The Fire Seer and Her Quradum (17 page)

“Yes, well...” Ilinos seemed to have no good answer to this. He glanced at the river, where Bel-Zaidu, having brought down the tree, was now hewing off its branches.

Mandir, deciding that the conversation was finished, took Taya’s hand and headed into the house.

“Wait!” cried Ilinos.

Mandir turned, annoyed.

Ilinos addressed Taya. “I’m curious—did you see anything in your fire vision? Anything of interest to the murder case, maybe?”

Mandir rolled his eyes. How transparent could the boy be? Ilinos knew he’d let the dogs out, and he also knew it made him look suspicious. Pestering Taya about it wasn’t going to help matters.

“I’m sorry,” said Taya. “What I see in my fire visions is restricted to Coalition members.”

“Oh.” Ilinos averted his gaze. “Because I thought maybe if you saw something, you might want somebody to maybe explain it to you.”

Mandir steered Taya toward the main house. “We’ll keep that in mind.”

“He suspects that we know,” said Taya softly as they entered the house. “We should talk to him about it. I’d like to hear what he admits to and what he doesn’t.”

“We can do that at some point,” Mandir agreed. “But I wouldn’t trust a word that comes out of his mouth, and right now I’m more interested in Runawir. Come on.” He led her down the hallway to Runawir’s room.

“Why Runawir?”

“I’ll explain after we talk to him. I may be rude in there---certainly to him and probably to you. React naturally; just be aware that it’s an act. I need to provoke him into doing something.”

“Into doing what?” Taya’s brows rose.

“You’ll see, if he does it.” They were getting too close to Runawir’s room for Mandir to explain.

As a child, Mandir had kept a close eye on Runawir’s room the way a sparrow watches the hawk’s nest. He had seldom dared to walk down this hallway openly. He’d do it only in secret, perhaps on a rare mission to throw a spider or snake into Runawir’s bed. Walking up to the man’s door so brazenly gave him a shivery feeling down his neck.

The door was open, which was typical of Runawir, who liked to be aware of all the goings-on in the house. Runawir sat on his bed, mending a torn shirt, in a scene that might have made Mandir laugh, since it was so harmless and domestic-looking. He knew, however, that Runawir wasn’t harmless.

Runawir raised his brows. “Did Bel-Sumai talk to you?”

“No,” said Mandir.

“He’s probably looking for you.”

“What’s Bel-Sumai doing?” asked Mandir. “Interviewing each of us while Bel-Zaidu builds the funeral pyre?”

“I don’t know anything about a pyre,” said Runawir. “But I’ve heard nobody’s making lunch.”

“I heard that too. What’s a household of men to do without a woman to do all the work?” said Mandir. “We might all starve.”

Runawir set down his mending, annoyed. “What do you want?”

“I want to know what you did last night,” said Mandir.

“I didn’t kill anybody,” said Runawir. “But why should I talk to you about it? You’re not in charge of the investigation.”

“We just want to find out—” Taya began.

“Quiet,” said Mandir. “This is a discussion between men.” Taya’s eyes flashed in offense. He hoped she remembered his warning, else he’d be in a lot of trouble later. “What happened last night after Setsi told you the dogs were loose?”

“I’m only telling you because you know it already,” said Runawir. “I went out to help recover the dogs. We saw each other out there, or did that slip your mind? I’m sure you had a lot to think about, with two people to kill.”

“Mandir didn’t murder anyone, and neither did I,” said Taya.

“You and Yanzu fought last night,” said Mandir. “Over Shala.”

“Over Tufan’s woman?” said Runawir. “I wouldn’t dare.”

“Come on, you’ve done it many times. How else could she have become pregnant? Unless it was Yanzu or Shardali.”

Runawir snorted. “Shardali? You think a man who can’t get his words out can get a girl pregnant?”

“You slept with her last night,” Mandir accused. “And you wanted her for yourself from now on—that’s why you killed Tufan and Yanzu. Your rivals for her favors.”

“Is that the best you’ve got?” Runawir got to his feet. “Little Mandir has a theory about who killed the prince, only it’s dumber than a garfish because even if I wanted Shala—which I don’t—she’d never be worth killing over.”

“Maybe her baby is,” said Mandir. “Is it yours?”

“Remember when you used to get mouthy and I’d dunk your head in a bucket of horse piss?”

“What a fond memory that must be for you,” said Mandir. “I’d love to see you try it now.”

Runawir went absolutely still. Mandir almost had him.

“No matter how big you get, I can always thrash you,” said Runawir.

Taya stepped between them. “Let’s not resort to this childishness.”

Mandir pushed her gently aside, not wanting her to take a stray punch when Runawir exploded. “If you think you can thrash me, do it. Or has your sword grown as limp as our father’s?”

Runawir charged.

“No!” shrieked Taya.

Mandir deflected the first punch almost without thinking. He’d seen most of what he needed to see in Runawir’s initial rush: the man had no fighting skills at all. He’d beaten Mandir when they were younger, but only because Mandir had been inexperienced and Runawir had been older and bigger. Now Mandir had the size to rival Runawir’s—but more importantly, he’d had training. And he could see that Runawir would be no challenge for him at all, even if he never touched his magic.

He turned to let a second punch glance off him. Then he looked for Taya. She’d retreated out the door and was safely out of range, so he knocked Runawir’s feet out from under him.

He worried then that he’d been too aggressive and given away the game, but Runawir didn’t catch on that he was outclassed. Blinded by rage, he lunged at Mandir. Mandir kicked at him ineffectually, allowing him to get to his feet and throw another punch. Again, Mandir turned so that the blow glanced off without doing much harm. When the next punch came, he intercepted Runawir’s arm and twisted, using the man’s own momentum to fling him across the room.

Runawir slammed into a cabinet. When he recovered, he came at Mandir again, roaring. A knife flashed out of his pocket. That was what Mandir had been waiting for.

He called fire into the hilt of the knife. The hilt turned red-hot, and Runawir dropped it with a shriek of pain. While he was off balance, Mandir kicked him to the floor, careful just to knock him down, though he could easily have broken the man’s kneecap.

He moved to the knife and stood over it. “How curious. That looks like the knife you stabbed Yanzu with.”

Runawir, doubled over and clutching his burned hand, twisted his head to look. “I didn’t stab Yanzu with anything.”

“No?” said Mandir. “It’s got blood on it.” Lazy man—he hadn’t even bothered to clean the blade.

“What’s going on?” called Bel-Ditana from the door.

Mandir turned and saw that a crowd had gathered with Taya in the doorway. “Runawir’s the one who stabbed Yanzu last night. He pulled the knife on me during a fight.” He picked up Runawir’s half-mended shirt from the bed and wrapped it around the still-warm hilt of the knife so he could pick it up. He showed the blade to Bel-Ditana. “See the bloodstains? I imagine you’ll find this weapon is the right size and shape to have inflicted the wound in Yanzu’s arm.”

Bel-Ditana accepted the knife and peered at it from all angles.

Mandir collected a bemused-looking Taya, and headed back to the guest room. Once there, he closed the door and said, “You can have it out with me now, if that’s your intent.”

“No need,” said Taya. “You warned me you were going to provoke him. Although I didn’t realize you meant to provoke him into an actual
fight
.”

“I needed him to pull that knife on me,” said Mandir. “I knew he had it—but it wasn’t as if I could search him.”

“How did you know he had it?”

“Because I know him,” said Mandir. “He’s always carried a knife, and he’s used it before in household squabbles.”

“Clever of you to provoke him into showing it,” said Taya. “But that bit where you silenced me and said it was a discussion between
men
? Ugly.”

Mandir laughed. “It’s a good thing I warned you. You might have burned me to a cinder otherwise.”

“Yes, good thing,” said Taya. “But you’re still going to have to make it up to me.”

His brows rose. Those words held a hint of seduction. “How should I make it up to you?”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way.”

He turned to her then and looked at her,
really
looked at her. He felt like he’d been in a trance over the last couple of days, ever since he’d entered this household that was so full of ghosts from his past. It had taken all his energy just to keep his head on straight. But now Tufan was dead. The ghosts, while not gone, were fading.

And Taya had never been as beautiful as she was right now, with that teasing look in her eyes.

He grinned and took a step toward her. “I think you like watching me fight.”

Her face quirked. “Any woman would—when you’re not being a bully, anyway. You’ve had training, haven’t you? Not just in magic, but in fighting hand-to-hand.”

“Lots of training.” He continued to advance, steering her toward the bed. “Hand-to-hand combat...archery...wrestling...” He’d backed her as far as he could take her; she was standing just in front of the bed. “I’ve got an idea. How about I make it up to you right now?”

She sat. “I thought you weren’t comfortable doing that under your father’s roof.”

“It’s not my father’s roof anymore.” He pushed her down on the bed, a little harder than he’d intended—his muscles were primed for action after that fight with Runawir. Then he covered her mouth with his.

“All right, make it up to me now,” she murmured into his mouth. “But I expect a performance as fine as the one I just saw, if not better.”

Mandir peeled her shirt off and over her head. “Woman, I’m going to make you scream louder than Runawir.”

Flood and fire, he’d missed her body—those beautiful breasts with their dark nipples, her amazing curves. He yanked off his shirt, determined to pay proper attention to each part of her body he’d neglected of late. While his eyes were drawn to her breasts, he started with her earlobe, which he’d discovered was exquisitely sensitive. Just his breath upon her neck could make her shiver.

But Taya was having none of it. She kicked off her pants, drawing him closer, placing his hand upon her breast. Some days she liked it when they went slow, teasing and playing before they went on to the primary event. Other days, and today appeared to be one of them, she just wanted him to fuck the daylights out of her.

Very well, he knew how to settle this spirited creature. He kicked off his own pants and took her straightaway, pressing her down onto the bed. She hissed as he entered. He was hard as polished brass, she as slick as river water.

Now he had her, and she’d have to take things at the pace he desired. He captured her mouth with his own and let her feel the weight of his body, the strength of his motions. Toying at first, he searched for the elusive rhythm that made her quiver beneath him.

He found it.

As she responded, he absorbed her moans with his kisses, her bucking body with his own. He felt his climax building but tried to delay it by distancing himself from the act for a moment. She was reaching that point where the pleasure became overwhelming. He wanted to keep her there as long as he could.

“Mandir,” she moaned.

As her body shuddered beneath him, he let himself go, riding her climax into his own. When it was over, he lay beside her, conscious of the need to get back to work but putting that off for a few minutes. There was little he liked better than lying in bed next to a satisfied, well-fucked Taya. “It’s over. I can’t believe it’s finally over.”

“What’s over?” she asked drowsily.

“This place. Tufan.”

“Thank the Mothers for that.”

He kept realizing anew that Tufan was dead. Each time he forgot and then remembered it, it sank in a little more. Tufan would never rape another woman, never beat another child. It was well and truly over. A tremendous weight had been lifted from his shoulders, one he hadn’t realized he’d been carrying.

“How are you feeling?” asked Taya. “It must be a shock to lose your father and brother so suddenly.”

“I feel good, actually.” Mandir reached for the words to explain. “When I was young, I thought the world was more absolute than it really was. I thought if Tufan had power over me now, he’d have power over me forever. If I was miserable now, I’d be miserable forever. Of course, that’s a child’s thinking, and I outgrew it. Yet there’s a part of me—some inner child, perhaps—that believed Tufan would rule here always. That child inside of me is now blinded by the rising sun, because he thought the night would go on forever.”

Taya clasped his hand in her own. “As we say in banana country, even the mightiest monsoon runs out of rain.”

Chapter 20

Taya didn’t want to go back to work. It was lovely lying in bed with Mandir with her body so relaxed and so perfectly sated. Mandir was usually a good lover, but this afternoon he had outdone himself. Her eyelids drooped. She could easily spend the rest of the day in bed.

But she couldn’t indulge herself any more than she already had; they needed to get back to the murder case. Mandir had demonstrated to Bel-Ditana and everyone else who’d been watching that Runawir had stabbed Yanzu in the arm, but that didn’t necessarily mean Runawir was the murderer, or that she and Mandir were safe from being accused themselves. Their best defense was still to find the murderer, along with sufficient evidence to convince the palace guards.

So far she and Mandir had interviewed Shala, Setsi, and Runawir, if one counted the confrontation between Mandir and Runawir as an interview. They still needed to talk to Nindar, Shardali, Ilinos, and the tutor. She’d love to interview each of the palace guards as well, since as far as she was concerned, they were suspects too, but that wasn’t going to happen. The palace guards would interview her and Mandir, not the other way around.