Tempt the Devil (The Devil of Ponong series #3) (16 page)

Nashruu
turned back and forth to examine the effect in the mirror. Would this outfit
impress QuiTai? She felt it had an authoritative air. Satisfied, she dismissed
Simarn.

The farwriter
bell still hadn’t rung.

How simple this all had seemed when she and Grandfather
had discussed his agents in the past. ‘Why don’t they just…’ she’d often said
about an agent who seemed to be taking too long to accomplish something. Now
she knew. It wasn’t so straightforward. Unexpected things happened. People didn’t
behave the way you predicted, and when your entire plan hinged on them doing
something, you were stuck with a useless plan if they did something else. This
game wasn’t as fun as it looked from the outside.

The farwriter finally rang. She hovered over it and read
the message as it typed out.

Go back to the
fortress. Find out what she wants and give it to her. Then get her out of there
before those idiots decide to hang her anyway. TtZ

She barely
condescended to speak to me the first time. I don’t see her as the type of
person who would waste her time on a pointless conversation a second time. NaZ

Find a way. TtZ

“Easy for you to say,” Nashruu muttered.

Did you offer her
Kyam? TtZ

How could she explain to him that an encounter with QuiTai
wasn’t like a dinner party? One couldn’t steer the conversation. There was
never an opportunity to drop in a well-practiced piece of information. The
malevolent intent was there, the coded phrases, the use of wit as a weapon, but
it was as different from playing salon hostess as swimming in your human form
was from swimming as a sea dragon.

I mentioned Kyam
once, but there wasn’t so much as a flicker of recognition at his name. You
told me she’d once been a prostitute, so maybe her kind thinks that way about
men. NaZ

She was the mistress
of the King of Houlton and other high ranking officials of nearly every country
on the continent, so never make the mistake of thinking of her as a common
whore. TtZ

“But you’re the one–” Nashruu slumped in her chair.
Arguing with a machine as useless. Of course she didn’t think of QuiTai as a
whore. Grandfather had made it perfectly clear that she was to be treated with
the respect due any deadly, intelligent creature.

She looked at herself in the mirror above the dressing
table. A tendril of dark hair stuck to her neck. Frown lines marred her
forehead. Leaning closer to the mirror, she stared into her eyes. How had she
ever thought she would be able to play this game? Everything was so far above
her abilities that she couldn’t begin to compete against these people. Her gaze
lowered.

Grandfather seemed to think his offer would work
eventually, but she didn’t agree. He hadn’t seen QuiTai’s indifference. He didn’t
understand what QuiTai wanted.

What could that woman want?

Nashruu made a face at her reflection. She had no idea.
Grandfather thought he knew, but he was wrong. He’d framed a picture of QuiTai
that was wrong from the beginning, and every decision he’d made about her since
was still tainted by that error. It was as if he didn’t see the obvious, or
refused to learn from his mistakes. He thought he was so clever and could bend
anyone to his will, but that only worked if you understood how a person
thought. He didn’t understand QuiTai. It was up to her to figure out how to
deal with this woman. What did QuiTai want? Who knew her well enough?

Going to make inquiries. Signing
off. NaZ

The Dragon
Pearl
wasn’t the only casino in Levapur that banned Ponongese, but it was
the only business owned by an Ingosolian that did. Kyam suspected the owner,
Lizzriat, kept them out because his clients wanted him to, not out of any
personal prejudice against the natives. Kyam wasn’t sure how he felt about
Lizzriat, because it was so hard to figure out where Lizzriat stood.

Like QuiTai, Lizzriat knew the value of information. It
was coin of the realm in the Quarter of Delights. His alliances weren’t clear,
but his product was usually reliable.

Kyam had never heard the click of tiles in the Dragon
Pearl before, but he’d never been in the casino this early. Bored dealers watched
him climb the stairs without much curiosity. They were used to vapor addicts
coming at all hours. He wondered how long it would take for rumors about him
visiting the second story to spread through Levapur.

The door
to the common den across the landing from the main staircase was open halfway.
Dreamers shared a raised wooden pallet in heap of tangled limbs, uncaring for
anything but the need for vapor. The strong, resinous scent of black lotus was
stomach-churning.

Kyam
crept down the hallway even though the thick carpet swallowed sound. Maybe it
was the vapor fumes affecting his mind, but every time he walked past the
opulent private dens where the rich took their pipes to the owner’s office, the
purple and brown striped walls appeared to converge and the hallway to elongate
before him. It always seemed to take twice as long as it should to reach
Lizzriat’s door.

He knocked gently. While the ground floor of the Dragon
Pearl was normally loud and boisterous, up here hush had settled like an
overnight snowfall on a courtyard lantern. He thought he heard the rustle of
silk and the quiet click of a lock, but it could have been a trick of his mind.
He knocked again, this time sliding open the door as his knuckles rapped on the
wood panel.

Lizzriat was
reclining on a bed built into an alcove in the office’s dark bookshelves. His
curly red hair sprawled across the pillows that propped him into a sitting
position. He extended a hand with weary grace.

Kyam
pushed the fall of lace from Lizzriat’s wrist and pressed his lips to the pale
blue skin.

Lizzriat
patted the mattress beside him, and Kyam sank into the soft bed. He wondered
how Lizzriat could stand the layers of silken sheets and duvets swaddling him
all night. The room was stuffy and too warm as it was, the air sour with sweat
and another unpleasant scent he could not name.

“You’re
kind to see me,” Kyam said. “I wouldn’t have disturbed you this early, but I’m
on a tight schedule.”

Lizzriat’s mouth hardened, but he tried to sound idly
amused. “One does not rush in Levapur,
krith amaci
. One surrenders to lethargy.” He reached for
a small glass of garnet liquid on the nearby table and sipped it like a tonic.

“I don’t have the luxury today.”

Setting aside his glass, Lizzriat made a face. “I’m far
too exhausted for cryptic messages. Let us borrow a tile from our native
friends and be blunt.”

That suited Kyam. “If you insist. Lady QuiTai has been
arrested for murder and will be executed as the sun sets.”

Lizzriat flinched at the mention of QuiTai and looked
away. “It was bound to happen eventually. On suspicion, I assume. She’d never
be stupid enough to leave evidence.” A quick slide of his gaze to Kyam’s face
made that seem like a question. “Although I heard she was first arrested, and
then she was accused of murder. Such a curious sequence of events, don’t you
think?”

Intrigue
was part of daily life in the Quarter of Delights. Of course Lizzriat already
knew what had happened. He wasn’t asking. He was proving to Kyam the value of
his network.

Smiling
tightly, Kyam said, “I’m investigating former Governor Turyat’s death, and
wondered if you had any insights. He spent a lot of time here.”

The
ruffled edge of the blanket didn’t need to be straightened, but Lizzriat passed
the time aligning the fabric. “Not lately.”

“I heard
a rumor that he was off black lotus.”

Lizzriat
made a sound between bitter laughter and a harrumph. “Not by choice.”

“So it’s
true QuiTai cut him off.”

“She’s as brilliant as the diamond dust that sharpens a
drill’s bit. You have to admire such a cruel imagination even if it repulses
you. It’s almost artistic.”

“I think this is a folktale.”

“We all suffer by her hand. We enjoy it. We hate ourselves
for our addiction, but oh, do we ever relish the pain she doles out. And that,
too, is her art. She tattoos our hearts with self-inflicted scars.” Lizzriat
grinned and winced.

That was far too close to the truth. Blunt was okay, but
Kyam wasn’t prepared to stare into the darkest part of his soul today. He
cleared his throat. “The part I don’t believe about–”

Where was it that Lizzriat was trying so hard not to look?
He wouldn’t turn around right now, but when he left, he’d find a reason to look
at the room behind him. Something there drew Lizzriat’s eye.

Kyam struggled against the soft abyss of the blankets to
find a more comfortable position before he continued. “I don’t believe anyone
could stop every single dreamer in Levapur from sharing their black lotus with
Turyat. She can’t possibly control every soul in this town. The population is small
compared to cities on the continent, but it’s no fishing village on the outer
cays, either.”

“Noted, although I respectfully disagree with one of your
assertions.”

“Back on the continent, possession of black lotus can send
you to prison for life, but here, people use it like medicine.”

“It is medicine,” Lizzriat said.

“It’s poison.”

“All medicines are poisons. What do you think these
concoctions our doctors give us do? They kill the sickness, and a little of the
healthy part of us too.” Lizzriat lifted his glass again, saluted Kyam, and
took another sip.

“My point is – you can probably find black lotus in
half the households in Levapur. So someone buys a little extra and slips it to
Turyat for a tidy profit. How would QuiTai ever know? She can’t control this
many people. Simply not possible. It makes a nice story, but no. I don’t
believe it’s true.”

Lizzriat rolled on his side. His fingertip traced the
cream on cream pattern on his sheets as he spoke. “Turyat stole a vial of black
lotus from a dreamer here. She blamed me. Cut off my supply for weeks as
punishment. Do you know how I got back into her good graces?”

“Seduced her?”

His hand
covered Kyam’s and squeezed lightly. “She and I, we flirt because it is in our
nature to desire what is worst for us, but we’re not meant to be.”

“Because of the Devil?”

“The Devil?
Pffft.
Is he even fashionable anymore? No. QuiTai is terrifying enough on her own,
which is part of her allure. I’m sure you agree.”

Kyam couldn’t deny it.

Lizzriat didn’t seem to like what he saw when he gazed
into his own soul. “I earned her partial forgiveness the old-fashioned way: I
informed on someone else who dared to give Turyat a pipe.”

“And they?”

“Know better now. We all do. She’s the harsh headmistress of
the school of life.” His gaze flicked over Kyam’s shoulder again.

Kyam wondered if maybe someone were sneaking up behind
him. His back tensed.

“But maybe now my debt is fully paid…”

Lizzriat fussed with his nightshirt’s sleeve. Kyam took
advantage of the moment to look around the room. Clearly, it was more of an
office than a bedroom. Where were Lizzriat’s clothes, if this was where he
lived? A suit hung over the back of the desk chair. Was that what he kept
glancing at? Had he been out earlier this morning? Few denizens of the quarter
rose before midday. The only person he knew who habitually rose with the sun
was QuiTai. Had the two of them been up to something earlier today? Was that
payment on Lizzriat’s debt?

Kyam
turned back to Lizzriat. “Who do you think would kill Turyat?”

Lizzriat’s
head jerked. He stared at Kyam for a moment. “No one. It’s a nonsense murder.”

“How do
you mean?”

“Why risk a death sentence to kill a man like that?”
Lizzriat didn’t seem interested in the topic.

“Do you mean QuiTai?”

“I mean anyone. You’d have to be an idiot to murder a
vapor ghoul.”

“I agree. You agree. Everyone agrees with that. And yet,
he’s dead, and it was no accident.”

Lizzriat gently tapped Kyam’s thigh until Kyam got the
message to rise from the bed, then shoved the covers down to his feet and then
swung his legs over the side of the mattress. After wrapping a dusky red
dressing gown over his nightshirt, he went to his desk.

“I think whoever killed Turyat made a huge mistake. QuiTai
wanted him alive so he would suffer. Everyone knows that.” He paused to smile
at Kyam. “Everyone who matters. So whoever killed Turyat probably didn’t mean
to, and now they’re scared to death. They’d probably welcome being arrested by
you rather than face her wrath when she gets out of the fortress.”

“If she
gets out. And why don’t you think someone framed her?”

“Do you
see anyone trying to throw fuel on her funeral pyre? Is anyone offering the
colonial government more information to make sure she’s executed? Not that I’ve
heard of. Think about that, Governor Zul.” Lizzriat opened a ledger a placed it
near the edge of the desk.

“So no
one wants QuiTai to die?”

“As infuriating as this town can be, can you imagine what
it would be like without her? But of course, you came after the Devil took
control. You don’t remember the bad old days of assassinations in the streets, or
the time the werewolves burned my Dragon Pearl to the ground for refusing to
pay protection money. That’s not the official story, of course, but everyone
knows that’s why sixteen dreamers roasted alive that night. Even QuiTai’s
enemies fear chaos more than they hate her. Except, of course, those lately
arrived opportunists who are foolish enough to believe they are the embodiment
of order.”