"That's it," he nodded. "And it furthermore means that we were right about the demon's friend here being ignorant of what he's really up to. If the demon himself had been attacking us, we probably would have been stopped in short order. But it's clear that he's having to stick close to home—
wherever that is—and just sending his parasites out against us." Ravagin felt a surge of excitement; for the first time in hours, it seemed, his brain was running at top speed again. The logical puzzle was unraveling right before his eyes.... "So the parasites come against us, can't handle the unexpected things we throw at them, and fell on their ectoplasmic faces. They head back—sure, it all makes sense. They head back and report and the demon comes up with a new plan, which they launch in a few hours or whenever they can get to us. If we analyze the time periods involved, in fact, we might even be able to isolate their home base area."
"Great," Danae said without noticeable enthusiasm. "So what does that mean for getting us out of here?"
Ravagin's growing excitement faded away. "Yeah," he said heavily. "You're right. How do we convince Simrahi that there are forces threatening all of Shamsheer, and further convince him that letting us go is the way to fight the attack?"
"He believes in magic, doesn't he? I mean, he has to believe in it, living on Shamsheer. And it sounds like he believes in black sorcery, too—"
"Convincing him that there's a threat wasn't the part I was worried about," Ravagin interrupted her gently. "He already believes that... and thinks we're part of it." She sighed. "So it's up to us. Totally."
Ravagin eyed the bare walls around them. "I wish we were even that well off. Unfortunately, I don't see any way we can get ourselves out of this one. I'm afraid it's all up to your father now."
She tensed in his arms. "You mean the threat we made to Melentha? That if I disappeared, Daddy Dear would come looking for me?"
Something about the way she said that sent a quiet shiver up his back. "Yes," he said cautiously.
"Why?—isn't it true?"
She took a deep breath. "Not really. In fact... I think he's probably already resigned himself to never seeing me again."
Ravagin felt his neck muscles tighten. "Are you suggesting," he said slowly, "that he poured money all over various Triplet officials.... expecting you to die here?"
"No, of course not. I don't think he realized until the last minute what I was really up to."
"Which was...?"
She sighed. "Ravagin, I've been trying to run away from Daddy Dear for a long time. I've hated his money, hated the way everyone automatically fawned over me for no reason except the accident of history that I was his daughter. Hated the way they all treated me as if I was a cute little girl without any brains. Here—Triplet—was the only place I could find where his influence didn't penetrate. The only place where I could prove myself on my own, without Hart or someone like him showing up to grease my path. I started this trip eighty percent certain that I would run away from you at some point, to settle down and possibly spend the rest of my life here."
She stopped, and for a long minute there was silence. In his arms he could feel her body trembling, but he couldn't tell whether she was actually crying or just struggling hard to hold back the tears. Not that it mattered. "Well," he said at last, "it looks like you've done it. Proven yourself, I mean."
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?"