it in for Rthan now. But it was one of his companions, a warrior whom Rthan did not know well, who broke down first, wailing like a baby, pleading for death. Rthan couldn’t pity him. His weakness only made it harder for the rest of them.
“I curse the womb that bore me!” screamed the pathetic coward. “I curse the fool that sired me! I curse the tribe of Blue Waters!”
“Grant him mercy,” ordered the bear masked man.
One of the dancers plunged his dagger into the Blue Water warrior’s heart. His body sagged like a deflating water skin.
“You see how easy that was?” the bear masked leader asked Rthan.
“Come closer …” rasped Rthan. “… so I can spit in your other eye!”
“All of you focus on this one!” roared the leader, infuriated. “Break him first! The others will fall after their hero does!”
The whole bunch of them, masked like terrible beasts, closed in on him. They whirled and stomped around him, the invisible fae too, he was sure of it, and he felt vigor sweep back into his limbs. Damn them seven times, they were healing him again. For once, his strong body was only a burden to him. The longer his body kept him alive, the longer he would have fight the temptation to break down and beg.
“Now…” began the bear masked leader, full of malice and glee, but before he could complete his threat, an unmasked warrior jogged up to the circle and whispered something to him. T he growling of the Yellow Fae quieted, and the human dancers in their bear furs stepped back. He shook his head and snapped something back, but after a few minutes of argument (Rthan thought he heard, “Mine!” and “Hertio” and “outtriber”), the bear masked leader stalked away, evidently in disgust. A sept of w arriors came to untie Rthan from the post. The way they grinned at him warned him that though the Torture Dance might be over, whatever awaited him would be no better fate.
Dindi
Dindi did feel as wobbly as a three-footed goat when she returned to Kavio with a stone bowl of water. Her stomach clenched, and her head felt dizzy. As she set down the bowl on the table in front of him, her bare arm brushed his bicep. He watched her silently.
She took his hands in hers.
“I can do it myself,” he said. But he made no effort to pull away.
Her lashes brushed her cheeks. She couldn’t meet his eyes. Instead, she concentrated on his hands. They were large, well formed, with calluses that indicated he knew his way around a bow.
When had Abiono and Brena discovered that the man they had sent away like a beggar was the most powerful Zavaedi in Faearth, and an honored guest of the War Chief of Yellow Bear? They were both fawning over Kavio. Dindi had wanted to apologize to Kavio for snubbing him before, but there was no way she could say anything now. He would think she only wanted to ingratiate herself because she’d discovered he had a Shining Name.
“Thank you, I think they’re clean now,” he said, faintly amused. Dindi realized that she had been scrubbing his hands for over a minute. She blushed and dropped his hands like hot coals.
Kavio turned away from her, back to the conversation at the table. The young man named Zumo had started another argument.
“It is an insult,” Zumo said hotly, “a slap in our face, to raise a man exiled by our tribe to train your army. What else must we conclude except you are planning to raise that army against the Labyrinth? Danumoro, even you must see that!”
Danumoro said, “It is troubling, Hertio.”
“Nonsense,” said Hertio. “Only a tribe that viewed Yellow Bear as an enemy would conclude such a thing. As far as I am aware, the Rainbow Labyrinth is our ally. Or are you saying it is otherwise, Zumo grandson of the Bone Whistler?”
Zumo scowled.
“Speaking of our enemies, I have a gift for Kavio.” Hertio motioned, and several warriors responded. They dragged one of the Blue Waters prisoners up the stone steps and forced the huge, muscular
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