The Ritual (7 page)

As I risked another surreptitious glance at his chest a girl sashayed out of the kitchen, holding a bowl of stew and a mug of the goat-piss ale. She was buxom and young, dressed provocatively, and her movements were sure and practiced as she placed the bowl and mug in front of Zashter, then ran her fingers along his should
er and down his back in a caress. “Hello, big boy,” she breathed, and I blinked at the blatant invitation in her voice.

“Niniel, hey,” Zashter replied, smiling up at her and sliding his arm around her waist.

The stab of jealousy I felt was not unexpected, but the strength of it rocked me. I tried to push it away, but my back was rigid with sudden rage and I could barely even see my food as I shovelled it into my mouth, the flavour gone.

“Come see me tonight?” Niniel murmured, and although I wanted to, I could not look away as she tousled Zashter’s hair with nimble fingers and all but pushed her cleavage in his face.

He smiled his arrogant smile and got himself a good eyeful, but his voice was firm when he said, “No, I’m busy tonight.”

“You’re always busy,” Niniel pouted.

“Aren’t I just? Maybe you should take the hint.” He was still smiling, but the girl stiffened, then jerked upright, staring at him in indignant astonishment. “Go on, off you go,” he added, shooing her away with a condescending pat on the bum and sniggering when she stalked off.

When he turned back he met my baffled gaze, and chuckled again. “I have standards.” With that he tucked into his food and never crossed eyes with me again until his plate was clean.

I lingered over the remnants of mine, allowing my emotions to settle. Yet again he had surprised me, and I could no longer deny that I didn’t just find him attractive – I was beginning to like him. Even his frequent arrogance and the sarcasm he directed at me could not change that, because I gave as good as I got. Moreover, if I thought back to his lectures of the past days, I had to admit that they had all been justified. A little harsh, maybe, but he had warned me that he would be.

His arrogance was a mask, his sarcasm a defence, just as my sullen expression and wary approach were for me. Whether he used them for the same reason I didn’t know, but he had shown me glimpses of the man underneath already – whenever he let his mask slip he was friendly, had a playful sense of humour, and was as generous in his praise as Mior. Given time I might break through mask and defence both, but I still wasn’t sure whether I wanted to. That he was likeable made the attraction less annoying, but I still didn’t trust him, and wouldn’t until I found out his motive for taking me on as a pupil.

I scraped a crust of bread through my bowl and looked up to find that Shani had disappeared – presumably to the bathroom – and Zashter and Mior were talking quietly, their voices too low for me to follow.

Now that I had finished my food I let my gaze drift around the room, and lingered for a moment on a man in the far corner. He had been there ever since we had arrived, and although I had only noticed him on a subconscious level until then, my thief senses were honed enough that his continued presence felt suspicious, especially since he had his hood up so it shadowed his face and only had a mug of ale in front of him – I doubted that anyone frequented the Maiden’s Virtue for its ale.

I was about to point him out to Zashter when the man got up and moved to our table. My fingers crept to my boot knife, but he spread out both his empty hands as he approached, then quite openly sat down in the space that Shani had vacated. Both Zashter and Mior looked up, and for a heartbeat they looked eerily similar as identical expressions of annoyance crossed their faces, only to be hidden behind bland masks.

“Evening, gentlemen,” the visitor said in a musical, polished voice, and with a shock I realised that he was an elf. Both brothers nodded guardedly, and then the elf’s eyes turned to me in curiosity. “I was not expecting you to enlist help.”

I stared back, questions whirling around in my head. What was an elf doing in a rogue tavern? Why would he speak to half-elves? Help for what, and what did he have to do with Zashter? Then I realised that he was the first elf I had been this close to since leaving the orphanage, and I took the opportunity to study him.

His features seemed exaggerated, I noted with interest. Eyes of an impossibly bright blue, almost violet. Cheekbones high and sharp, nose aristocratically straight, skin pale and luminous. His hair was brown, but even that looked somehow brighter and more intense than it would on humans or half-elves, as if it was the very essence of brown rather than a mere colour. He was strikingly attractive, but it was a cold beauty that repelled rather than enticed me, especially compared to Zashter.

“We weren’t informed that we couldn’t, Siander,” Zashter replied, then glanced at me before looking back. “Are you here to discuss the… arrangement?”

“Of course. Why else would I sit here and drink sewage?”

Zashter didn’t smile, just jerked a thumb towards the staircase door. “Come upstairs then, I won’t discuss it here.”

“Very well,” the elf said affably, standing up. He looked at me again. “Will the lady be joining us?”

“No,” Zashter replied. “The lady will not.”

It made sense – they still had not revealed their plans. However, it didn’t lessen the sting I felt at being deliberately left out. I hid it behind a blank expression and nodded.

I sipped my ale as I watched them walk away, out the door and up the stairs, and as soon as they had disappeared from sight I followed.

*   *   *   *   *

Two measures later I was back in the common room, nursing the bitter sting of disappointment. Despite my better judgment I had trusted my weight to first our own rickety balcony, then the one outside Zashter and Mior’s room, but the windows were well-set and thick and allowed no sound to escape. A quick excursion to the corridor outside our rooms had shown it to be too busy to listen at the keyhole, which was dangerous besides. I had tried the roof as well, and pressing my ear to the wall in our own room, but I might as well have been trying to hear an ant crawl up the plaster.

The elf Siander had left a while ago, tossing me a casually elegant wave as he glided past, but neither of the brothers had reappeared. I presumed they had things to discuss still.

Beside me, Shani patted my hand again. “Don’t beat yourself up over it so, Rin,” she said. “Of course they don’t trust us, and of course they’re not going to make it easy for us to eavesdrop. You know they’re too professional for that.”

I gave an irritable shrug. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it. I want to
know
, Shani. They gave in too easily to us coming along; we must be able to provide them with something, do something for them, and I’ll not rest easy until I know what it is.”

“It doesn’t have to be something sinister,” she said, closing her fingers around mine. “Maybe you just convinced them with your reasoning.”

“Yeah, and you’re the Duchess of Naylis.”

She quirked her mouth. “Does Naylis even have a duchess?”

“Don’t be obtuse, Shani. I don’t trust any of this, and neither should you.”

“Who says I do? I’m just not as cynical as you.” She studied a nail thoughtfully, then added in an undertone, “Besides, I like Mior.”

I sighed, softened. “I know you do. And you’d have to be blind not to see that he likes you as well.”

“Would you? I’ve all but thrown myself at him, but he doesn’t seem to get the hint.”

That was news to me, even though it shouldn’t have been. Had I been so distracted that I hadn’t seen what Shani was up to? “How do you mean?”

“Well, exactly what I just said. I’ve been flirting with him all week, and when I look him in the eyes I could swear that he’s interested, yet he’s never even tried to touch me.”

The forlorn tone in which she said those last words made me look at her more closely, and I saw the sweetness in her eyes. Shani had always been a romantic, though only the Gods knew how she managed that with a life like ours, but this time it seemed more than just quick infatuation, and it made me afraid.

“You want him to touch you then?” I asked quietly.

“Oh, Gods, yes,” she breathed, then added, “but you don’t think I should, do you?”

“I…” I stopped, choosing my words carefully. “Shani, I don’t think you can trust him. I know I don’t trust Zashter as far as I can throw him.”

“But you want him as much as I want Mior.”

I stiffened and blushed, and with an irritated motion I bent over my ale, trying to hide my emotions behind a curtain of hair.

Shani sniffed. “Fine, be like that, but you can’t hide it from me, Rin.”

“He’s attractive,” I grudgingly admitted, “but I still don’t trust him.”

She sighed. “Do you want to drop out? We don’t
have
to stay with them. We’ve managed well enough with just the two of us.”

Leave him.
The thought cut like a knife, and that alone told me that it was exactly what I should be doing. In the confused jumble of feelings that Zashter caused in me there was only one thing abundantly clear to me – I
did
want him. I wanted him naked on top of me, or underneath me, or next to me. I wanted his hands on my skin, his tongue in my mouth and his cock deep inside me, and the longer I spent with him, the more I wanted it. And how long would it take before want turned to need? I wanted him, but I didn’t want to
need
a man, even if he wasn’t as obnoxious as he had first seemed.

Still, I couldn’t make my mouth say the words.
Yes, we should leave,
I thought, but what I said was, “No. I’ve learned more in the past week than in all my time with Naerev, and unless I’m much mistaken it’s the same for you with Mior. That alone is worth a chance. We just have to stay on our guard, and not let a pretty face cloud our judgment.”

Shani let her breath escape, and it sounded like a sigh of relief. “I can do that,” she said, but although she sounded confident, doubt gnawed at my gut, especially when she turned her head and I saw her eyes start to sparkle. I didn’t even need to look to know that Mior had walked in, and it gave me the sinking feeling that I was already too late with my warning.

And then Zashter sat down opposite me, and I realised that it was likely too late for me as well. I met his eyes and drowned in them, and they were so knowing that for a moment I panicked, thinking that he knew how he affected me, that he would take advantage of it somehow.

“No luck eavesdropping then?” he asked, and my hammering heart slowed down again, relieved that it wasn’t my infatuation with him that he looked so knowing about.

“Can’t blame a girl for trying,” I said, doing my best to sound casual.

His grin was genuine, and surprised me. “No, I suppose I can’t.”

“Profitable meeting then?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he chuckled.

“Won’t deny it.”

“Well, I guess you’re in luck then.”

It took a heartbeat to register, then I stared at him. “Excuse me?”

“We’ve had a chat, Mior and I, and we’ve decided that we should tell you what we’re up to.”

His gaze was open and honest, and I was instantly suspicious. “What brought on this sudden trust?”

He pursed his lips, causing my heart to stutter, then pushed himself upright again. “Come on upstairs, we’ll discuss it there.”

Dazed, I followed, drawing Shani with me. Zashter did the same with Mior, and I noticed that Shani had been right – he
did
look at her as if he wanted her. Maybe it ought to have comforted me that he looked as smitten as my sister, but instead it worried me. If he wanted her, then why didn’t he act on it? It was yet another thing to puzzle me, like why Zashter seemed to have suddenly decided to do exactly the opposite of what I had been lamenting to Shani about.

We entered their room and Zashter waved a hand for us to get seated. Since the choice was between their double bed and the one chair the room contained, I snatched up the chair and sat on it backwards, leaning my arms on the backrest. Mior installed himself comfortably against the bed’s headboard, and with a coy smile Shani sat down next to him. Zashter remained standing, and I squinted up at him.

“So, what brought on the change of heart then?” I asked, not bothering to hide my scepticism.

He smile
d at me, unoffended but a tad superior. “First of all, in the past week you’ve both shown us that you have promise, and are willing and able to pull your weight. You’ve got a lot to learn still, but we’re both confident that you’ll be able to pick up what we can teach you at a satisfactory speed.”

“Satisfactory?” I interrupted him.

“Don’t get your hackles up, Little Firelocks. You’re doing well, but you’ve made plenty of mistakes too.”

“Well, that still doesn’t explain the change of heart.”

“Shut up then and let me tell you,” he said, now sounding impatient, and I clamped my mouth shut. “Right, so we’ve decided that the initial commitment stands – we’ll teach you both.”

“How magnanimous of you,” I muttered, but waved him on when he gave an exasperated sigh.

“As I was saying, the commitment stands, so it’s inevitable that you’ll be involved in our current assignment. It’s no more than fair that you know what to expect, especially since this assignment is going to be extremely challenging even for Mior and me.”