conniving mother. This is our time.”
His companion was still unknown, but whoever he was, Shadir seemed to have him convinced.
“We rely on your leadership.” His tone was deferential. “And wait for the end eagerly.”
Tia imagined Shadir studying the night sky as she had seen him doing the night Shealtiel died.
“Have no fear. He will be dead within the month.”
The stone wall cut into her fingers. She loosened her grip and risked a breath. The men were moving away, crossing the garden to the palace door. And then they were gone, leaving her to review their cryptic conversation.
Secrets and truth. Power and death.
Tia and her mother both unfavorably mentioned.
And could the one whose death they anticipated be anyone other than her father?
Her muscles remained knotted and she forced herself to breathe, to release the fear. What was this plan? And how were they involved?
Her earlier musing returned with ferocity.
Would she live her life only to satisfy a lust for thrills? Or would she chance a venture of significance?
She will lock me up until Zagros arrives . If Tia were to pursue the truth, it must be in secret.
She would be risking her freedom, not only for the moment, but permanently, if it meant a forced marriage.
Strangely, the face that flashed in her mind’s eye was an old man with bright eyes who lived a stone’s throw from the palace and yet had never let himself become truly part of it.
“Question everything,” Daniel had said. As he had done and would continue to do.
Tia regarded the stars once more, searching for counsel and finding only more mystery.
But in her heart, something had already changed. She was no pet cat with a tangle of threads. No unruly princess interested only in amusement.
The game had turned deadly. And she was prepared to win.
Dark. Light.
Black, white, gray.
All I know.
Nose to wind, sniffing, sniffing. Meat! Throw it here. Here!
Pawing to meat, stones scratching skin. Devour. Not enough. Hungry, always hungry. Snuffling in dirt, more food, more food. Pawing at the roots, smell of earth. No food.
Black above, specked with white. So cold.
Grayness at the edge of black. Grows. Lightens. Water on my skin, falling on me. Colder.
She comes. I watch. Eyes soft, water there too.
She goes. Do not go .
Head lifted, lips open, teeth bared. Baying at the luminous white, disappearing.
Change. Change coming.
Urge to eat, urge to kill . . . receding.
Something more. There is something more.
Lingering fog.
Lifting fog.
CHAPTER 14
I prowl the night palace again, looking for the jackal. I search rooftop gardens where I watch the soft glow of the moon, and underground corridors lit by an occasional smoking torch burning low in the late watches of the night. I do not find him. My silent tread takes me to the throne room courtyard, to the low-hanging fronds that brush against my back as I pad along the path. So thirsty. The fountain bubbles and trickles and I approach, lean my head over its stone lip, and stare into the water at my reflection in the moonlight .
I have found the jackal .
Tia sucked in a ragged gasp of air and woke. Watery morning sunlight slanted across the floor of her bedchamber, striking a path across her eyes. She blinked against the intrusion, then reached a hand to the dust-sparkled beam, willing the sun to banish the terror.
I am not in my bed . The shock of finding herself the jackal in her dream surged again, like nausea, and Tia scrambled to sit upright, her eyes darting around the room. Her own bedchamber, but she was on the floor. Had she fallen and not awakened? Or did the dream have something of reality?
Before she was fully dressed, a male slave usually attendant on Amytis appeared at her door. Omarsa held the door ajar while Gula hastily wrapped Tia in a tunic.
The young man had the beautifully dark skin of Upper Egypt. The gold armbands her mother lavished on her slaves shone against his lean arms. “Your tutors await, my
His companion was still unknown, but whoever he was, Shadir seemed to have him convinced.
“We rely on your leadership.” His tone was deferential. “And wait for the end eagerly.”
Tia imagined Shadir studying the night sky as she had seen him doing the night Shealtiel died.
“Have no fear. He will be dead within the month.”
The stone wall cut into her fingers. She loosened her grip and risked a breath. The men were moving away, crossing the garden to the palace door. And then they were gone, leaving her to review their cryptic conversation.
Secrets and truth. Power and death.
Tia and her mother both unfavorably mentioned.
And could the one whose death they anticipated be anyone other than her father?
Her muscles remained knotted and she forced herself to breathe, to release the fear. What was this plan? And how were they involved?
Her earlier musing returned with ferocity.
Would she live her life only to satisfy a lust for thrills? Or would she chance a venture of significance?
She will lock me up until Zagros arrives . If Tia were to pursue the truth, it must be in secret.
She would be risking her freedom, not only for the moment, but permanently, if it meant a forced marriage.
Strangely, the face that flashed in her mind’s eye was an old man with bright eyes who lived a stone’s throw from the palace and yet had never let himself become truly part of it.
“Question everything,” Daniel had said. As he had done and would continue to do.
Tia regarded the stars once more, searching for counsel and finding only more mystery.
But in her heart, something had already changed. She was no pet cat with a tangle of threads. No unruly princess interested only in amusement.
The game had turned deadly. And she was prepared to win.
Dark. Light.
Black, white, gray.
All I know.
Nose to wind, sniffing, sniffing. Meat! Throw it here. Here!
Pawing to meat, stones scratching skin. Devour. Not enough. Hungry, always hungry. Snuffling in dirt, more food, more food. Pawing at the roots, smell of earth. No food.
Black above, specked with white. So cold.
Grayness at the edge of black. Grows. Lightens. Water on my skin, falling on me. Colder.
She comes. I watch. Eyes soft, water there too.
She goes. Do not go .
Head lifted, lips open, teeth bared. Baying at the luminous white, disappearing.
Change. Change coming.
Urge to eat, urge to kill . . . receding.
Something more. There is something more.
Lingering fog.
Lifting fog.
CHAPTER 14
I prowl the night palace again, looking for the jackal. I search rooftop gardens where I watch the soft glow of the moon, and underground corridors lit by an occasional smoking torch burning low in the late watches of the night. I do not find him. My silent tread takes me to the throne room courtyard, to the low-hanging fronds that brush against my back as I pad along the path. So thirsty. The fountain bubbles and trickles and I approach, lean my head over its stone lip, and stare into the water at my reflection in the moonlight .
I have found the jackal .
Tia sucked in a ragged gasp of air and woke. Watery morning sunlight slanted across the floor of her bedchamber, striking a path across her eyes. She blinked against the intrusion, then reached a hand to the dust-sparkled beam, willing the sun to banish the terror.
I am not in my bed . The shock of finding herself the jackal in her dream surged again, like nausea, and Tia scrambled to sit upright, her eyes darting around the room. Her own bedchamber, but she was on the floor. Had she fallen and not awakened? Or did the dream have something of reality?
Before she was fully dressed, a male slave usually attendant on Amytis appeared at her door. Omarsa held the door ajar while Gula hastily wrapped Tia in a tunic.
The young man had the beautifully dark skin of Upper Egypt. The gold armbands her mother lavished on her slaves shone against his lean arms. “Your tutors await, my
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