Touch of Iron (The Living Blade #1) (42 page)

“Tell me what you see.”

“Is it—” Nora shook her head. “I mean, could he…feel that?”

“Oh, yes.” Suranna laughed quietly, making Nora uneasy.

“How?”

“‘This is at last flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone.’ You know the words?”

“Diaz is your
husband
?”

Yeah, he’d failed to mention that along the way. Inclusion of celibacy in the code or not, one thing pilgrim masters were not allowed to do was marry. Even Nora knew as much. She stared at Suranna, heart racing, stomach churning bile.

“Twenty years ago he bound himself to me,” the queen continued, as though unaware of the effect of her words on Nora. “Our bond goes much deeper than matrimony. Much deeper than he likes. Still, I would give him to you. Teach you how to touch him as I can. Do you want to learn from me?”

Her own personal love slave, unable to refuse her. Nora shuddered, but not with pleasure. She should not have to make decisions like this. Was not in the position to make them. No one was.

“In exchange for what?” she asked, surprised at how level her voice sounded.

Suranna leaned forward.

“In exchange for a true revolution.”

T
wo guards accompanied Nora back
to the guesthouse she had woken up in. She leaned against the closed door, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the twilight inside. A table with two chairs, a still life of fruit arranged on top of it, an alcove for washing, another decked out with cushions and costly sheets. The bed. Only one bed. But large enough for two.

Diaz was training. But she knew that already. She had seen him. He turned once, acknowledging with a quick glance that he had noticed her entering.

“You’re not covered in vomit, nor are the whites of your eyes showing,” he said, going through his movements with routine and precision. “It must have gone well today.”

Nora nodded, not trusting herself to speak freely to him. Still under the impression of Suranna’s smoke and illusions, the silent vision of Diaz moaning, she swallowed hard.

The wood of the door was smooth under Nora’s fingertips. It was cool inside the room, but she felt warmth steal into her innards as she watched him move. He had stripped and wore only his trousers, rolled up around his knees, his tattoos curling on his skin, glistening sweat.

His face was calm, a mask of concentration as he fought the ghosts of at least three warriors around him. His sword flashed, catching the dusty rays of sunlight that fell in through the blinds of the windows. It took a master to make it seem as effortless as he did. His muscles hardened and tensed, and her knees were still weak from the poisoning. Or maybe just weak from a sudden, mad desire to kneel before him and lick his bronze skin, taste him, possess him. Her heart fluttered and maybe a sound had escaped her lips, because he came to a finish, sword point stretched at an arm’s length without quivering.

“You didn’t wear shoes?” He nodded at her bare feet, toweling off.

She looked down at the slit in the gown that exposed a long stretch of leg. So much nudity. Why had he noticed her feet?

“The shoes she sent me didn’t fit,” she said.

“Hmm.” He rubbed the back of his neck just under the hairline. “Is something wrong? Or why are you still standing at the door?”

Nora licked her lips and registered with slight disappointment that they weren’t salty from his sweat.

“Why am I here?” she asked slowly.

He pulled a shirt over his head and took his time answering, tucking the fabric neatly into his trousers.

“Are you sure you want my ‘philosophical bullshit’ answer?”

She smiled. “You won’t forgive me saying that, will you?”

“We’re here because we need information on the exact location of the Living Blade. As the queen is the strongest seeress—”

“I mean why am I
here
?” Nora interrupted. “With you. Why are we sharing sleeping quarters? Suranna must have…I don’t know how many people and guesthouses. It can’t be that hard for her to find a place for me to stay. Yet here I am. With you. Why?”

He remained silent.

“Why, Diaz?” She stepped away from the door, drawing nearer to him.

“It’s like training, Noraya. It’s all a test.”

“A test of what? Or should I say whom? Me or you?”

He drew a deep breath. “The queen—”

“Why don’t you say her name, dammit?”

A dark gleam entered his eyes as he looked down at her, and not a trace of pleasure could be found in his gaze.

“Names have power, Noraya. They seal and bind.”

“Bullshit cliché. Answer my question.”

“I just did.”

“You know which one I mean.”

He fell silent once more.

“Of course it’s you. I’m just the means to an end.” Nora shook her head. “If it’s a test of your self-control, well…we both know how disciplined you are. We could be staying here for a long time. A very long time. I could be old and shriveled before you—”

“Noraya,” he warned.

“Is it a test of…manhood? If she’s simply curious whether you are still capable of wooing another—”

“Noraya!”

“—then I say, let’s just get it over with. See what she comes up with next.”

He snorted. “Why do you have to talk like that?”

“Like what?”

“Vulgar. Like you aren’t…a virgin.”

His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper when he said the last two words. As though they were sacred. Holy Nora. The worst was, she thought, he believed it. He’d always believe it.

“I trust you with my life,” she said, shrugging. “I think I could trust you with my virginity.”

She saw his jawline tense, but the rest of his face remained frozen in a carefully arranged non-expression. She smiled but made sure not to laugh. “Are you blushing yet?”

That broke the spell, and annoyance flashed over his face. He cleared his throat.

“Always trying to provoke me.”

“No, I
am
being serious.”

He flung the towel into a corner and raised a finger to admonish her to be silent. She closed her mouth.

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” he finally said.

“I have a rough idea.”

She groaned inwardly.
Shouldn’t have said that. Thank you, mouth
.

“No. You do not.” He made as though he wanted to say more but then snapped his mouth shut.

“Diaz—”

“This conversation is over.”

“I—”

“Not one more word! I will
not
speak to you on this matter. Go, find your brother if you feel well enough. Go or I will go.”

“I’ll stay right here.”

“Then I shall leave.”

He made for the door. She caught him by the sleeve as he passed.

“We need to talk about this,” she said.

“You forget. I am the master. I decide when we talk, and what we talk about.”

He knocked her hand away and left.

Nora stared at the closed door for a moment, waiting for him to return. When he didn’t, she started swearing and didn’t stop for a long time.

D
iaz didn’t return that night.
Nor did he show up in the morning. Five more days passed that way. Occasionally, when she came in from wandering the many streets of the temple-brothel, it seemed he had been in to collect some things, change his clothes. Sometimes Nora had the impression that she heard the door close quietly behind him when she woke, as though he had been there during the night, watching over her sleep. But most of the time he wasn’t there.

Having little else to do, she went exploring. The temple was enormous and couldn’t be seen all in one day. It took her three days to roam from one end to the other, and the temple’s black heart was the throne room. She paced down the main streets, the girls there calling to her, beckoning her to come in. Some danced to the strange notes of a foreign wailing music on an instrument Nora had never seen before. Their lithe bodies writhed and shook, making the bells around their ankles ring. They wore nothing else. Off the main streets, there were food stalls and auditoriums where some girls sang and played music and entertained in many different ways. She sat around for a few afternoons, listening to the sad love songs and watching the older men weep silently in the dark seats before the stage.

A few days later, Nora also found a library, similar to the throne room in scope but in a quieter part of the temple. When she walked through the many rows of books, she saw a couple making out in the shadows between the rows, living out some weird fantasy. She would have turned and left when she saw them, but curiosity got the better of her and, well, this was a library after all, so maybe…nope. The man wasn’t Owen.

Her brother sat at a long table, books piled high before his face, staring in concentration at the paper before him. A particularly loud couple was doing their thing on the other end of the table, but Owen didn’t seem to notice. His frown only deepened as the table shook. Nora sat down beside Owen for a while, but he was so immersed in what looked like accounting ledgers that he didn’t notice her, didn’t notice anything. Not even when the couple was finished and the girl walked over to Nora, wearing nothing but a bead chain. Talk about uncomfortable clothing. Nora’s eyes flickered upward to the girl’s face. Her cheeks were red and she was wiping between her legs and down them as she nodded at Nora and said something.

“Sorry?” Nora said. “I don’t speak…er…”

“I said that guy there, don’t bother with him.” The girl reached over and took a large gulp from a pitcher filled with water. “I’ve never seen anyone with such a lack of interest. Watch.”

The girl ran a hand over Owen’s nape and the tip of her tongue traveled along his throat to his ear. She raised her head and winked at Nora. After a moment, Owen’s hand came up to wipe the wet away. His eyes never left the numbers before him, though two breasts dangled in front of his face.

“When you sit on his lap, he merely grunts and asks you to leave,” the girl said. “Polite. But…no money there.”

“I’m his sister,” Nora told her. The girl simply shrugged and walked away.

“Please be in there somewhere, Owen.” Nora waved a hand in front of her brother’s face. “This place scares the shit out of me.”

“Hmm?” Owen turned his head, but his eyes were still stuck on the page. “Nora? How long have you been here?”

“Long enough.” Nora shuddered. “Owen, do you sleep here in the library?”

“I’m trying not to.”

“What, sleep?”

“Mmhmm.”

She waited, but he didn’t say more.

“Owen?” She sat closer, a hand on his forearm, voice low. “I’ve never seen so many vacant expressions. This is no place to be. Owen? I’m scared. And lonely. Please talk to me.”

“Uh-huh.”

Nora rolled her eyes. She leaned back and tapped the wooden table with her fingernails.

“I’m with child, Owen. I’m carrying Diaz’s love child. It’ll be reborn as Shinar’s chosen one, and together with Suranna we will rule this world as a holy fucking threesome.”

“Not now, Nora. I’m reading. Hey!”

She snatched the book out from underneath his hands and snapped it shut. He groaned and ran a hand through his unkempt hair.

“What do you want?”

“I want to talk to you, brother dear.”

“Why? I mean, why don’t you go train with Diaz?” He made a grab for the book, but Nora held it higher.

“I can’t. It’s complicated.”

“What did you do?”

“You’re always quick to assume
I
did something.”

“Did you?”

“I might have said something inappropriate.” When Owen groaned, she quickly added, “But it was true. Not like Diaz keeping quiet about his marriage to the whore queen. Gods, I hate her. Always yapping on and on about Shinar this and Shinar that.”

“Diaz was married?”

“Is! He
is
married. Aren’t you listening?”

“But it’s against the code.” Owen’s frown deepened. “Master Diaz would never go against the code. He doesn’t—”

“That’s the whole point! She’s making him. She’s an attention-demanding lunatic who has no respect for other people’s boundaries.”

“So unlike someone else I know,” Owen muttered.

“Want your book back? Then start talking fast,” Nora snapped.