She sniffed. "Oh, sure. It takes a real capable adult to get both herself and a friend into a death cell."
"You're missing my point," he shook his head. "You know, Danae, you had the kind of life in front of you that most of the people I've known would have jumped at with all four feet. You could have allowed yourself to become a pampered parasite—let yourself be that little girl forever. But you didn't. You came to Triplet instead."
She sniffed again, reaching up with one hand to rub at her eyes, and when the hand came away he saw the moisture there. She had indeed been crying. "Nice to at least find it out before I die, isn't it."
He bit at his lip. "Danae..."
"No, please don't talk. What I really need... Ravagin, would you hold me?"
"I am holding you."
"No, I mean..." She took a ragged breath. "Hold me. Closer."
It took several heartbeats for him to finally realize what she meant... and several heartbeats after that to get his tongue unstuck. "Are you sure?" he asked awkwardly. "I mean... I'm hardly the sort of man... in, you know, normal circumstances, you wouldn't choose—"
She barked a laugh that was more than half sob. "You might be surprised. And since when are these normal circumstances, anyway? Unless you... don't want to, I mean..."
There was only one answer for that. Reaching over with his free hand, he turned her face gently upwards and kissed her. She twisted her body over toward him, arms snaking around his neck to press herself against him as she returned the kiss almost desperately. He let his hand drop lower, to her scorched, waterstained bodice...
It was only afterward, as she lay sleeping in his arms and he was dozing off himself, that the possibility they'd been observed occurred to him. An odd lapse, for him; even odder the fact that such a thought didn't even dent the sense of contentment filling him. It had been a long time since he'd felt this way...
Looking up at the ceiling, he sent it a half smile. The hell with you, he thought toward the hidden watchers. Closing his eyes, he fell asleep.
Chapter 38
The click of an opening lock jerked Ravagin awake, and he opened his eyes just as a tall, hardlooking man in a tight half-cloak stepped across the threshold into the cell. His eyes met Ravagin's, then flicked around the room, before he half turned to the shadowy figures waiting behind him in the corridor. "I will speak with them alone," he said in a voice Ravagin could tell was accustomed to giving orders. "No one is to listen in—is that clear?"
There was a muttered acknowledgment, and the man turned back and took a step into the cell.
Behind him the door swung shut.
For a moment he simply looked at them. Propped up on one elbow, Ravagin looked back, matching the other's silence and—he hoped—his impassive expression. On her side in front of him, her back pressed against his chest, Danae was also motionless and silent, but Ravagin could feel the nervous twitches that told him she was also awake. Surreptitiously, he squeezed her hip, hoping she would take the gesture as one of reassurance. Though offhand, he couldn't see any reason for either of them to be reassured.
"Well," the man said at last, coming another step toward the cot. "You two look very cozy. I trust you've found a way to pass the time?"
Danae stiffened; Ravagin squeezed her hip again. "Indeed," he said, keeping his voice cool. "You don't need us to tell you that, of course."
The other smiled faintly. "Very good, Ravagin—you recognize me, then."
"You were dressed in a guard officer's tunic earlier," Ravagin told him. "Standing beside Castle-lord Simrahi at that farce of a hearing. What else could you be but a high-ranking member of the household guard?"
The other's expression didn't change. "You are indeed an observant man. Excellent. I am Habri; master of the Castle Numanteal guard. Does that name mean anything to you?"
"Not really. Should it?"
A flash of something—disappointment?—seemed to register briefly on Habri's face. But he recovered quickly. "No matter. So. Tell me, what do you think Castle-lord Simrahi is likely to do with you? You being black sorcerers and all, that is?"
"We're not black sorcerers," Danae said tiredly. "Isn't there any way we can convince you people of that?"
Habri smiled slyly. "After all that talk of demons between you? No, my good traveler Danae, I think your reputation is firmly established. Which brings me to the really important question: Why are you here?"
Ravagin opened his mouth... and closed it again as an icy shiver went up his back. A random, almost forgotten fact had clicked... "At the hearing," he said slowly, "you went out of your way to downplay the suggestion that we were messengers to plotters. Which means... there really is something going on here. Isn't there?"
"There are rumors—nothing more," Habri shrugged. But the intensity of his expression belied the casualness of the words.
Danae twisted her head to frown up at him. "But you said a revolt would be suicide."
"Yes, I did," Ravagin nodded, keeping his eyes on Habri. There was something else there... "And since Guard Master Habri here was eavesdropping on us he doesn't need me to repeat the reasons why it's suicide. Not to mention any extra reasons he knows that we don't. So why all the fuss?"
"You answer my question first," Habri said coldly. "Why are you here?"
"We're passing through; nothing more," Ravagin sighed. "We were being chased by agents of another power—the demons your people heard us speak of—and thought that a good way to put them off our trail would be to detour through the nearest Dark Tower. So we did. The sky-plane we hitched a ride on came here—" he shrugged—"and its little sortie into the dining room you already know about."
"So you do admit, then, that you have certain unknown powers over magic? At least to the ability to reach into Dark Towers?"
Ravagin stared at him... and the last piece fell into place. "You're one of them, aren't you. One of those plotting to overthrow the castle-lord."
Habri's face had turned to stone. "You are indeed perceptive, Ravagin. Perhaps too much so."
Danae's hand gripped Ravagin's arm. "You wouldn't dare kill us," she stated firmly. Her tone startled Ravagin: it was as good an imitation of forceful contempt as he'd ever heard. "You wouldn't be here at all," she continued, "unless you wanted something from us, and wanted it badly. What?"
Habri took a step toward them, his eyes flashing fire at her as his right hand dipped beneath his cloak to grip a knife hilt there. "I need take no insolence from either of you, woman," he bit out. "Not from your protector, and certainly not from you."
"I wouldn't be quite so hasty if I were you," Ravagin spoke up, matching his own tone to Danae's cue. "Remember that you don't yet know which of us has whatever it is you need."
The other froze in place, his eyes darting back and forth between Danae and Ravagin. His lips parted once, closed; then, clenching his jaw, he dropped his hand from his weapon and moved back a pace.
He took a deep breath, and inclined his head fractionally. "Your point," he acknowledged with passable aplomb. "My mistake, and my apologies. It is clear that neither of you is what you seem."
"Apology accepted," Danae said coolly. "For now, at any rate. So. Let us hear your request."
Habri's eyes settled on her. "I want you to get me into the castle-lord's chambers, past the trolls guarding the door," he said bluntly. "Tonight."
The cell's tiny window had been showing the blackness of full night for several hours by the time Habri returned for them. "You have my weapons?" Ravagin whispered as the other eased open the door.
"Outside," Habri hissed back, gesturing impatiently as he stood in the doorway. "Quickly—the guards have been diverted, but they will be back soon."