Blood and Betrayal by Lindsay Buroker Page B

eased closer. Scratched and dulled by time, the window offered a poor view. He wiped away a circle of grime and spattered grass clippings from the last mowing. A single, large room with worn wooden floorboards stretched before him. Old mill machinery, the cutting blades removed, had been pushed into corners, leaving a large open area in the center. A squat cylindrical device sat on the floor, emitting the light from four holes in a dome-shaped top.
    Two men lay crumpled on the floor on either side of it.
    “Emperor’s balls,” Maldynado whispered. It was Books and Akstyr, neither of them moving. Maldynado wasn’t even sure if they were breathing.
    For a second, he thought about running inside and dragging them out, but the dull ache behind his eyes had turned to stabbing pain. He had to escape that light for a minute. He and Yara could figure out what to do from across the field.
    Before Maldynado could step away from the window, cold, sharp steel touched his neck. Curse Yara, she was supposed to be watching his back.
    His first notion was to hurl an elbow backward and try to catch his attacker off balance, but the dagger pressed deeper. Another hair, and it’d slice into his flesh.
    Maldynado eased his hands out to the sides, palms open. “Mind if we step away from the light?” he murmured, careful not to let his emperor’s apple dance about—and get cut. “I think it’s melting my brain.”
    “Tell me what you know about it.”
    Maldynado’s jaw dropped, a movement he promptly regretted, because it made the knife cut into his skin. But the speaker—the person with the blade to his throat—was the emperor.
    “Sire?” Maldynado squeaked.
    “Did you arrange for this trap when you were in town?”
    “No! We were
shopping
. Look, I’ll show you our bags. We left them on the path—”
    “Sire,” came Yara’s voice. “He didn’t arrange this. There was a conversation I should tell you about, but I heard enough to know it wasn’t about sending men to your hiding place.”
    Maldynado bit his lip to keep from snapping at Yara for not warning him about Sespian’s approach. Best to stand still and not dig himself into a hole—a deeper hole.
    A long moment passed before the blade disappeared from Maldynado’s neck. He touched his skin and grimaced when blood came away on his fingers.
    Arms wide, Maldynado turned, intending to impress upon Sespian just how innocent he was, but the emperor was already stalking away. Basilard had joined Yara by the steam donkey. His approach must have kept her from noticing Sespian as he sneaked up on Maldynado. That Sespian
could
sneak so well was surprising. Maldynado might have to reassess his image of the young emperor as a harmless, bookish sort.
    Basilard waved for attention as soon as everyone stood in the shadow of the donkey engine. Maldynado realized he was the only one there who could understand his hand signs.
    We routed the men in black, but we must figure out a way to retrieve Books and Akstyr.
Basilard pointed to the building.
That device didn’t start glowing and affecting us
—he paused to touch his temple—
until they were inside. The men with the crossbows tried to ambush us while we ate. I noticed them coming, and we took to the field, but there were a lot of them firing rapidly. We decided to take cover in the mill. As soon as we approached, Akstyr said he sensed magic inside. We were being shot at, so he and Books volunteered to go in and investigate. I don’t know if they turned the device on or if it fired up of its own accord, but they fell unconscious before they could run back out. It’s been at least twenty minutes, and they haven’t moved.
    “What’s he saying?” Yara asked.
    Maldynado translated.
    When he finished, Sespian added, “It was a trap. I think we were all meant to be in there when the device turned on. I don’t know how these men knew we were here—” the look Sespian gave Maldynado dripped with significance, “—but they