The Shadow Games: The Chronicles of Arianthem VI by Samantha Sabian Page A

gossiped about everything, this was significant.
    “You dislike her?” Raine asked.
    “No. I don’t like or dislike her. She—,” Dagna paused, as if trying to formulate words for her feelings. “She is difficult to grasp, to get a sense of. She has neither friends nor enemies and keeps to herself. She has been in the court for years.”
    “I confess I didn’t even see her,” Feyden said.
    Raine glanced at him in surprise. Feyden missed nothing.
    “I believe your sister is trying to get your attention,” Dagna said, grabbing Feyden’s arm and pointing across the room. “Let me escort you back over there before she exiles you.”
    Raine was left alone in the back of the room once more and positioned herself near the doorway with her back to the wall. She resumed her perusal of the room’s occupants, mildly entertained. She leaned against the wall, arms crossed comfortably over her chest. Although she was still alert to potential danger, everything seemed calm.
    Suddenly, the hair on the back of her neck stood up. She pushed herself upright. There was a presence next to her in the doorway, one that had slipped up beside her nearly imperceptibly. Very slowly, Raine turned her head to look at the dark-cloaked figure next to her.
    She could see a face that possessed a funereal beauty, ancient yet ageless. Pale eyes that were neither green nor blue, arched eyebrows, a fine, aquiline nose, sharp cheekbones. And Raine’s hood had slipped slightly and now the woman could see her as well. The pale eyes examined her with the same thorough scrutiny.
    Raine said nothing, simply stood there as the woman examined her from head to toe, and Raine felt the markings on her arms and back rise to the surface, the blue and gold filigree woven beneath her skin that marked her as Scinterian, the scars she hid to disguise her heritage, the scars that marked her as one of the most deadly creatures in all of Arianthem. And Raine was thankful for her cloak, for the markings were still hidden when danger made them appear against her wish.
    “Are you cold?”
    The words were mocking, the tone sensual, a casual question that was anything but. Raine’s breath came out as ice, visible in the warm air, and the woman looked at the phenomenon with considerable amusement. Then, without another word, she turned away and disappeared through the doorway.
    Raine leaned back against the wall and pulled her hood close about her face, then stared out into the full room at nothing. She was not afraid, for little frightened her. But she was troubled by the strange encounter. When purity met pure evil, the result, strangely enough, was always cold.
    And right now, Raine was freezing.
    Much later, Raine lie in her bed in Fireside, staring up at the ceiling. Feyden had returned to the elven embassy with his sister. Lorifal was passed out in the main hall in front of the fireplace, having spent the day carousing with Rika and Dallan. The two Ha’kan had retired to their quarters early. Idonea had returned late, entertained Raine with a recount of an illicit encounter in an alcove with the Knight Commander, then made as if to retire herself. Raine asked her if she had noticed anyone odd at the gathering. Idonea related she had felt the presence of dark magic, but confessed she had been distracted and did not see anyone.
    So Raine lie in her bed staring at the flickering light from the fire on her ceiling. She was restless, unable to form any coherent thoughts about the Emperor’s advisor, or about their strange encounter. It seemed random by design, an arranged exchange without meaning, or at least without a meaning she could decipher.
    She sat up abruptly. Then, with growing conviction, she donned her armor and set out into the night.
    Raine used the credentials Nerthus had provided her to get through the main gate of the castle. She then slipped through the palace with very little effort, something that would have spoken ill of the imperial guard had her