All the blood flowed out of his face. “You’re a mimic.”*
She clapped her hands together, a happy child delighted at the compliment. “Someone’s been paying attention to his children’s stories.” Her body shifted then, flickered, and for one brief second, he saw her as a mirrored reflection of his own form before she was a beautiful woman again. “Of course, that was an improvisation. True mastery of your form will come after snack time.”
“Oh goddess.”
“Gods can’t save you, sweet.” She was calm as she walked toward him and he backed up. “Believe me, I know. I used to be quite devout in my day, and when I really needed my goddess, where was she? Nowhere in the City, let me assure you.”
“What have you done with Ola?”
“She’s up in one of the cribs banging some cute whore.” The mimic lowered her voice to a stage whisper. “Doesn’t know this is happening.”
“But I saw Ola—” His eyes widened. “That was you? You let me walk in here, knowing what I’d find?”
“What can I say, darling? I like to play with my food. I wanted to see how you’d take the news. Rather deliciously, in fact. Now instead of three brains to eat, I have seven to add to my collection. It’s a good thing I can’t overeat.”
“I can pay you.”
“Oh, that’s sweet—but I don’t do this for money.” She grinned. “I can’t wait to see the look on Ola’s face when she walks in here and sees what I’ve done with you. It will be worth so many years of aggravation. I think I’m going to torture her to death. Slowly. Oh, truly, this will be an evening to savor through the centuries.”
Kihrin frowned. “You—wait—this is because of Ola? I thought—Darzin D’Mon—”
Talon paused. A petite frown crossed her features. “You did mention him earlier. What did you say your name was again?”
“I didn’t.”
“Kihrin?” She cocked her head.
“Stay out of my mind!” He backed up.
“Kihrin.” She said his name again, pronouncing it wrong.* “Different color hair—” Her eyes widened. “She kept you? Ola kept you here?”
Her eyes wound their way up and down his body as if he were a rare work of art. “I can’t believe—why that crafty little cunt.” When her eyes reached his face, she gave him a warm smile. Her expression was joyful. “You have a necklace. The Stone of Shackles. Oh, never mind the name. You probably don’t have any clue what its real name is. To you, it’s just a blue stone wrapped in gold. It would have been with you when Ola found you in Arena Park.”?
“Ola didn’t find me in Arena Park.”
She laughed. “Oh yes, she did. Oh yes. She did. I was there. I was there with my hands wrapped around that little bitch’s stinking throat—” She reached out to the air, as if she could still see the memories in front of her. Her whole body shifted again to the form of a man he didn’t recognize, before returning to the original form once more. She closed her eyes for a second and shuddered. “Sorry. Sometimes he slips out. Jerk thinks that just because he killed me that gives him special rights or something.”
He would never get past her. His fingers tightened their grip on the mace.
Talon lifted a hand toward him. “And I was about to kill you.” She started laughing hysterically. “Ohhh, well! That would have been—oh. That was close.” She grinned and fanned herself with a hand. “That was very close. To think I almost made the same mistake my murderer did. Trust me: never kill the person who is wearing the Stone of Shackles. Disaster, every time.” She made a swiping motion with both hands.
Kihrin paused. “Wait—are you saying you don’t want to kill me?”
“Kill you? Oh darling! That would be terrible. Trust me, that’s the last thing you want me to do.”
Kihrin looked nonplussed. “Uh … yeah, you’re right. My position on you killing me hasn’t changed in the last five minutes.” He shook his head. “Great. Not just a mimic. A crazy mimic. Isn’t that nice?”
“Oh, my darling, I have so much to tell you. I have found you at last.” She glanced past Kihrin then, and her face distorted into a screaming mask of hate. “NO. YOU FOOL!”
Kihrin glanced behind him in time to see one of the assassins standing in the jade-bead doorway. He was desperately injured, but making one last heroic attempt at completing his mission.
The man had a crossbow of his own aimed straight at Kihrin.
Kihrin jumped out of the way, diving to the floor. Initially, he thought he was successful, but that was shock. He felt a dull blow to his chest, like being hit with a reed pillow. Kihrin staggered back, and the world swung forward to greet him at a tilt. He couldn’t breathe. Gods, he couldn’t breathe. As he tried to draw in air, the pain hit. Kihrin realized he wasn’t nearly as lucky as he liked to pretend. The stone at his neck felt bitterly cold, so cold it felt burning hot.
As he fell, not understanding there was a crossbow bolt in the middle of his chest, Kihrin saw something strange. Even though Kihrin was the one who’d been shot, his attacker was the one screaming. The man screamed for good reason: a mass of tentacles, covered in sharp claws, was busy tearing the assassin in half. Bloody gore sprayed all over Ola’s fine tapestries.
As Kihrin saw this, he heard a commotion, a door banging open, more voices. But he wasn’t really interested anymore. Everything began to darken.
A face filled his vision—a familiar, unwelcome face. Pretty Boy—Darzin D’Mon—looked down at him with undisguised worry. “I arrived just in time.”
Talon said, “I had no idea—”
“It’s not your fault, Talon. I won’t blame you if he dies.”
“He won’t die,” Kihrin heard her answer before he passed out from the pain. “I’m not finished with him yet.”
25: INTO THE JUNGLE
(Kihrin’s story)
I heard shouts behind me as I ran. Someone called my name. I ignored that too. I sprinted down the steps and ran into the jungle. Under the canopy, the light dimmed as the jungle air filled with mist and the fetid smell of earth and orchids. I kept running, jumping over vines and roots and moist green ferns. I ran until I was out of breath and my sides ached.
I didn’t think they were following me. I listened and heard nothing but jungle noises.
Something rustled in the underbrush.
I stopped. There was another rustle. I slowly reached down to grab a rotten piece of wood from the jungle floor.
A low throaty noise came from my right, almost a slowed cat purr. A moment later, the head of a lizard poked its way into view. It was a golden-green color, and more like the head of one of the crocodiles living in the Senlay River than a small garden lizard. The head was too high off the ground. As the creature stepped closer, I realized that was because the head belonged to a reptile standing on its hind legs. The reptile opened its mouth in a grin, showing rows of sharp teeth. It purred at me and regarded me with intelligent dark eyes that reminded me of a parrot. It also stood three feet tall at the shoulder.
Another purr answered it, from behind me.
There were two of them.