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the Master would know to whom he did belong.
Because the merck had her twisted in knots. There. She'd been honest with herself and the
truth scared her. How in the hell had he gotten to her so fast?
In her hands, the bowl warmed and she quickly shifted it behind a large funerary urn that had
fallen on its side. She'd have to hope that the noise of the shifting rocks would mask a
whispered conversation.
The Master's face swam into sight above the bowl. "Miu?" he snapped. Damn. His cold
irritation almost froze her and the temperature in their prison was sweltering. It was never
wise to irritate the Master.
"I'm here," she said. "You rang. I answered."
"Report," he said. "Have you gotten the necklace?" Had his eyes softened? An illusion. She
examined his face, looking for clues. Some emotion was flickering in his eyes, but for all she
knew, that could have been the effects of last night's dinner come back to haunt him. She'd
wondered before if he felt something for her besides pride in a student well trained, but there
was just no telling. The Master showed nothing. Gave away nothing.
"Complications. I need more time." He'd originally given her only one week to reach the
temple, steal the necklace, and bring it back to him. It would take three days just to make the
return trip; there was no way she'd get back in time. And, since he had her sister, he would
undoubtedly make an example of her. Panic surged and Miu fought it back.
"You did not expect complications?" His tone was mocking, but he was listening. Maybe she
could convince him.
"Not this sort." She made sure she kept her eyes fixed firmly on his, showing no weakness.
"You sent others in after me," she accused.
"Of course." He steepled his fingers beneath his chin and nodded for her to continue.
"One of them was a banshee. She screamed the place down around my ears." She didn't want
to push her luck by pointing out that one of his flunkies had jeopardized the entire operation;
she figured the Master would be able to connect those dots all by himself. He hadn't clawed
his way to the head of a wide-flung network of thieves by being stupid.
"Did she?" He might have been discussing the weather. Across the room Jafar's head swung
slowly toward her. For a moment, she thought his features took on a distinctly feline cast and
then the impression was gone.
"She did. Took out one of your other thieves as well. Burst his eardrums. Stupid, really. The
noise of the massive rockslide she started well, let's just say that the Guardians would have
to be really, really deaf not to have heard this one. And here we are trapped and waiting for
them."
This time, the Master winced. "Right," he said. "She shouldn't have done that."
"Give me an extension."
"I do have a policy," Lierr replied, casually inspecting his fingers, "of not granting extensions.
You work with what you've got. Get back here in four days and" he shrugged "you'll still
have a sister. I could let you choose." The smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "Pick the part of
her you'd like to keep intact. "
Panic threatened to choke her. "Hurt her," she threatened, "and I won't come back at all. No
necklace." She smiled sweetly. "You can torture me to death from where you are, but you still
won't have the necklace. How many of us did you send down here? The three on my heels are
toast. And the Guardians are doubtless racing here right now. I'm your last shot."
This time, the Master's smile was overtly cruel. "You've still got just four days. Four days for
your sister to live. Your choice."
"What about the merck?" Now was the time to find out for certain whether or not the Master
had sent Jafar.
"The merck?" Something in the Master's voice made her pause. "You're not alone?" His dark
eyes seemed to bore into her surroundings from the hazy aura above the bowl, even though
she knew the mazhyk had its limits and he could no more see her prison than she could his
elegant set of rooms.
"No. I've got company. One of yours?" His eyes sharpened. Next moment, it felt like she'd
been hit by a speeding daemon. The bowl bounced, cracking on the stone floor as Jafar
knocked it from her hands.
Miu smelled of despair, fear seeping from her body like some rank perfume. Her hands had
cupped a small metal bowl, above which an image had formed.
Why had she been frightened of the person to whom she was speaking? Nothing no one
scared his Miu.
He hadn't realized until now that he admired that quality in her. She'd go toe to toe with him
even if she knew who he was.
What he was.
She had to be communicating with the master thief, the male she called the Master. Stalking
across the room had been an easy call to make, as had been knocking the bowl onto the hard
floor. Clearly spellbound, the bowl neither shattered nor spilled, a wavering image slowly
reforming over the charmed water.
"What are you doing?" she screeched, grabbing for the bowl. Luckily for him, his arms were
longer. Wrapping one hard arm around her waist to pin her in place, he easily grabbed the
bowl first.
"Who's in the bowl?" The bespelled water remained firmly inside the bowl, even when he
tipped the container upside down.
She scowled. "It's mine. Give it back."
Not likely. Not until he knew with whom she was trying to communicate and why. Every
sense he had screamed this was an important clue in unraveling the puzzle that was his Miu
he was hardly going to hand it back over. For the first time, he felt like he was really getting
somewhere.
"Manners," he said calmly, not betraying his sudden inner turmoil. She growled what sounded
suspiciously like a curse. Hunkering down on the floor, he cupped the metal bowl between his
hands. The metal warmed, its liquid surface stirring. As the aura sharpened again, cursing
filled the room.
Male cursing.
Unfamiliar jealousy ate at him: she was supposed to turn to him. Instead, she was relying on
some unseen stranger who was little more than a useless astral projection in a bowl of dirty
water. Jafar was a Guardian; protecting was second nature to him. So why did he suddenly
feel so unsure of himself? He didn't get the sense that she trusted this other male but she
didn't distrust him, either. Which made the unseen male a threat.
Competition.
"Miu? What the hell just happened?" The bowl vibrated with outrage.
Lifting the bowl, Jafar kept his face concealed. No point in tipping his hand not yet. His
companion's ignorance about who and what he was worked to his advantage.
"No," he said when Miu reached for the bowl. His low growl made it clear that he would not
be crossed in this. Cursing, she backed against the far wall, rummaging in that damn bag of
hers. Probably looking for one of that impressive collection of knives she'd been toting about. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]