Shapeshifters (14 page)

I
DID AS
I
RENE HAD SUGGESTED, AND RETURNED
to the market, where shopkeepers directed me to Zane without my needing to ask. Someone near him drew his attention to me and I saw him tense for a moment before he turned around. I wondered whether he was thinking about Adelina.

“My exquisite Danica,” Zane greeted me, pulling me into a soft embrace in the marketplace. I lingered in his arms for a few long moments. Zane and I had perfected the appearance of an infatuated young couple. I was almost growing used to the little touches—a hand brushing a hand, his tendency to tuck loose golden hairs back from my face—that Zane added so easily to the play.

Remembering Irene's words, I wondered now if what I had taken to be a flawless act might really be more. It had been so long since we had been alone together, it was hard to know for sure.

Was I to blame for that distance?

“Danica, you must know Fisk?” Zane said lightly, referring to the metalworker he had been speaking with.

I did; Fisk Falchion was an avian man from the Aurita who had requested to trade in the serpiente market. There were serpents in our market now also, including a maker of the fine flutes used to accompany serpiente dance.

“Always a pleasure to see you,” Fisk greeted me.

“The trade is going well?” I inquired.

Fisk nodded. “There were a few troublemakers earlier, but they hurried off when Zane came by to speak to me,” he answered. “I don't think they will be back soon.” Fisk smiled, an expression of fatigue and contentment combined. “The market here is quite impressive. I had not thought it would be so.”

Bidding Fisk good day, Zane and I continued to walk in the market. “The Aurita has always been one of my favorite shops,” I confided. “I'm glad Fisk was brave enough to take a chance trading here.”

“He's a businessman,” Zane said with obvious pride. “Our market is not famous for its jew
elers, but our people are known for their love of beauty. For a man like Fisk, such an opportunity must have been the dream of a lifetime.”

“Do none of the guard follow you here?” I had not seen any since I had gone looking for Adelina earlier.

Zane shook his head. “It's unnecessary. The market sometimes gets a bit rowdy, but I've never had any trouble. Very few people would risk hitting their Diente even in the hottest temper, and if it occurs, I can defend myself in a casual brawl.” He added, “They are fond of you, Danica. I've had people come up to me, surprised at how much they like you. That being the case, my people—
your
people—will protect you from anyone who means you harm. Bringing the guard would cause more trouble than it is worth, because it would tell the people that I do not trust them.”

 

T
HE REST OF
the afternoon passed with safe, neutral conversation about pointless things like the price of ivory and how Chinese-style furniture was coming into fashion among both avian and serpiente craftsmen. We drifted from stall to stall, presented with free samples at every stop. I knew that Zane rarely dined in the palace hall for lunch, though I usually joined Irene and Charis there. After sampling the wares of every baker and chef who insisted on feeding us, I wished I had skipped the formal meal, too.

I pleaded an overfull stomach to avoid offending the chef who offered a taste of roast lamb fresh from the fire. Once we were beyond the hearing of the merchant, Zane said, “I've always wondered why you don't eat meat. I understand not wanting to dine on poultry, but even a natural hawk eats small game.”

“My great-grandmother Tuuli Thea Caylan could not stand the smell of cooked meat,” I explained, recalling the story. “She refused to let it be served in the Keep. Naturally, the cooks learned how to make dishes that Caylan would allow, and now meat is so uncommon in the Keep that I never acquired a taste for it.”

Zane appeared genuinely amused. “How utterly odd. Understand this means I must force you to try.” He paused, as if considering which of the many merchants prepared the best dish.

“Zane—”

“Now, now.” He led me back to the chef who had offered me the lamb a few minutes before. “If you've no moral or religious obligation against it, I cannot allow you to be closed-minded enough not to sample one of this wonderful cook's fine creations.”

The “wonderful cook” in question looked very flattered, and I had no doubt that he would have handed over the entire stand free of charge had Zane implied he wanted it.

“What is your masterpiece today?” Zane asked, his expression animated with mischief.

The chef did not hesitate to reply, “I've a wonderful piece of lamb simmered with wine and rosemary that I'm sure your Naga would enjoy.”

I resigned myself to tasting the cook's food, knowing that even if it was awful I would need to swallow and smile or else break the poor man's heart. Tentatively, I took the offered morsel and tried not to laugh as both Zane and the chef watched me intently for my reaction.

Come now, Danica,
I scolded myself.
You've walked onto the dais in the synkal, and now you need to gather your nerve to put food in your mouth?

Appropriately chastised, I tasted the lamb.

Though like nothing I had ever eaten before, it was delicious. My surprise must have shown on my face, for the chef grinned and even Zane smiled slightly.

“Does the lady like it?” the chef inquired, though he doubtless knew the answer.

“Wonderful,” I answered honestly. “Very … strange, but wonderful.”

Zane wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me close, a playful half-hug. “My brave Naga Danica,” he said, lightly teasing. To the cook he added, “We will be going back to the Hawk's Keep tomorrow morning, but perhaps
next time we are here you might be willing to prepare supper for the family?”

The chef was stunned. “I would be honored, milord. Thank you.”

Zane shook his head. “My thanks.”

 

W
E DID NOT
leave the market until after the sun had set. I could not imagine wanting supper after all I had eaten, and so I was glad when Zane passed by the dining hall with only a brief word of greeting to the occupants and a bid good night.

Zane's mood was still cheerful, but I felt some of the humor fade to contemplation as we walked in silent company back to our rooms.

“Your room, milady,” Zane said, with an attempt at lightness, as he opened my door for me. He drew me into a soft embrace as he had in the market, one of those delicate touches he seemed to bestow without thinking.

Was it true that, beneath the volatile exterior I had come to know, he was as hurt and maybe even as scared as I was? Recalling my conversation with Irene, I was determined not to chase him off tonight.

I felt the gentle pressure as Zane kissed my hair. This was the point at which I normally would have pulled away, but I forced myself to relax. Zane seemed to feel my acquiescence; he skimmed his fingers over my cheek and jaw, and tilted my face up.

He had kissed me before—as a challenge to my guards in the Mistari encampment, when I had thought myself to be sleeping, in the synkal in front of his people, before Adelina strode in the morning after the ceremony declaring me Naga.

Now when his lips touched mine, the gesture was as intense as the time in my own bedroom at the Keep, but as leisurely as the slow kiss we had shared in his. When I did not call a stop, he pressed a hand to my lower back, pulling me closer.

My hands had risen instinctively and had been resting on his shoulders as if I would push him back. I made the tight muscles loosen, and felt my hands flutter uncertainly.

Zane's lips moved to lay a brief kiss at the bend between my shoulder and neck, and then another just over my collarbone.

I had a moment's thought, as vivid as it was brief, of a cobra's fangs sinking into the skin his lips touched. For a moment I felt myself tense, pulling away fractionally, and I felt Zane hesitate, frozen for an instant.

“I'm sorry.” I didn't mean to say the words, wasn't sure what I was saying them for.

Zane raised his face, and despite my intent, I flinched at the expression in his garnet gaze, which had the heat of anger and the sharpness of pain and yet was somehow neither of those.

Just as unexpected was the sensation of falling as he released me, almost throwing himself back as he spun away. He tumbled awkwardly to his knees, breathing hard, until his forehead leaned against the wall.

Frightened and confused by the sudden withdrawal, I knelt by his side.

He recoiled and rose to his feet with the gracefully controlled violence of a serpiente soldier on the field. I froze when I saw his eyes flashing not with annoyance or amusement but anger, directed at me.

One, two, three paces backward, and then he turned from me, and I could tell he was going to leave me alone in my confusion.

It hurt to see him draw back from me, and I fought every instinct not to hide behind the comfortable reserve I knew so well. “Zane—”

He turned back to me and took a deep breath, his gaze holding me in place, frozen, as if I had met the gorgon's eyes, except for the frantic beat of my heart. “I do appreciate the effort, Danica. I enjoyed spending time with you in the market, and I'm glad to see you can be so comfortable around my people. But you're here alone with me now only despite your fear … and I'm not looking for that kind of sacrifice.” His voice softened as his anger simmered out. “I would be your lover if you would trust me, but I don't want you to come to me because you feel like it is
an … unpleasant duty. I would rather be your enemy than a meaningless obligation.”

My heart lurched into my throat at his words, and for a moment all I could do was stand dumbly. By the time I had unraveled my tongue to argue, he was continuing, the last of his rage gone.

“If you want to make the offer someday when it means something to you …” He shrugged, and for a moment the brilliant, charm-birds-from-their-nests smile was back, but then he was gone and I stood in shock.

He is wrong.
Whatever else our relationship might be, it could never be meaningless.

Heart still beating loud enough to wake the dead, I followed him into the hall, trying to discern which direction he had gone. In that moment of hesitation, my ears picked up a noise that registered as subtly wrong.

The sound came again: a familiar cry that raised the feathers on the back of my neck. Carefully but quickly I moved toward it.

Just a few paces beyond the hallway's bend, I saw two figures fighting. One was obviously Zane; his movements had the frightening fluidity of a serpiente warrior, and he fought as soundlessly as all his people. The only noise came from his opponent, and even that was so soft I would never have heard it had I not stopped in the hall.

The second figure was either a slender young
man or a plain, shapeless female; I suspected the first. The loose black clothing he wore left much to the imagination—as much as the silken scarf twined around the assassin's head, which showed only shadows over his eyes.

The word
assassin
came to my mind un-bidden, but as soon as I thought it, I knew it to be true. I also knew, from the style of his movements, that the attacker was probably avian. He was fighting with the long-bladed dirk many of the Royal Flight favored, and he guarded his back with the precision of a soldier who is used to defending wings.

Quickly my thoughts shifted. If the assassin was avian, caution made it reasonable to assume the blade of his weapon was poisoned. Depending on the strength, a scratch could kill; he did not even need to land a fatal blow.

I did not wait for an opportunity. Against avian poison, I was safer than Zane, and I hoped that even an assassin would hesitate to harm his Tuuli Thea. All but ignoring the weapon, I grasped the attacker from behind and dragged him backward to keep Zane from the range of his blade.

The assassin whirled, and I raised an arm to defend my face. I felt the knife cut through the flesh of my forearm and the heat of poison in the wound, but I also felt my attacker recoil. He had recognized me.

Obviously unwilling to continue the fight
with me in the middle, the assassin spun and took off down the hall.

Zane moved as if to follow, but then he turned to me.

“Danica, are you okay?”

I was going to say yes, I think, but at that moment the world warped and churned around me, and I stumbled back into the wall. Zane gathered me in his arms and hurried to pound on a doorway down the hall. Almost instantly four of the guard emerged.

“Adelina, we've had a run-in with an assassin, avian, I think. Danica's hurt. He went in the direction of the north exit.”

Adelina nodded sharply. “You, with me,” she ordered one of her men, who I recognized as Irene's mate, Galen. To the other two she said quickly, “You, stay with your Diente, and you, fetch the doctor and Danica's guard. Keep quiet,” she added, with a glance at Zane that lingered only a moment too long. “We don't want this hollered all over the palace.”

“Let's get her back to her room,” Adelina suggested, speaking to Zane, who nodded mutely. She added, “We wouldn't have moments like this if you shouted when attacked.”

Zane shook off the criticism. “The injury isn't bad, but …”

Time warped a bit right then. The next thing I knew, Andreios was bandaging my arm while
the doctor paced in the background. “It won't kill her,” I heard Rei explaining to Zane, “but—Danica, how do you feel?” he asked, noticing I was awake.

“Not well,” I responded. My throat felt dry.

“You'll be fine,” he assured me. “The poison must have been nearly pure to affect you this strongly, but it isn't designed to harm avians. You'll probably drift in and out for a while, and after that you might suffer dizzy spells for a couple …”