in the stands as well. As Lady Evara had put it, “They’ll be safer in these fifteen minutes than they are at any other time during the whole Becaran Races.”
Tamra had felt even less reassured after that. The races were never safe.
Squeezed into her hiding place with her was Lady Evara herself, though she was blessedly silent now that the fifteen minutes had begun. Peeking out, they watched Raia and the racer run a lap. At the end of the lap, Raia dismounted and came around to her kehok’s face.
Lady Evara whispered, “What’s she doing now?”
“Talking to him,” Tamra whispered back. Wasn’t that obvious?
“She’s too fond of him,” Lady Evara noted. “You should speak to her about that. Augur Yorbel is right—whatever he used to be, he’s a monster now.”
But Tamra was no longer sure that was true.
Raia backed away from her kehok, then turned and walked slowly down the length of the track. The kehok watched her, motionless.
“Now what’s she doing?”
“Testing her control,” Tamra said. It was similar to the exercise they’d done on Raia’s very first day—call a kehok to her. Clever girl, Tamra thought. If she wanted to make the bait more appealing, separating from the kehok was a smart way to do that. Both of them looked even more vulnerable.
But what if this time the killer decided to target Raia instead of the kehok?
If the enemy hated the emperor-to-be, then targeting the kehok was logical. However, if the enemy hated Tamra or simply wanted to fix the races, then—
“Ooh, what’s this?” Lady Evara clutched Tamra’s arm.
A woman was walking onto the track. Tamra squinted, trying to see who it was. She didn’t appear to be armed, and Raia didn’t look as though she was afraid. “I’m going out there.” Tamra started to stand.
Lady Evara held her back. “See how it unfolds.”
“She could have a knife or—”
“She’s making the universal sign of I’m not going to stab you.” Lady Evara jutted her chin at the track, where the woman was approaching Raia with both hands raised, palms out. The woman halted a few yards away from Raia.
Now that she was closer, Tamra could see—Yes, I know her. Or more accurately, Raia did. “It’s Raia’s mother,” Tamra said flatly.
Lady Evara released her arm. “Maybe you should go out there. Nothing can mess with a person’s head more than family. My dear parents still mess with mine, and they’re dead.”
“Agreed.” Tamra began to move, but Lady Evara caught her arm again.
“Wait, no. Changed my mind. If you go, it wrecks the illusion that Raia’s on her own. The killer won’t show himself. Just wait and watch. Her mother won’t hurt her. Raia’s her ticket to wealth.”
Looking out, Tamra swore that if Raia looked the least bit distressed, even if Raia didn’t signal that she was in danger, she was going out there. I wish I could hear what they’re saying.
Raia walked away from her lion. She felt his eyes on her back, watching her. It was a risk to experiment with how much she could trust him. But with guards watching them from the shadows and Trainer Verlas nearby, she couldn’t think of a better time to test her theory.
He won’t hurt me, and he won’t leave me.
She made it to the end of the track without looking back and turned around. The lion remained where she’d left him. He was still watching her.
She had not used a single command to keep him there. She had merely explained what she wanted him to do. Even now, she wasn’t reaching out to control him, and he wasn’t trying to flee or fight.
This wasn’t how ordinary kehoks behaved.
Smiling, she began to head back to him when she saw a figure walk onto the track. She tensed, and then she saw who it was and tensed some more: Mother.
“I’m training, Mother,” Raia said.
“I heard your trainer isn’t here. You’re just playing.”
“This is private training time. You shouldn’t be here. Why did the guards let you through?” She wondered if Mother had sneaked past them. Or bribed them. Or . . .
“Because I’m your mother! Raia . . .” She took another step toward Raia, and Raia took a step backward. Mother stopped, a healthy distance away. “I want you to know that your father and I deeply regret our behavior. The truth is we were scared about the future. About your future, and about ours. Our fortunes have always been precarious, and when you left the augur school—”