A Plague of Giants (Seven Kennings #1) - Kevin Hearne Page 0,218

large gap between his front two teeth, introduced only as Khaghesh. I did not know if that was his first name or surname, but I did know that I did not trust him.

He did not think very highly of me either. I must have looked terrible, caked in dust and grass from days of walking on the plains. I might have smelled worse than the city—certainly like a horse. He smelled like some Fornish ideal of masculinity, all cloves and vanilla, but I think he had sprayed that on himself to disguise his fondness for onions, which I detected hovering about as well. He lived a pampered existence, wearing boots made of gut goats, and his lip curled in evident disgust. I should probably bathe soon.

“You are a messenger of Viceroy Senesh in Khul Bashab?”

“No, sir. I am an envoy of the Beast Callers.”

“An envoy only, or are you a Beast Caller yourself?”

“I am.”

His sneer communicated his disbelief. “And what proof can you offer of this rumored talent?”

“What proof would satisfy you?”

“I hardly know. There are no beasts here for you to call.”

“Oh, there are plenty, sir.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“There are many insects and spiders in the compound—quite nearby, in fact—and some small rodents as well. If you will agree not to strike at them when they appear, I will ask them to show themselves and do no harm to you or this guard here.”

He stared at me for a moment, then looked all around at the walls and ceilings, searching for insects and the like. They were all hidden at the moment in cracks in the salt-worn masonry.

“Very well, it is agreed,” Khaghesh said. “Make them appear. I will do no harm to them so long as they do not crawl on me.”

I called the insects and spiders and other crawling things forth. They obliged and emerged from various hiding places in the hallway. One was a poisonous hundred-legged wheelmouth with rotary teeth that drilled into flesh and shredded it before sucking down the resulting slurry of meat.

“Ugh!” Khaghesh grunted. “I had no idea there were so many. And you said there were rodents?”

“Near the kitchen. Enjoying the food there.”

His disgust deepened, but his regard improved. Grudging respect, perhaps a small hint of fear in his eyes.

“Understood. Now make them go away again. I liked them better when I couldn’t see them.”

I allowed the creatures to return to their shelters with my thanks.

“Wait here,” the chamberlain said. “I’ll inform the viceroy.”

That left me alone in the hallway with the guard. He looked at me differently now, too.

“The Sixth Kenning is real, then?” he asked. “You control animals?”

“It’s real,” I said. “You saw for yourself just now.”

“So I could seek a kenning. Any one of us could. Just like the Raelechs or the Fornish or whoever.”

“Yes. Just like them.”

The guard shook his head. “I never thought I’d live to see the day.” His teeth flashed at me, and he laughed. “This is amazing.”

Khaghesh reappeared and waved us into the viceroy’s receiving room or whatever he called it. It was wide but even longer, with his throne, a writing desk, and a conversation table set upon a single step that spanned the room and divided the back third from the rest of the room. I still didn’t know the viceroy’s name, but Khaghesh took care of that with a formal introduction and a flourish of his hand: “The viceroy Melishev Lohmet.”

I noticed there were several guards with crossbows posted against the walls on either side. The viceroy himself looked like he could not decide between being fashionable or martial. He wore a silken tunic in red, white, and black but with a saber belted at his side and a pauldron strapped onto his left shoulder with a flared piece designed to protect his neck from blows on that side. The robe did seem bulky and suggested a body far larger than the column of his neck would point to, so I imagined he had significant armor underneath as well. He nodded at me and the guard who’d brought me from the gate, standing in front of his throne with hands clasped in front of him. His eyes narrowed somewhat as he took me in, but he made no obvious signs of disgust as his chamberlain had. Up close I could see that he was sweating, a muscle twitched underneath his left eye, and his expression suggested not calm diplomacy but rather that he was barely holding on to his sanity. I