he scrutinized his prisoner.
She held his gaze for a moment and then went back to eating. For several moments neither said a word, they simply shared a meal in silence. Once he’d finished his piece of fruit, he took a drink from a nearby flagon and sat forward.
“I am Trajan Karth. My father has summoned you. It will be a journey of several days. If you attempt to escape, you will be killed.”
“Yeah, I got that,” Isabel said around a mouthful of food.
He smiled curiously. “I would know why you have been summoned.”
Isabel shrugged as she took another tuber from the plate. It had the texture of a sweet potato but wasn’t quite as rich.
“Perhaps if you told me your name, it would shed some light on my father’s interest in you.”
This time it was Isabel’s turn to smile, though without any hint of humor. “I’m Isabel Reishi,” she said, punctuating her statement by taking a big bite of tuber.
Trajan’s eyes narrowed and he tensed ever so slightly, like a cat preparing to pounce. “I wasn’t aware that Phane had taken a woman,” he said.
“Oh, he hasn’t, or at least he certainly hasn’t taken me,” Isabel said, washing her mouthful down with a long drink of warm ale from the nearest flagon. “My husband is Alexander Reishi, formerly Alexander Ruatha. From the looks of things, your father didn’t get the warning Alexander sent him in his dreams.”
Trajan had been listening intently, clearly trying to discern the veracity of her words. His eyes went wide.
“My father did receive a warning,” he said, “but he chose not to heed it until it was too late. My mother, two brothers, and a sister were lost in that attack, an attack that my father said could never happen. Fortunately, Erastus, our house man-at-arms, was paranoid enough to make preparations, and my father, sister, and I survived.”
Isabel looked down at the table and nodded sadly. “I’m sorry for your loss,” she whispered. “There’s been too much suffering since Phane woke.”
“On that count we agree,” Trajan said, “but I’m still confused by a great many things. Why were you with Phane’s men if your husband sent us warning against him?”
“My husband and I are at war with Phane,” Isabel said. “But, for a number of reasons, Phane believes that I’ve turned against Alexander, so he’s issued orders that I’m to be treated with respect and brought before him.”
“And then what?”
“And then I intend to kill him,” Isabel said.
Trajan stared incredulously, then burst out laughing.
“I hate Phane as much as anyone,” he said, once he’d contained his mirthless laughter, “but I’m not fool enough to believe he would let