responsible and found a way to communicate all of that to his rider. “You clever boy,” she murmured. To Trainer Verlas, she said, “The guard, the one he attacked, tried to keep me from testing it.”
Trainer Verlas snarled to the remaining guards, “Who was he? Where did he go?”
One of the guards sputtered, “H-h-he was newly assigned. Came with all the correct paperwork—”
“I suggest you catch him,” Trainer Verlas said, with all the coiled fury of a chained kehok. “And hope the emperor-to-be is lenient about this negligence.”
Two of the guards immediately sprinted through the crowd, leaving one remaining by the cage. Until they returned, Raia swore she’d stay up and guard the lion. She felt herself begin to shake and didn’t know if it was from fear or rage or pride. He tried to hurt—kill!—my lion! But her lion had been too smart for him. Luckily. “I won’t let anyone hurt you,” Raia swore.
Yorbel and Shalla jogged over to join them. “What happened?” Yorbel demanded.
In a low voice, Trainer Verlas explained what had occurred. Raia pressed closer to the cage. As far as she could tell, he looked well. He didn’t seem to have eaten any of the poisoned meat. Somehow he knew. And he was trying to tell me. He’d kept his claws retracted when he pounced. He could have savaged that guard before anyone could stop him. But he didn’t.
“You’re good,” she whispered to him.
He met her eyes with his beautiful, sad golden ones.
“Do you know that?” she asked.
And he, to her shock, nodded his head.
That’s impossible, she thought. Kehoks couldn’t understand concepts like that. Orders, yes. Verbs. A few nouns. But an idea like “good”? Even though she’d always claimed she had a powerful connection with the black lion, she hadn’t thought it was anything like this. And she definitely didn’t think he was this aware a few weeks ago. She wondered if it was possible that his mind was growing.
Or that he was remembering who he used to be.
She wanted to ask him more questions, to see how much he understood about who he was and where he was and what they were trying to do. But there were still too many people around, lingering to see if there was going to be any more drama, gossiping about what they’d seen. She couldn’t let other people know he was different.
But she could know it in her heart. I’m right about him. I know I am. Somehow a piece of him knew what he was and who he had been, or sensed it. Touching the bronze lion pin on her rider’s uniform, she thought of Prince Dar and wished she had a way to tell him that a part of his brother still lived on.
At least until the assassins kill him, Raia thought, her hope dashed once again.
It didn’t even occur to her how close she was to her kehok’s cage—that, if he wanted to, he could have ended her life right then.
Instead, they both stared out into the night, as if they somehow could see their enemies coming.
Chapter 25
Dar hated all the subterfuge. He also hated the musicians he’d hired to obscure his sensitive conversations. Calling today’s contingent of personal guards into his throne room, he paced in front of them. “I have a problem,” he announced.
The head guard bowed. “We live to serve.”
“By the River, I hope not. You should serve to live.” He then winced at himself. That was one of those un-emperor-like statements that always made Zarin laugh, right before his brother would caution him never to say that out loud. “Never mind. My problem is that I wish to consult with my racing team about strategy before the final race tomorrow, without fear that someone will overhear and share with my competitors or use that knowledge to help their bets. But spying on me seems to be everyone’s favorite hobby. Any thoughts on how I can have a chat without feeling as if my every word is being sold to the highest bidder?”
The horrendous music had worked well for a while, but by now most of courtiers had caught onto his trick. A few of them had even showed up holding their own instruments, in the hopes of getting close enough to hear something interesting between the squeaks and squeals. Others simply bribed the musicians.
“Vigilance,” the guard said. “We will ensure no one comes close enough to overhear.”
“So you’ve been only halfheartedly guarding me until now?” Dar knew that wasn’t the