The Devil's Concubine (The Devil of Ponong series #1) (10 page)

“Is your hand any better?” Kyam asked.

“No, but I care less about the pain. I guess
that’s something.”

“Did it ever occur to you that the murderer
might give your name to the authorities? He might have meant for you to be
found in the room with her,” Kyam said.

“He? So it was a man?”

“General, non-specific he, the same way you
refer to all monkeys as he.”

“I refer to the female monkeys as she, but we’re
getting off topic again.”

It was a mistake to spend time with Kyam. Her
normal defenses were shattered, and he was too easy to talk to, too reasonable,
except for the anger he directed at Jezereet. QuiTai had to think about her
loyalties, and they sure as hell didn’t lie with a Thampurian spy.

She felt Kyam turn, and she looked over her
shoulder at him.

“This is getting us nowhere,” he said.

“I still refuse to pin it on a Ponongese. You
are aware that my people are
people
,
right? Actual thinking, feeling humans. Not snakes. It’s not as if we’re
shifters too.”

He bristled. “Shifters aren’t animals.” When
she grinned slightly, she could see him force his temper aside. “Okay, fine. And
I won’t implicate Thampurians, so quit saying we should accuse the chief
justice of the colonial government.”

“You have no idea how dangerous that man is.
Besides they wouldn’t hang a Thampurian for killing an Ingosolian prostitute.
They save those punishments for the Ponongese.”

“You always have to slip in that lecture
about politics, as if I’m personally responsible for everything every
Thampurian has ever done.”

He had a point. Still, if he would agree that
Thampurian rule was unjust, she might back off. And he worked for the
government, which certainly made him guilty of something.

The steady sound of the pouring rain made her
sleepy. Even though it was warm in the kitchen, she kept the blanket around her
shoulders.

It had been a while since her last crying
jag. Bit by bit, she pried grief from her heart. She accepted that she was
fated to find Jezereet’s killer and make him pay for his crime, because the
sense of cold calm it brought her was the only way she knew to keep going.

Why kill Jezereet, who had never harmed
anyone? Who was doomed anyway? It might make sense to kill QuiTai, but why
Jezereet?

“You’re awfully quiet. Nodding off?” Kyam
asked.

“Thinking.” QuiTai sipped her drink. It
helped when he talked. It stopped her from spiraling down too far into her
thoughts.

“You realize we’ve limited ourselves to about
one percent of the island’s population.” Kyam hopped off the chopping block and
gripped it to steady himself.

“You also narrowed my list of suspects
considerably.”

Kyam grimaced as if he had just lost a point
in a game. Then he pushed away his glass of rum. “I don’t suppose you’d be
willing to turn in the Devil, would you?”

“That’s not an option.”

“Why not? Unless he’s just a myth.”

“What a thing to say. Of course he’s real.”

“No one has ever seen him. But everyone knows
you.” Kyam poked her arm with an unsteady finger.

“Stop that.” QuiTai clumsily shoved his hand
away. She slid off the block to stand up to him. Her brain felt as if it
floated. “I think I better stop drinking now.”

He picked up the bottle and shook it. “I like
you drunk. You haven’t insulted me for over two hours.”

“More reason to sober up. You should slow
down too, or you’ll be too drunk to tell the soldiers who to arrest, and then
where will we be?”

“We’d feel like better people.”

“Don’t fool yourself. Even having this
conversation has soiled our souls forever.”

“Then decide. Don’t you know anyone who
deserves to hang? With all those criminals in the Devil’s organization, one of
them has to be guilty of a capital crime. Someone you don’t like?”

“I have nothing against them, but have you
thought of the Ravidians?” QuiTai asked.

“I certainly have, but for now, I need them
alive. Come on. You know the dregs of society. Who’s a villain?”

Ivitch. Of course. Why hadn’t she thought of
him sooner?

Kyam shook his finger at her again but didn’t
poke her. “You have that look on your face. Tell me.”

Petrof would never forgive her if he ever
found out. She grimaced. Ivitch had surely told Petrof some story about how she’d
failed with the dirt Thampurian. Petrof might never give her a chance to tell
her version; but with Ivitch out of the way, she’d have a better shot at
earning her way back into his good graces.

“All right. Don’t. Protect people who don’t
deserve protection. I’ve decided anyway.” Kyam grabbed a hearth shovel and
banked the glowing coals in the cooking pit together.

This would be interesting. “Who?”

“Ivitch.”

She gasped. “How did you –”

Kyam leaned forward as if he were afraid he’d
miss the next words out of her mouth.

“Are you trying to get me to tell you who the
Devil is? Never,” she snapped. “But I think we’ve reached an agreement on the
official sacrifice. And just in case you have any qualms tomorrow morning when
your head is clear and you start trying to have a conscience again, Ivitch
killed a Thampurian citizen after you left us at the harbor. So technically he’s
due for hanging anyway.”

“That proves one thing at least. Ivitch isn’t
the Devil. You’d never give your lover up that easily, even if he abandoned you
to suffer alone down in the harbor. You’re stubbornly loyal to people who don’t
deserve your affection.”

“Ivitch didn’t touch me. He wouldn’t dare. I
was hurt after he left. He doesn’t know.”

Kyam raised his hands to the roof as if
inviting the gods to join their conversation. “And now you’re covering for him
too. Unbelievable.” His arms fell to his sides. It seemed he couldn’t bear to
look at her until he swiftly turned back to her, hand outstretched. “Look at
the way you’re able to predict what will happen when Jezereet’s body is found
– and yes, I think you’re dead right. You’re twenty steps ahead of
everyone, even in your condition. But for such a smart woman, you’re a marvel of
selective vision.”

“Who should I be loyal to? You?”

“Of all the people you know, I’m the only one
who protected you tonight.”

“I didn’t ask you to.” She smoothed her
sarong. “If Ivitch is captured alive, he may implicate me in that death, and
nothing, not even the Zul family money, can protect me from the rope if he
does. So if you want me to help you with the Ravidians, you’re going to have to
protect me from your government.”

Grudgingly, Kyam laughed. “You really are
unbelievable.” He cleared his throat when he saw her scowl. “Does Ivitch have
good cause to implicate you? Are you guilty?”

“If my word means anything to you, no, I’m
not. I most explicitly warned Ivitch not to kill the man. The dirt Thampurian
was an informant who could have told me about the crates the Ravidians smuggled
onto the island. Ivitch ignored my orders.”

Kyam set down the iron shovel. “I knew it!
You do have information on the Ravidians. What was in the crates?”

“You and the Devil would love to know the
answer to that.”

“How about you? Aren’t you curious?”

“I –” She stopped herself abruptly. She
was speaking far too much. Talking to Kyam was effortless, as if the words
flowed of their own accord. Either he’d spent the entire last year studying her
to find a way through her defenses, or he was unaware of how he affected her.

“Not even the tiniest bit curious? Come on.
That’s not the QuiTai I know.” Grinning, he gently bumped her with his
shoulder.

He probably didn’t mean anything by it other than a friendly gesture,
but that was dangerous enough. She steeled her mind and moved away from him. “I
only want to know who killed Jezereet.” Everything else – the crates, the
Ravidians, everything – were simply coins that would buy that
information. She didn’t owe it to Kyam to be sweet. Her suspicious nature had saved
her life many times, and if it hurt his precious manly feelings, that was
just too bad. Jezereet had tried to be the accommodating hostess when a cunning
monster showed up at her door, and look where that got her.

The
rum and
the sound of the rain that fell through the night worked their
magic to lull QuiTai to sleep, but every time she moved, pain shot through her
hand and woke her. After a difficult night of tossing and turning, her
unbraided hair was a mess. Her clothes from the day before stank of sweat and
vinegar. As she reluctantly considered putting them on, Kyam knocked quietly at
the door of the cook’s quarters. When she opened the door, a soft pink batik
print sarong and blouse lay folded neatly on the floor. It wasn’t a color she
would have chosen, but the blouse fit, and it was better than wearing her
soiled clothes another day. He’d even left her a bowl of water, a sliver of fragrant
soap, and a wash cloth.

From the pile of
blankets on the floor outside the door, she guessed he had slept there while
she took the only cot.

When she joined him
in the kitchen, he wore fresh clothes too. He offered her a bowl of fritters. “I
went shopping right after sunrise. These are cold already, if you trust me
enough to eat them.”

“You seem to want me
alive, for now, so I’ll risk it.”

QuiTai climbed
gingerly onto the chopping block rather than take one of the low stools near
the cooking pit. Her feet dangled above the floor. She bit into a sweet fritter,
while Kyam frowned at his reflection in a narrow, stained mirror fragment
hanging from the roof’s support beam.

“Why don’t you do
that in the house? You can’t even see your entire face in that mirror,” she
said. She got down from the block and reached for his ear. She pinched his
earlobe much harder than she needed to. He flinched. “Stay still,” she said, “unless
a dollop of shaving cream on your ear is the latest in Thampurian fashion. And
you missed that spot on your cheek you always do.”

His hand slid over his face in search of the errant whiskers.

“I’ll do it.” She reached for the razor on the sideboard.

Kyam snatched it first. “Only a fool would hand you a straight razor.”
He turned his head and tried to see the spot he’d missed.

“Don’t be an idiot. I won’t kill you until you tell me who killed
Jezereet.” She lightly pushed on his arm. “And share the mirror. Do you have a
hair brush? I need to plait my hair.” She’d never go out in public with it
loose, as if she were a child.

When he gave her space to look at herself, she saw that her throat was
bruised. She stepped closer and spread the neckline of her blouse. That
explained why it hurt so much. “Mister Zul?” She turned to him.

“I told you that we’d talk about what happened last night after you
helped me with the Ravidians.”

“You said you’d give me the name of the murderer. That’s different.”

“You are a sargasso sea.” He clipped each word with terse precision.

“I take it that’s a Thampurian insult.”

“Literally, it means you’re seaweed blocking my shipping lane.
Metaphorically, it means you’re a massive pain in my a– backside.”

That gave her more satisfaction than it should have. “Afraid that I’ll
figure out the culprit on my own?”

“You have a remarkable ability to add one and one and come up with five.
The description of the murderer is the only leverage I have. I can’t risk
slipping up, not around you.”

It was strange to be with someone who complimented her, even when he
was furious with her. Petrof always said that her abilities were annoying. “How
about an exchange? I’ll answer your questions if you answer mine.”

Kyam shook his head. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned from you, it’s
that I don’t ask the right questions. So I’d rather you volunteered
information.”

“You’re the one with the pressing timetable. Jezereet is beyond my
help.”

The muscles along his jaw line flexed. Too bad. If he’d let himself
speak, it would no doubt have been an impressive string of curses. “Sit down.
Let me see your hand.”

QuiTai held out her hand. Her head ached a bit from the rum, and
the dull throb in her throat still nagged at her, but her heart hurt much more.

Today is my first day without
Jezereet. For now and forever.

Underneath her grief she felt a terrible relief, the sense that a great
burden had been lifted from her. She wouldn’t have to watch Jezereet decline
into the vapor like that dirt Thampurian. Jezereet would never strike her
out of frustration again. Petrof would never again be able to use black lotus
to coerce her. She was free.

She hated herself for even thinking it.

Kyam unwrapped the bandage and held her fingers gently as he turned her
hand to the daylight streaming through the window screen. “Why does it worry me
when you get quiet?”

“The Devil often says the same thing.”

He dripped vinegar over the welt. “And how do you answer him?”

“Sometimes with more silence.”

He pulled a stool toward himself and sat. His long legs were ungainly
in such a low seat with his knees up to his chin, but he didn’t seem to care.

“How did you manage to get stung by a sea wasp when they live off the
west coast of the continent? Nearly two thousand miles away?”

She studied her scar. “How do you know what it was? Can you be sure?”

“Yes.”

Realizing that was all he planned to say, she said, “It’s a long story.”

“I’m listening.”

He’d changed, she realized. The easy camaraderie from the night before
was gone. He seemed more determined. Even though she, for once, towered over
him, he still managed to be menacing. That dangerous aura sent a familiar rush
through her body, one she normally only felt around Petrof. And Kyam’s intense
concentration made her nervous. Could he sense her thoughts?

“Do the soldiers know that Jezereet is dead yet?” QuiTai asked.

Kyam looked angry. “Her, again. The Red Happiness was quiet this
morning.”

“They’ll know soon. A servant checks on her every morning.”

In a swift movement, he came to his feet. As usual, he stood too close;
only instead of making her angry, this time she wanted to wrap her fingers in
his hair and bring his mouth down to hers for a kiss. What was she thinking? She
couldn’t even look at him, because all she saw was the finely tailored shewani
jacket that fit his muscular chest like a second skin; all she felt was the
promise of danger that set her blood on fire like nothing else.

He still trapped her hand. Her fingers throbbed. He said, “One wonders
how you know the daily routine of the Red Happiness. And about the secret
passage inside it. But we can discuss that later. Now I’d like to talk about
what happened to your hand.” Kyam’s grip on her fingers tightened. “Lady
QuiTai, how did you come by this scar?”

Even though it hurt enough to bring a tear to the corner of her eye,
she pushed her hand toward him, twisted it, and escaped from his grasp. She
cradled her hand in her lap. “No need to be so primitive.”

“You didn’t even consider telling me how much that hurt. Are you so used
to pain?”

“Are you so used to hurting people?” she asked.

“If I have to.”

Something in his tone made her believe him. And the information about
her hand was covered in their agreement about exchanging information…

She said, “Yesterday, after you left me at the harbor, I stayed behind
to conduct a bit of the Devil’s business. Which is rapidly becoming
indistinguishable from your business.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and nodded.

“We believe that the Ravidians smuggled something onto the island. Not
a simple task. Your soldiers and the harbor master are vigilant tax collectors.”

That wasn’t strictly true. It was easy to bring contraband through the
harbor, as long as one were willing to pay the ‘enhanced’ tax, and didn’t care
that it went directly into the harbor master’s pocket. But Kyam didn’t need to
know about that; it was, as she often phrased it, the Devil’s business.

“The dirt Thampurian rumored to have helped the Ravidians was the
harbor master’s brother.” She tilted her head, expecting him to say something.
His expression didn’t change. “If the dirt Thampurian had been paid in money,
he would have bought black lotus from the Devil’s men. But they hadn’t seen
him. I think the Ravidians paid him directly in black lotus. But for what? They
aren’t moving goods through the markets as far as we can tell.”

“Continue.”

“Someone helped them move their shipment, and I’m fairly certain by now
that those crates never made it upslope to Levapur. The dirt Thampurian was a
heavy vapor user. The living dead. There’s no way he would have had the
strength to sail his skiff out of the harbor, especially with the rough seas
from the typhoon. The harbor master, however...”

“What does that have to do with your hand?”

“I warned you that it’s a long story. Don’t make the mistake of
thinking I’m trying to entertain you. Every part of this story is fulfillment
of my end of our arrangement.” But QuiTai took a private moment to decide how
much of the whole story she was honor-bound to tell. “After you left the harbor
yesterday, Ivitch and I boarded the dirt Thampurian’s skiff. Ivitch got rough
and strangled him before I could question him. Ivitch took off, leaving me
behind.”

“Get to the part where you got stung.”

“I had to hide on the boat until sunset. It was filthy. Little bits of
garbage, murky puddles of sea water... my hand slipped into one, and intense
pain shot up my arm, and then I saw the stinger, and I knew...”

“Knew what?”

Everything except how to make a profit from
the Ravidian’s plot
. But she
wasn’t about to tell Kyam that. With a slight shake of her shoulders, she sat
up straight. “This may sound melodramatic, but for a while, I honestly thought
I might die.”

“Many people do die
from those stings. If you’d touched a few more, your heart wouldn’t have
recovered from the shock.”

“There were moments yesterday where death looked like the better option.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you got a sea wasp sting on a boat
in Ponong’s harbor.”

“I think it does, Mister Zul. Now we know what the Ravidians
smuggled onto the island.”

Kyam’s brows furrowed and he stared speechless for a moment. Then: “Sea
wasps? Why? They could catch them off their coast.”

“It’s fairly obvious.”

“To you, maybe.”

Her lips curved. He really didn’t see it. If he needed her to spell it
out, it would cost him. “Why do you care what the Ravidians smuggled onto
Ponong, Mister Zul?”

“That’s my business, and none of yours. Just accept that I’m very
interested and won’t rest until I find out.”

Kyam Zul might have thought his business was all that mattered, but she
had other duties that didn’t stop for his convenience. When he was long out of
the picture, the Devil’s business would remain. She couldn’t lose sight of that.
She said, “Well, I had several hours on the boat yesterday to mull it
over, and I was up most of last night. I’ll be glad to take you through the
steps.”

“Go ahead. I’m listening.”

“Not yet, Mister Zul. The soldiers will have been summoned to the Red
Happiness by now. Time for you to convince them that Ivitch is their man.”

~ ~ ~

The typhoon shutters on the upstairs veranda of the
residential building inside Kyam’s compound were closed. Ferns sprouted from
the stucco walls. The jungle erupted through the tiles in the courtyard.

They passed the
festoon gate that joined the inner courtyard to the small outer courtyard. The
red, green, blue, and gold paint on the four pillars was faded, but the carved
sea dragons wrapped around them were still visible, as were the small snakes
with caricatures of Ponongese faces crushed under their talons.

“That’s subtle,” QuiTai said.

“We can talk politics some other time. Or you can talk, and I’ll ignore
you like I always do.”

“One day, Mister Zul, you’re going to find yourself caring more about
politics, and you’ll wish you’d paid more attention.”

“One of your visions of the future?”

“You could call it that.” It was the Oracle’s vision, but she’d learned
not to mention the Oracle to anyone.

She followed him around a privacy wall covered in aqua blue tiles
bearing the Zul family chop. He raised a finger. “You’re either about to tell
me that a proper safe house isn’t held in your family name, or that I’m an
idiot for staying in that apartment when I could be living here. Save your
breath. This was nearby, and you were in no shape to travel.”

“Actually, I was going to say that you’re not much of a morning person.
I pity the poor man or woman who wakes up beside you.” She smiled sweetly and
batted her eyelashes. After their odd truce the night before, a return to their
regular banter was a welcome normality.

“At least my lovers wake up,” he said.