The Ritual (11 page)

“I do feel a little better,” I murmured, steeling myself for what I was about to do next. “But it is still so oppressive here… All these people…” I trailed off and gave him my most suggestive look, fluttering my lashes at him.

His expression changed, going from concern to calculating, then to lust. I lowered my eyes, trying to swallow away my revulsion, and took a deep, calming breath as he closed his fingers around my arm and led me away.

“Please, dear Roniel, allow me to take you somewhere where you can recover fully,” he said, but his voice no longer matched the glib politeness of his words, and I nearly stumbled as I followed. A quick glance over my shoulder confirmed that Zashter trailed after me, and I found myself inordinately glad that I had asked him to stay with me.

Haster didn’t even seem to notice him – slaves were as good as invisible even under normal circumstances – and his presence didn’t stop the duke from jumping me the moment we stepped into the room he had led me to. His mouth closed over mine and his hands delved into my cleavage, and it took all I had not to vomit in his face. Instead I faked a moan, wrapped my arms around his neck, and while he slobbered his way down my throat and onto my breasts I carefully started pulling at the chain around his neck that held the little cabinet key.

It was the most horrific thing I had ever had to do in my life, and I needed all my willpower to take it slow, to continue to be careful. He spent a while sucking on my nipples with little grunting noises, but then he raised his head and came out of his undivided interest in my body, probably because any further response from me was lacking, so with a small whimper I placed my hand over the bulge in his trousers to distract him again. He groaned and ground into my hand, but by then I had managed to extricate the key, and with something akin to desperation I tried to slip the soap out of my sleeve just as Haster began to pull up my skirt.

I thanked the Gods – and Zashter – for the volume of my dress; as he was fighting his way through the layers of fabric I firmly pressed the key into the soft soap, then turned both around and did it again. I palmed the soap back into my sleeve, slid the key back into his collar and let myself go limp, pretending to faint and bracing myself for the impact on the floor.

Instead I felt two strong arms catch me and pull me against a warm, solid body which smelled achingly familiar. I let my head loll back, but before the headdress could slip off Zashter repositioned me so I was resting against his shoulder, and I remained as limp as I dared. Haster, meanwhile, was blustering in thwarted lust. “What in the name of the Gods…?” he spluttered, still panting heavily.

“
Lady Roniel is very delicate,” Zashter murmured, putting a hint of fear in his voice. “Your grace’s virility… It was too much for her.”

The comment was sheer genius, possibly the only thing that could placate the duke’s frustration. I feared that he would still try to force me, or that he might take out his anger on Zashter, but I heard his breathing steady before he growled, “Useless blasted woman,” and stomped out of the room.

The moment I heard the door slam shut I surged upright and frantically started to pull my clothes back into place. Haster had managed to lift my breasts free, and I dreaded to see Zashter’s mocking eyes as I had to sort myself out. As a result I kept plucking at the fabric long after I had put my dress back to rights, until I felt his fingers lift my chin. I steeled myself and met his gaze, and drowned in velvet eyes full of unexpected concern.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his fingers sliding further until he cupped my jaw. I nodded in confusion and he gave me a brief smile and a featherlight brush across my cheek with his thumb. “You’ve done what you needed to? Want to get out of here?”

I nodded again, more emphatically this time, glad that he didn’t yet ask about what it was that I had actually done. Then again, maybe he had seen it – I didn’t know. All I knew was that I was sick and tired of being here, of being around elves in a dress that I hated, and that I wanted to vomit the taste of elf-saliva out of my mouth.

Zashter looked at the door, then back at me, and seemed to make a decision. “I think it’s probably best if you pretend
you’ve not come to yet. You alright with that?”

For the third time I nodded, still not trusting my voice, and he lifted me up as if I weighed nothing, settling my head against his shoulder. I was glad that I had to feign unconsciousness, for the desire to snuggle up to him was overwhelming, and I knew I would not be able to look at him without giving my feelings away. I heard the murmur of voices as he carried me through the ballroom, Shani’s startled exclamation before she grabbed my hand, and then we left it all behind, moving through the corridors until I felt the cool night air on my face, and smelled the heady fragrance of jasmine and honeysuckle once more.

I was placed in a carriage and gave a sigh of disappointment when Zashter gently leaned me against my sister, then took his hands away. Only when I had felt the carriage take three turns into various streets did I dare open my eyes.

I met Shani’s, dark with worry, and gave her a wan smile. She smiled back, relieved, then flicked her eyes to the driver, and I gave a small nod, knowing that we couldn’t talk until we were alone again.

It took a quarter measure to reach the elven district, where we alighted. We slipped into a side street as the carriage rattled off, and the first thing I did was tear off the headdress.

“So what happened then?” Shani asked. “Tell me!”

“You did something,” Zashter said, looking at me pensively. “I couldn’t quite see what, but you did something to him while he was pawing at you.”

Shani’s eyes widened in shock and I retched at the memory, only barely managing to swallow all the dainty tidbits back down. “Don’t remind me of that, please,” I groaned. “I’ll need lye just to wash his saliva out of my mouth.” Then I remembered what I had done it for, dug into my sleeve and produced the bar of soap, still fighting down nausea as I held it out to Zashter.

He stared at it for a heartbeat, then his mouth fell open and he took it, cradling it in his hands. “Mennia’s Mercy, is that what you were doing?” He looked at me, his eyes shining. “You’re a genius, you know that?”

“I… I just…” I stammered, then trailed off as he pocketed the soap, took a step closer to me and cupped my face again.

“I had no idea what you were up to,” he said quietly. “I just thought that what you were doing was the bravest, most distasteful thing I’ve ever seen anyone do.”

“Distasteful, yes,” I agreed with a nervous giggle, lost in his eyes again. “It still is… I wish I could get his taste out of my mouth.”

“Maybe I can help,” he murmured, and then he kissed me.

The contrast with Haster was staggering. Zashter’s lips were as soft as I had imagined them to be, and my banked desire for him flared up like he had tossed oil onto its fire. He ran his tongue past my lips, but I had already tilted my head and opened my mouth, and I sucked it towards mine so I could taste him instead. I dimly registered his arms sliding around me, and then he pulled me tightly against him.

He deepened the kiss further and I slid my fingers into his hair, hanging on to him for dear life as my blood started to pound. The soft sound of pleasure he made in the back of his throat caused a flush of moisture between my legs and turned my knees to water so that I had to cling to him or slide to the ground.

It was the most passionate, most amazing kiss I had ever received in my life. He ravaged my mouth, tugging at my lips with his teeth then sliding his tongue back against mine, and his hands cupped my head and my backside, kneading and stroking me into seething lust. I reciprocated with fervour, sliding my hand into the back of his trousers, and heard him moan again when I rubbed myself against his erection.

“Ahh, Zash…” I panted, and he suddenly let me go and I came back to my senses. I took a step back, still dazed, and saw that his face mirrored my own startled, fuzzy expression. He had not intended to go this far, I realised with a flash of insight – this instant flare of intense desire was as unprecedented for him as it had been for me.

I whirled around and picked up the headdress, not knowing what else to do. I wanted to run away just as much as I wanted to kiss him again, this time without stopping, and caught a glimpse of Shani’s open-mouthed stare at me before I started walking back to the inn. Neither of them spoke, and when we reached it we went to our rooms in silence. Zashter never looked at me again.

Once inside I sat down in a daze, only starting to undress when I saw Shani do so too. I noticed the towering hairdo she still sported and shrugged into a tunic before starting to take out all the pins and ribbons to bring it back to normalcy. A light tingling sensation told me that she had dropped the glamour that until then still encased us both.

I had undone about half of her hair when she finally spoke, her voice confused and a little afraid. “Rin, I’ve never seen you kiss anyone like that before.”

She was right, I hadn’t. I had never intended to do so with Zashter either, but it was pointless to tell her so, especially since my intentions had vanished like ice in boiling water the moment his lips touched mine.

“I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anyone kiss
you
like that before either,” she continued when I remained silent, and I stared at the wall as I untangled another braid. “Rin, do you think–”

“Shani, please,” I interrupted her, unable and unwilling to discuss this while I was still so overwhelmed. She turned her head and looked at me, but I kept my gaze fixed on the wall and neither of us spoke again until we crept into bed and blew out the candle.

I felt her arms encircle me in the dark, and she pressed her forehead against mine. “Rin, I’m here for you,” she whispered. “You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes, Shani, I know,” I replied, but said nothing further. I could not explain to her what I had come to realise after this evening, after Zashter’s surprising behaviour at the fete, after his unexpected tenderness and concern and after that breathtaking kiss.

I didn’t just like him, I had fallen in love with him.

CHAPTER FIVE

“No wards?” Mior said again, probably for the sixth time.

Zashter sighed irritably. “How many more times do you want her to repeat it? Either you trust her report or you don’t. There were no wards whatsoever, just locks.”

“Huh.” The baffled noise was becoming familiar too. “No wards.”

“Nope, just locks.” Zashter stared at the piece of soap in his hands, the imprint of the little key clear in its waxy surface, before palming it back into his sleeve. “Come, let’s go find a blacksmith.”

“Do we need to come?” I asked, wishing he would look at me, or speak to me of his own accord. As it was he barely even answered my questions.

“No, get some rest,” he said curtly, and stood up. Mior gave me a curious glance, looking from me to his brother, then stood up as well and followed.

“Get some rest,” I muttered, watching them walk out the door. “Like I can.”

“Rin? Are you
alright?” Shani asked, placing a hand on my arm, and I winced.

“Yes, I’m fine,” I snapped. “Absolutely
fantastic
. I’ll go get some
rest
, shall I?” I surged up and stomped outside as well, knowing that I left her confused and hurt, but I could not bring myself to be concerned about it. I was fuming, so I made my way to the teeming merchant quarter and tried to soothe my own hurt feelings by pickpocketing my way through three streets and a market square.

It didn’t work. Normally pickpocketing relaxed me – it was easy, so easy that it didn’t require thought and left me to think of other things, but I realised too late that that was the last thing I needed to do right now, since my thoughts inevitably went to Zashter. To Zashter’s kiss.

Zash, why won’t you talk to me?

I had slept like a log, against all my expectations. It was almost funny to know that when he annoyed me he kept me awake, yet when he kissed me it soothed me to sleep. But I had also dreamed of him – wild visions of lust and sex that left no clear memory but had caused me to wake with an ache in my body that I knew I could only be rid of in one way. I needed a man, yet that too was denied me, because ever since meeting Zashter I could find no appetite for anyone else.

Zash, why won’t you look at me?

Both questions had been on the tip of my tongue several times that morning, but something in his demeanour had made me lose courage before I’d even drawn breath to say the words. He’d been distant, lost in thought, and the few times when his gaze had slid past me his eyes had seemed sad beyond measure. I wanted him more than ever, but it was abundantly clear that he would not be accommodating, and I could not understand why. His ardour the night before had been equal to mine, and I knew that I had been ready to strip him naked right there.

Zash, you wanted me then, so what’s changed?

I didn’t know, and with a sigh I lost myself in the crowd again, this time concentrating on finding thief signs, and trying to remember what they meant.

*   *   *   *   *

It was mid-afternoon by the time I returned to the inn, where I found Shani in our room, sorting through our meagre belongings and repacking them in our backpacks. Our dresses lay discarded in the corner of the room; we would dispose of them later, and for my part I hoped I would never have to see or wear one again. There was a pile of travel rations on the bed, and a new woollen cloak for both of us. The cloaks looked thick and warm, and I absent-mindedly felt the cloth between my thumb and forefinger.

“We’re going into the mountains when we’re done here,” Shani said. Her voice was conciliatory, and when I looked at her I could see that she wanted me to act as always, and forget about what had happened this morning. I felt ashamed at having snapped at her, and was enough of a coward that I considered not apologising.

Then I thought of Zash again, and his habit of non-apology, and set my jaw. “Shani, I’m sorry about this morning,” I said, making myself meet her eyes.

It took a few moments before the corner of her mouth moved upwards. “Don’t worry about it. Do you feel better now?”

I shrugged and made a noncommittal noise, bending over the bed to hide my face, and thankfully she didn’t push. “Did they say when we would leave?” I asked, grabbing a few packs of the travel rations.

“After you and Zash have stolen the gem,” she replied. “I got the feeling he wants to do it tomorrow night, but you’ll have to check with him to be sure.”

I nodded to myself. It made sense – leave one day for the aftermath of the party to be cleared and all the extra servants to disappear, but before the household had fully recovered. We had left early, but many other guests would not have retired from the party until nearly dawn.

Well, no time like the present. He had not spoken to me of his own accord that morning, but he would answer direct questions, and we would still have to work together, regardless of his changed attitude. “I’ll go see him now,” I muttered, and left the room before Shani could reply.

It took a long time before someone answered my knock and call, and I felt a mixture of disappointment and relief when I saw that
it was Mior. His behaviour, however, confused me. “Hello, Little Firelocks,” he greeted me, and I stopped on the threshold in confusion. “Do come in, we need to talk,” he invited with a sweeping, slightly mocking gesture.

I stepped past, giving him a baffled look, and sat down on the chair he indicated to me. “What do
you
need to talk to me about?”

“The burglary, of course. We need to plan,” he replied as if it was the most logical thing in the world.

“We do? I didn’t think you’d be coming with us,” I said, growing more confused by the moment.

My comment seemed to surprise him, and he cocked his head at me. “Of course I’m coming, who else would disarm all those traps?”

“Disarm… You can disarm traps? I wouldn’t have thought that was part of your skills!”

This time he was truly taken aback. “I’m a thief, of course I can disarm traps,” he said, and the conviction in his voice meant that I was now completely lost.

“Mior, what the fuck are you on about?”

He gaped at me for a heartbeat, then recovered. “I’m not Mior, I’m Zash.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “No, you’re not. You’re Mior.” I could see him draw a breath, but gave him no time to speak. “You’re Mior, and you won’t convince me otherwise. I know who you are, and I know who he is, and there’s no way I’d ever mix you up.”

He gave up, dropping the veneer of arrogance, and when he looked at me again his eyes were almost apologetic. “How did you know?”

“I just do,” I snapped. “What
I
want to know is why you were trying to fool me.”

He shrugged uncomfortably. “Sometimes we pretend to be each other. Or actually, we pretend to be just one person. It works well for certain heists, we just have to make sure that we look exactly the same.”

I had wondered whether their similarity was as deliberate as it seemed, but his explanation made sense only on a general level. “That still doesn’t explain why you tried to fool
me
.”

“Call it an experiment,” he said pensively. “We wondered whether we’d be able to fool you and Shani as well.”

We? Just Zash, more like,
I thought, but I snapped, “After two weeks together? When we’ve never mixed you up before?”

“We’ve never specifically tried to fool you before.”

“Well, you can’t. I knew it was you the moment you opened the door.”

“Did you? Interesting. How could you be so sure?”

You and your big mouth.
I could kick myself for that slip of the tongue. How could I explain to him that seeing Zash was like a punch in the gut, an instant attraction that was as potent as it seemed inevitable? Mior did look exactly the same, but he simply held no attraction to me.

And that made me wonder. Were they trying this deception now because I had revealed my desire for Zash? Was this his way of finding out if it mattered to me whether I kissed him or his brother? The thought hurt more than I could have imagined.

“I just know,” I mumbled, turning around and stomping back to the door. I needed to get out of there, needed to be alone for a while to sort out my confused emotions. Needed to…

…Ask about the burglary. I had nearly forgotten my purpose in coming here. “If you see Black Eyes, tell him I want to talk to him,” I said, ready to flee the room.

“I’m here.” And that was
his
voice. I whirled around just in time to see him step out of the dark corner he had been standing in – the corner I had glanced at when I came in, but which I had not noticed anything odd about. I felt myself redden, partly in anger and partly in embarrassment at having been caught out like that, but I raised my chin and waited.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” he asked. His voice was neutral, his face a bland mask, and it infuriated and saddened me in equal parts. He sounded just like he had the first few days when we started travelling together, and until now I had not realised how much more familiar we had become with each other since then.

I took a deep breath and willed my own face into a similar mask. “The burglary. When, how, what time. You know, details,” I replied, swallowing when I heard my voice waver a little.

“Tomorrow, two measures after midnight,” he said softly. “The key is ready, it should just be a case of in and out. We leave straight after, there’s a spot on the north-western city wall where we can climb over without too much trouble. Tell your sister to be ready to leave that night. Anything I missed?”

“No,” I said hoarsely. “All understood.” With that I left the room, wondering why he even wanted me to come along. With the little key it could be done as easily with one person as with two. It wasn’t something I could bring myself to mention, however. Whatever the reasons for his changed behaviour, I still wanted to be with him, and the shame I felt over that fact I buried as deep as I could.

*   *   *   *   *

The burglary was as easy as he had said, as easy as I had thought it would be after seeing the duke’s excuse for security, but any excitement or nerves I had felt in the lead-up to it had disappeared underneath a dull feeling of listlessness. We were in and out in just over a measure, leaving the house immaculate and every door securely locked, with the Heartstone safely in Zash’s loot bag. By the time dawn crept across the land we were already well on our way into the mountains, Naylis nothing but a memory behind us.

Zash called a halt shortly after that, and we took shelter in a small cave off to the side of the path. The air was noticeably colder here, and I was glad of the fire we built at the cave entrance, and for the warm woollen cloak which doubled as an extra blanket on top of my sleeping roll. I didn’t bother to even take my boots off before crawling in, and I was so tired that I was asleep within moments.

Mior’s voice woke me again, some time later. “You did
what?!
”

“I kissed her. And keep your voice down.” Zash’s reply was crystal clear and drove the sleep from my mind like a bucket of ice-cold water.

Mior dropped his voice to just above a whisper and hissed, “Trakan’s Teeth, Zash, you’ve been telling me to keep my distance and then
you
go playing tongue-twister with
her
? Why didn’t you tell me this two days ago? I thought you were acting weird.”

I lay as still as I could, glad that I had my back to them. They were on the other side of the fire, but although they now both spoke very quietly, there were no other noises, nothing to distract or distort, and I heard them with gut-wrenching clarity. Mior spoke with a clear note of impatience and annoyance in his voice, but Zash’s words held a detached calm that showed little emotion.

“You didn’t ask, and it’s not like I planned it. It just happened. It’s a long time since I had a woman.”

“Horseshit, Zash, this isn’t about your poor, deprived cock. You
like
her. I knew you couldn’t stick to the plan.”

“Says the one who’s been compromising it. It was your idea, remember?”

“Pff, you know I wasn’t serious. I wanted them to come along and so did you; all I did was give you an excuse. I like them – we both do. We’ll just have to find another way.”

“There is no other way. We’re in this now, we have to finish it.”

“Again, horseshit. You can give me that I-couldn’t-give-a-fuck-face all you want, but I don’t believe it. You can’t do it.”

“When push comes to shove we’ll have no choice. It’ll be them or us. He’s got us by the balls with that mark and you know it.”

“There’s always a choice. But suit yourself, I know you’ll crack; she’ll make you. And you can forget about me keeping my distance now.
You
broke the rules, so you can shove them up your pessimistic arse. We can do this some other way.”

“Keep thinking that, if it makes you feel better. I won’t slip up again.”

They were quiet for a few heartbeats, and I forced myself to keep breathing steadily, even though my heart was pounding in my chest. Everything they had just said confirmed to me that I had been right not to trust them, but without knowing what this plan of theirs was I couldn’t know what to look out for, when to be careful. It encouraged me that Mior had his doubts, but I knew that Mior followed Zash’s counsel, and Zash’s attitude and lack of emotion frightened me deeply, regardless of what his brother thought he was or wasn’t capable of.