The man’s head jerked in erratic nods.
“I didn’t know…” Amir trailed off. “I didn’t hear—”
“Of course you didn’t.”
Vasili took the knife from his brother’s hand, sank his grip into the sobbing man’s hair, yanked his head back, and cut his throat in one clean slice. Blood dashed Niko’s clothes and spattered those around them. Some gasped, but most stayed silent, frozen in place.
Vasili tossed the bloody knife onto the table, splattering more blood across the lily-white tablecloth, and strode from the room. It was minutes before the crowd carefully and quietly hurried away. It was longer when the body was collected, and longer still when the guards escorted Niko down familiar dungeon corridors.
This time, he was alone behind the bars.
He paced.
He should leave at the first opportunity. Just run. It was the sensible thing to do. Julian would come and unlock the cell. He’d let his guard down and Niko would fight him, if necessary. The Cavilles were insane. All of them. The city was rotten and cursed and he was done with them and it.
But then Julian was outside the bars, hesitating, his eyes haunted. “If you’re concerned about the doulos, don’t be. He was vile, said to touch children. Vasili has been looking for an excuse to kill him.”
Niko frowned. Was that supposed to make him feel better? The entire gods-damned palace was inhabited by killers. If Niko spent any longer inside its walls, he’d lose himself to the same darkness. He wet his lips, seeking the right words to convey what he thought and wrapped his fingers around the bars.
Julian looked up. “Thank you.”
“What for?”
“For standing up for Vasili.”
“That’s not why I hit him. I’ve seen elves cut fingers off men and worse. Such things are not for jest.”
Julian pulled a key from his pocket, slipped it in the lock, flicked it over, and swung the door open. “Leave.”
Niko hesitated, waiting for the trap to close.
“Just walk right out,” Julian urged. “There’s nobody else here. Nobody has to know I let you go. You slipped away and left the city.”
It should have been that easy, but his thoughts kept him rooted in place. He should leave, just walk right on out of this viper’s nest and never look back, so why hadn’t he left the cell?
“He’ll punish you,” Niko said. And knew it to be true.
Julian leaned against the open door, staring at the floor. “Probably.”
Niko dragged a hand through his hair and tore out the leather tie. “Dammit!” He stepped across the cell’s threshold, but he wouldn’t be leaving, and by the gods, he hated how this damned place pulled him back in. Whatever fucked-up thing was happening inside this palace, he couldn’t leave Julian. The prince could go fuck himself, but Julian didn’t deserve to suffer because Niko had run away. He’d never turned from a fight, never backed down. He’d have never surrendered to the elves if it weren’t for the king. And he wasn’t about to surrender to this wretched place and its curse now.
“I’m not leaving until this is dealt with.”
Julian lifted his head. Hope widened his eyes before the harder edge of scorn pushed that hope aside. “Why? Run, while you have the chance. There will not be another.”
Niko sighed hard. What else did he have to live for anyway? His life was here, now, in this cell, in this moment, staring another soldier in the eyes so they both knew they didn’t have to be alone. “I’m staying. On one condition.”
Julian’s frown made him look younger, he hadn’t been prepared for Niko to stay... for him.
“What condition?” the ex-soldier asked, his voice so soft the vast, cold cells almost swallowed it.
“My sword.”
“You want a sword? Vasili won’t—”
“Vasili doesn’t have to know, and not just any sword. My sword. It’s in the room I rented. I’ll give you the address.” He offered his hand. “Are we agreed?”
“You’re a fool,” Julian clasped his hand around Niko’s and smiled. “But I’ll get your sword, Nikolas Yazdan.”
Chapter 8
Niko woke early, alone in Julian’s chamber. As far as he knew, Julian hadn’t returned the night before. The bed lay undisturbed.
He dressed and shaved and decided to explore the palace before Julian could return and stop him. Corridors and staircases ran from one to another with no logical reasoning, likely due to the palace having been constructed around an ancient weather-beaten mountain. Its carved granite blocks followed rocky contours, making the palace appear to claw at the sky high above Loreen.
If this was to be the new battleground, he had to know its every inch. Servants regarded his passing warily. Some acknowledged him with a nod, but most ignored him completely. He assumed they knew he was Vasili’s doulos.
Parts of the palace were guarded or sealed behind locked doors. He’d try again later with Julian.
By the time Julian found him, it was long past midday. Niko had rearranged the furniture in the connecting room between Julian’s and the prince’s room to create a work space. He’d borrowed pencils and paper from a helpful servant and used them to scribble notes about the palace floorplan and its inhabitants.
“Perhaps I wasn’t clear enough, but you can’t walk about the palace like you own it,” Julian said by way of greeting, but the ire in his glare quickly turned to curiosity at the sight of Niko’s notes. He drifted closer to the table and examined the papers and maps Niko had drawn. Exits and entryways. Servants’ quarters, guest areas, entertaining areas, libraries, and private chambers. The more he’d scrawled, the more he’d come to understand how the Caville palace was a different place to the one that must have stood on the same foundations in ancient times. Generations of Cavilles had altered it over the years, sealing off redundant rooms, moving staircases to suit their whims, turning it into a maze for any visitor.
“There are gaps in my knowledge you’ll have to fill,” Niko explained, standing behind the table. “In fact, too much is unexplained. If the prince wishes me to help him find his assassin, I need answers beginning now.”
Julian’s pinched brow gave Niko pause. He’d forgotten he wasn’t on the front line distributing orders. Here, Niko was nothing. Julian was his commanding officer and the prince was… Well, the prince was a sharp thorn in Niko’s side.
“I can’t help without intelligence on the enemy,” Niko added, deliberately softening his tone.
Julian sighed and appraised the scattering of papers. “We’ll need wine.”
He left and returned a few minutes later with wine and a tray of fruit. “We have a few hours until Vasili’s council meeting adjourns. Time enough for you to explain all this to me.” He drew up a chair alongside Niko and immediately began studying the maps and papers, asking questions whenever something didn’t make sense.
“The sorcerer, whoever they are, clearly has knowledge of the palace to know where to send the fiend, correct?” Niko asked.
“Indeed.”
“But they didn’t know he no longer uses that room. So let’s begin at the bottom—the staff who have access to Vasili’s rooms. I want names of all those who personally serve the prince.” He pressed his pencil to the paper and waited for Julian to reply.