would not interfere with the king’s chief councillor and mage. And Khandarr was obviously impatient for her to answer. Oh, but it was so hard to break the secrecy of three hundred years, especially to this man.
He is the voice of the king. I must work through him.
Choosing her words carefully, she said, “Leos Dzavek has discovered how to break through Luxa’s Hand—what you call Lir’s Veil. He sent those ships to invade our kingdom.”
Khandarr watched her, his pale eyes unblinking. “Go on.”
“His general took a number of prisoners for questioning, but he left behind most of his troops. I am a member of the court. I requested an audience with your king so we might discuss the possibility of an alliance. I would offer a great deal for safe passage back to my homeland.”
She heard a soft murmur from one of the guards. Joannis leaned closer, his eyes bright with anticipation. Khandarr, however, did not change his expression. “One of the Károvín sailors mentioned an island kingdom before he died,” he said softly. “He died from choking. Another one said the word magic before her throat burst open and she bled to death.”
A chill went through her at this flat recitation of violence. “So you see I’m not lying.”
“Nor have you told me the entire truth. For example, you are a trained mage. The guards tell me you attempted to break free using magic your first night here. And there are traces of your signature in this cell, though you tried to erase them. Did you help the Károvín to break through the barrier? Is that why Leos Dzavek sent ships to Morennioù? You call it an invasion. To me, it looks more like an alliance—”
“There is no alliance,” Valara broke in. “Leos Dzavek sent twenty or thirty ships against Morennioù. He gave them orders to murder the king and—”
She stopped at the eager look on Khandarr’s face.
“And did he?” he asked. “Did he murder the king?”
Valara said nothing. She had already said too much.
“I believe he did,” Khandarr said softly. “So Morennioù’s king is dead, and the barrier no longer quite so formidable. And you, you know far more than you admitted at first. Yes, my king must hear what you have to say, but everything, not just what you choose to reveal. You will not be bound by Leos Dzavek’s spells.”
He raised his right hand and murmured the familiar invocation to magic. The current gathered around his fingers. Another spell and the air crackled with a bright electric charge. She swallowed with difficulty.
“Ei rûf ane gôtter. Ane Toc unde sîn kreft…”
Valara felt her gorge rising. Her tongue, like a creature alive, moved to speak. She clamped her mouth shut, but the magic had gripped her like a hand and was prizing her lips open. “He came … He came because I … because I…”
With an effort, she choked out a spell to counteract his. The current wavered—a temporary reprieve. Khandarr had far more skill than she. Already her mouth was twisting open again. She would tell him about the emerald. He would take it and—
“Wenden dir sîn zoubernisse. Nemen îm der wâr unde kreft. Nemen îm der sprâche.”
With a loud crack, the current rebounded. Khandarr sprang backward, clawing at his throat. Valara scrabbled into the far corner as guards streamed into the cell. Her skin burned with magic; the current bubbled through her veins. Dimly, she heard an uproar. One of the guards shoved her against the wall. His sword was a bright blur of motion; its point stopped inches from her throat and poised to strike.
“Stop! Do not kill her!”
Joannis’s voice broke through the din.
“Get back. Everyone. You, hold the prisoner. Nothing more.”
“But my lord—”
“I said, Nothing more.”
Joannis’s mouth was drawn tight. He looked angry, appalled. With obvious reluctance, the guards retreated from the cell, except for the one who held Valara. He did not loosen his grip, nor did his sword waver.
Joannis knelt by a motionless Khandarr. He touched the man’s throat, ran his fingers over the man’s body, murmuring in Erythandran. A sheen of sweat covered Khandarr’s face, and his skin had turned gray. Valara watched with sick dread. She had tried to stop Khandarr’s magic with her own—that much she remembered—but then her recollection failed. There had been another voice, like an enormous bell, inside her skull. Was it her imagination? Khandarr’s magic?
“Send for the chief surgeon,” Joannis said to the guard captain. “Fetch a litter and carry Lord Khandarr to my quarters.