regalia of Iramis, the relics that would make Cassander a power in the Order.
“It is,” said Kalgri. “Else I would not have wasted my time with you.” Something like purple fire and shadow flashed in the depths of her eyes for a moment. “I would have killed you and forgotten about you.”
Cassander smiled at her, flexing his armored right hand. “You are welcome to try.”
For a moment they stared at each other, and Cassander wondered if he had pushed her too hard, or if she had decided to kill him for some unfathomable reason of her own. Then Kalgri smiled and pushed away from the desk, gazing through the open balcony doors at the darkened Alqaarin Quarter below. The transformation had altered her personality in addition to her face, had made her more mercurial, her actions harder to predict.
He would be a fool to think it had made her any less dangerous.
“Did you enjoy your meeting with Erghulan?” said Kalgri.
“Not in the least,” said Cassander.
“Mmm. I knew his father, too. He was a pompous fool, and his son is a pompous fool. It must run in the blood.” She looked at him and grinned. “Perhaps you can find out when you spill it.”
Cassander tried to keep the reaction from his face. Had Kalgri realized what he intended to do if Callatas would not open the Straits? He started to summon power for a spell, then realized that if the Red Huntress wanted to kill him, she would not bother talking first.
So. That meant she still wanted his help to kill Caina Amalas.
“I take it,” said Cassander, “that you are ready to strike at the Balarigar?”
“Soon,” said Kalgri. “Very soon now.”
“Then you know where she is?” said Cassander.
“More or less,” said Kalgri.
“Then,” said Cassander, rising from his chair, “I suggest that you tell me where she is, and I shall strike at once.”
“No,” said Kalgri.
“It will be difficult,” said Cassander, “to kill her without knowing her location.”
“If you go after her now, you will accomplish nothing, put her on her guard, and lose a great many of your men in the process,” said Kalgri. “Not that their lives are of any consequence. But you had your chance to kill her and you failed.”
“So did you,” said Cassander.
He heard the faint creak of her leather gauntlets as her hands curled into fists, and again purple fire flickered through her cold blue eyes.
“I did,” hissed Kalgri. “I am going to feast upon her death.” She shivered a little. “Soon. Very soon. Her death…and her death will be the gateway to so many others…”
“If you tell me her location,” said Cassander, taking a step closer to the Huntress, “I shall be most glad to assist you.”
Kalgri gave a nasty laugh. “I’m sure you would. Out of the generosity of your kindly heart? No. You are not a fool. We both failed to kill Caina, but we can help each other.”
She held something in her right hand, rolling it over her fingers. It was a short, curved knife. It looked a bit like a scaling knife, or perhaps the kind of knife a Teskilati torturer would use to peel the skin from a victim.
“An interesting blade,” said Cassander. “It looks too fragile to make an effective weapon.”
“It would be,” said Kalgri. “When used against flesh, surely. But this,” she tapped the flat of the blade against her fingers, “but this is a weapon against the mind.”
“When stabbed into the ear, I assume?” said Cassander.
That actually a brought a brief smile to her face. “No. Do you know what Caina’s strength is?”
“Her intellect?” said Cassander.
“That is one of them,” said Kalgri. “Her chief weapon, though, is her ability to acquire allies. She has gained some potent allies. The stormdancer.” Her lip curled in contempt. “Nasser Glasshand, who likes to masquerade as a thief. Morgant the Razor. Annarah, the last loremaster of Iramis.”
“Truly?” said Cassander. “She really found
“It is,” said Kalgri. “Else I would not have wasted my time with you.” Something like purple fire and shadow flashed in the depths of her eyes for a moment. “I would have killed you and forgotten about you.”
Cassander smiled at her, flexing his armored right hand. “You are welcome to try.”
For a moment they stared at each other, and Cassander wondered if he had pushed her too hard, or if she had decided to kill him for some unfathomable reason of her own. Then Kalgri smiled and pushed away from the desk, gazing through the open balcony doors at the darkened Alqaarin Quarter below. The transformation had altered her personality in addition to her face, had made her more mercurial, her actions harder to predict.
He would be a fool to think it had made her any less dangerous.
“Did you enjoy your meeting with Erghulan?” said Kalgri.
“Not in the least,” said Cassander.
“Mmm. I knew his father, too. He was a pompous fool, and his son is a pompous fool. It must run in the blood.” She looked at him and grinned. “Perhaps you can find out when you spill it.”
Cassander tried to keep the reaction from his face. Had Kalgri realized what he intended to do if Callatas would not open the Straits? He started to summon power for a spell, then realized that if the Red Huntress wanted to kill him, she would not bother talking first.
So. That meant she still wanted his help to kill Caina Amalas.
“I take it,” said Cassander, “that you are ready to strike at the Balarigar?”
“Soon,” said Kalgri. “Very soon now.”
“Then you know where she is?” said Cassander.
“More or less,” said Kalgri.
“Then,” said Cassander, rising from his chair, “I suggest that you tell me where she is, and I shall strike at once.”
“No,” said Kalgri.
“It will be difficult,” said Cassander, “to kill her without knowing her location.”
“If you go after her now, you will accomplish nothing, put her on her guard, and lose a great many of your men in the process,” said Kalgri. “Not that their lives are of any consequence. But you had your chance to kill her and you failed.”
“So did you,” said Cassander.
He heard the faint creak of her leather gauntlets as her hands curled into fists, and again purple fire flickered through her cold blue eyes.
“I did,” hissed Kalgri. “I am going to feast upon her death.” She shivered a little. “Soon. Very soon. Her death…and her death will be the gateway to so many others…”
“If you tell me her location,” said Cassander, taking a step closer to the Huntress, “I shall be most glad to assist you.”
Kalgri gave a nasty laugh. “I’m sure you would. Out of the generosity of your kindly heart? No. You are not a fool. We both failed to kill Caina, but we can help each other.”
She held something in her right hand, rolling it over her fingers. It was a short, curved knife. It looked a bit like a scaling knife, or perhaps the kind of knife a Teskilati torturer would use to peel the skin from a victim.
“An interesting blade,” said Cassander. “It looks too fragile to make an effective weapon.”
“It would be,” said Kalgri. “When used against flesh, surely. But this,” she tapped the flat of the blade against her fingers, “but this is a weapon against the mind.”
“When stabbed into the ear, I assume?” said Cassander.
That actually a brought a brief smile to her face. “No. Do you know what Caina’s strength is?”
“Her intellect?” said Cassander.
“That is one of them,” said Kalgri. “Her chief weapon, though, is her ability to acquire allies. She has gained some potent allies. The stormdancer.” Her lip curled in contempt. “Nasser Glasshand, who likes to masquerade as a thief. Morgant the Razor. Annarah, the last loremaster of Iramis.”
“Truly?” said Cassander. “She really found
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