Logan got up on his hands and knees, then on his knees, obviously about to stand. G.o.ds, it was just like in the arena. Logan didn't know when to stay down. Kylar kicked him in the side of the head and he went down hard.

Serah rushed forward to Logan's side. "Well, Serah, you always wanted us to spar. Looks like I win." Kylar smiled triumphantly at her. The murmurs started immediately, all of them disapproving.

Serah slapped him with a crack that rattled his teeth. "You aren't half the man Logan is." She knelt by Logan, and Kylar could see that he'd suddenly ceased to be part of her world.

He straightened his tunic and cloak and pushed through the crowd. The first rows stepped back for him, as if even touching him would bring them shame, but as he pushed his way inside, people were still pushing outside, desperate to see the fight that they didn't know was already finished. Within a few feet of the door, he became just another n.o.ble in the crowd. He followed a wall to the servants' staircase, which was now unguarded, and went upstairs.

Well, that hadn't exactly been a roaring success. It had cost him his reputation and had quite possibly revealed his presence to Hu Gibbet. But it had gotten him up the stairs, and for now, that was all that mattered. He could worry about the consequences tomorrow. The rest of the job would be easier. It had to be, right? could worry about the consequences tomorrow. The rest of the job would be easier. It had to be, right?

Hu Gibbet had been tempted to head up the stairs as soon as the guards abandoned them to go break up some fool n.o.bles' fight. The unguarded stairs were a temptation, but he was confident of his skills. Besides, his plan would still work, and it would give him information he couldn't get if he walked upstairs now.

Lady Jadwin was standing near the doors to the porch, either distraught or pretending to be. It was one of those little mysteries of life that the king had chosen her as his mistress. Surely there were more attractive women who would sleep with a king, even this king. Lady Jadwin was living proof of the hazards of inbreeding. She was a tall woman with a horse's face, large enough and old enough that she certainly didn't belong in the dress she was wearing tonight, and known to be s.e.xually voracious by everyone in the kingdom-except her husband.

He figured that the distress was an act. Lady Jadwin was a pa.s.sionate woman, but generally unflappable. This would probably be her excuse to go upstairs.

There. She spoke briefly to one of her guards, then went back to apologizing to the guests streaming back in from outside, most of them disappointed at having missed the fun. She spoke briefly to one of her guards, then went back to apologizing to the guests streaming back in from outside, most of them disappointed at having missed the fun.

The guard, having the subtlety of most guards, walked directly to the guard just now resuming his post at the servants' stair. He leaned close and whispered an order. The man nodded. Meanwhile, the d.u.c.h.ess waited until the prince came through the door. She spoke a few words to him, then began feigning more distress as he disengaged himself from a young blonde hanging on his arm.

After a few more seconds, the d.u.c.h.ess excused herself, told her husband that she wasn't feeling well, turned down what must have been an offer to send someone with her, and went up the grand stair by herself. Doubtless, she'd told him she just needed to lie down for a little while. "Enjoy the party, dear," she'd said, or something.

The prince was more circ.u.mspect, but not difficult to follow. He made his way to the sweet meats, chatted with a few ladies politely, excused himself and walked to the washroom, which was just down the hall from the servants' stair. He emerged from the dark hallway a minute later, looked quickly to see that no one was looking at him, and walked past the guard, who pretended not to see him.

Hu followed hard on the prince's heels, wrapping himself in shadows. The guard was so busy not seeing the prince, the wetboy probably could have slipped past him even without them.

The servants' stair opened on the grand hallway by the duke's chambers. The floors were the same white marble, with the middle of the hall covered by a red carpet for its entire length, all the way from this wing to the opposite one, where the d.u.c.h.ess's chambers were. The lights were dimmed as a visual redirection for the guests who might have been at past parties where both floors were open to guests.

Kylar had no idea how long he had to get the Globe of Edges, but he was sure faster was better. It occurred to him that he wasn't the only person who might have seized the opportunity of the stairs being unguarded. Hu Gibbet might already be upstairs.

The only advantage Kylar had-he hoped-was that Hu probably wasn't coming just for a smash-and-dash. He was probably coming to kill someone. If that had been Kylar's goal, the simplest way would be to wait until the d.u.c.h.ess gave the ka'kari to the king's agent, whoever it was, and then kill both of them. That way, Hu would get to satisfy his bloodl.u.s.t and he would kill the two people who knew for sure what had happened. The king wouldn't know if the jewel had been stolen or not, and would have no way to ask without publicly acknowledging that Lady Jadwin was his mistress.

If that guess was right, Kylar had until Lady Jadwin came upstairs to get the Globe of Edges. It might be another hour, or it might be two minutes.

Halfway down the hallway, a guard was walking toward him. Kylar stepped backward into the corner, where the shadows were deeper. But then the guard turned and walked down the grand staircase. It was Kylar's chance. He walked forward quickly, with no attempt at stealth. His chest tightened as he stepped past the one area of the hallway that was well-lit. The landing at the top of the stairs was bathed in light, but with six steps, eyes locked straight forward, he made it across.

The corridor was lined with disturbing sculptures and excellent paintings. Unless Kylar missed his guess, the duke was something of an artist. The brilliant and diverse paintings were obviously selected by a man with a keen eye and a deep purse. Though similarly striking, the sculptures were unmistakably the product of one vision.

Pained figures appeared to be tearing themselves from the rock. One stumbling woman looked over her shoulder with terror writ in every feature. A man raged at the cloud of black marble that enveloped his hands. A nude woman lay back erotically into the cloud devouring her, rapture on her face. nude woman lay back erotically into the cloud devouring her, rapture on her face.

Even in the hurry Kylar was in, the sculpture stopped him in his tracks. It was beautiful. Devastating. It mixed sensuality with something unsettling that Kylar couldn't identify. And it was unmistakably Elene.

So that's how it is. Kylar felt as if something were tearing the lining of his stomach. It felt empty, raw. Kylar felt as if something were tearing the lining of his stomach. It felt empty, raw. Of course she sleeps with him. He's a duke; she's a servant, and it's hard to say no. Even if she wanted to. Maybe she didn't. It happens all the time. Of course she sleeps with him. He's a duke; she's a servant, and it's hard to say no. Even if she wanted to. Maybe she didn't. It happens all the time.

He looked at the statue closely, giving a cursory glance to the supple limbs, narrow waist, and high b.r.e.a.s.t.s-and found what he was looking for. Though he'd given her a perfect nose, with the lightest of scratches, the duke had hinted at the scars on her face. So the man didn't just see them as imperfections. He was interested in the mysteries beneath.

This isn't the time for art appreciation, d.a.m.n you. With a lump in his throat, Kylar jogged down the hall on the b.a.l.l.s of his feet. He grabbed the pouch from his back and had his picks out by the time he reached the door. No light or sound came from the room, so he picked the lock quickly. It had only three pins, so it opened in three seconds. Kylar stepped inside and locked the door after himself. If Hu came to the door, he'd have three seconds' warning before the wetboy came. With a lump in his throat, Kylar jogged down the hall on the b.a.l.l.s of his feet. He grabbed the pouch from his back and had his picks out by the time he reached the door. No light or sound came from the room, so he picked the lock quickly. It had only three pins, so it opened in three seconds. Kylar stepped inside and locked the door after himself. If Hu came to the door, he'd have three seconds' warning before the wetboy came.

Kylar drew the b.o.l.l.o.c.k dagger he'd strapped to the small of his back. The blade was a foot long, and he'd prefer something ten times its size if he had to fight Hu, but it was the best he'd been able to smuggle in.

He cased the room quickly. Most people, aware of the number of difficulties already present in a thief's life, were kind enough to use the same few hiding places. Kylar checked the mattress, behind the paintings, even the floor under the bureau and several of the chairs for trapdoors. Nothing. He checked the writing desk's drawers for false bottoms. Still nothing.

Most people who kept items of great value wanted to be able to check on them without much ha.s.sle, so Kylar didn't even go into the enormous closet. Unless d.u.c.h.ess Jadwin was comfortable handing her most prized possession to a servant, the Globe would be somewhere easily reached.

It didn't help that the d.u.c.h.ess seemed to be quite the collector. There were knickknacks everywhere. And flowers, probably brought in for the duke's homecoming, sprouted from every flat surface in the room, obscuring Kylar's view.

So the duke bought his wife some flowers. And, from the musky smell in the air and the rumpled covers on the bed, apparently had been welcomed home enthusiastically.

Then one of the vases caught Kylar's eye. It was ornately carven jade, but more important, it had a square base. Kylar picked it up from the writing desk. Roses, spray roses, stargazer lilies, and snapserpents splayed every which way. Ignoring the flowers, he took it to the mantel and pushed aside a hardwood jewel box.

There was an indentation in the stone of the mantelpiece. A square indentation. Kylar felt a surge of hope.

The prophet was right.

The base fit the indentation and Kylar turned it; there was a m.u.f.fled click. Kylar pulled all the knickknacks off the mantel and put them on the ground. On hidden hinges the entire mantelpiece opened up.

Ignoring the doc.u.ments and gold bullion, Kylar grabbed the jewelry box. It was large, large enough to hold the Globe of Edges. Kylar opened it.

Empty.

Gritting his teeth, Kylar replaced the case and closed the mantel. So there was his lesson in prophecy. "A square vase will give you hope," Dorian had said. He hadn't said that it would turn out to be a false hope. d.a.m.n! d.a.m.n! Kylar paused long enough to fit a knockout needle into a small trap, just in case Hu came in here instead of following the d.u.c.h.ess. Kylar paused long enough to fit a knockout needle into a small trap, just in case Hu came in here instead of following the d.u.c.h.ess.

Replacing the knickknacks and putting the vase back on the desk, Kylar tried to think. Where could it be? Everything that could have gone wrong tonight had. The only point of light was that he hadn't seen Elene.

Elene! The leaden feeling in his stomach told Kylar that he knew exactly where the ka'kari was. The leaden feeling in his stomach told Kylar that he knew exactly where the ka'kari was.

40

The prince felt hands grab him as soon as he stepped out of the staircase. An instant later, Lady Jadwin was pressing hot lips against his mouth. She pressed him back as he retreated until he b.u.mped into the door of the duke's chambers.

He tried to hold her back, but she just reached past him and pulled the latch. He almost fell as the door opened behind him. She closed the door behind herself and locked it. latch. He almost fell as the door opened behind him. She closed the door behind herself and locked it.

"My lady," he said. "Stop. Please."

"Oh yes, I'll stop," she said. "When it pleases me. Or should I say, after you you please me?" please me?"

"I told you, we're finished. If my father finds out-"

"Oh, b.u.g.g.e.r your father. He's as much of a b.u.mbler out of bed as he is in it. He'll never know."

"Your husband is just downstairs-anyway, it doesn't matter, Trudana. You know what I'm here for."

"If your father wants his globe back, he can come get it himself," she said. She put her hand on the front of his breeches.

"You know he couldn't come see you here," the prince said. "It'd be a slap in my mother's face."

"He gave it to me. It was a present."

"It's magic. My father thought it was just a stone, but Khalidor demanded it. Why would they do that if it weren't-no!" he slapped her hand away as she tugged open the laces.

"I know you like it," the d.u.c.h.ess said.

"I do like it. But we're finished. It was a mistake, and it will never happen again. Besides, Logan is waiting for me downstairs. I told him what I was doing." The lie came out easily. Anything to get away from this woman. The worst of it was how much he had enjoyed her. The woman might be ugly, but she was more skilled than almost any of the women he'd bedded. Still, waking up and seeing her the first thing in the morning was more than he wanted to think about ever again.

"Logan's your friend," she said. "He'll understand."

"He's a great friend," the prince said. "But he sees things in black and white. Do you know how uncomfortable he was with me leaving him downstairs while I came upstairs with my father's mistress? I need you to get the gem. Now." Sometimes, he could just thank the G.o.ds that Logan was a known prig.

"Fine," she said peevishly.

"Where is it? Your husband could come in any second."

"My husband just came home today."

"So?"

"So whatever else he is, the pig's faithful, so he's practically burning with pa.s.sion whenever he gets back from a diplomatic a.s.signment. He's recuperating downstairs. The poor dear, I think I exhausted him." She laughed, and it was a harsh, callous sound. "I kept imagining it was you-" With what she must have imagined was a seductive look, she shrugged her shoulders and the front of her dress fell open. She rubbed up against his body and tugged at the laces of his breeches again. and it was a harsh, callous sound. "I kept imagining it was you-" With what she must have imagined was a seductive look, she shrugged her shoulders and the front of her dress fell open. She rubbed up against his body and tugged at the laces of his breeches again.

"Trudana, please. Please keep that on. Where is it?" He didn't even look at her body, and he could tell it infuriated her.

"As I was saying," she said finally, "I knew you'd be here tonight, so I gave the globe to my maid. She's just two doors down. Are you satisfied?" She hitched up her dress and walked to her dresser. She looked at herself in the mirror.

The prince turned without saying anything. He'd thought this was going to be easy, that he was going to make his father owe him a huge favor for doing practically nothing. Now he saw that Trudana Jadwin was going to be a lifelong enemy. Never again, he promised himself. I will never sleep with a married woman again.

He didn't even pay any attention to the sound of a drawer sliding open. He didn't even want to look at Trudana. He wasn't even going to stay long enough to lace up his breeches. One second more was one second too many.

His hand was on the latch when he heard the rapid shuffle of her feet. Then something hot lanced into his back. It felt like a wasp sting. Then Trudana's body crushed into him, and he felt the stinger sink deeper. His head smacked against the door in front of him, and he felt the sting again.

It wasn't a sting. It was too deep. He gasped as roaring filled his ears. There was something wrong with one of his lungs. He wasn't breathing right. The stabbing continued and the roaring receded. The world took on a startling clarity.

He was being stabbed to death. By a woman. It was embarra.s.sing, really. He was the prince. He was one of the top swordsmen in the realm, and this fat-a.s.sed old woman with saggy, uneven b.r.e.a.s.t.s was killing him.

She was breathing, practically gasping in his ear, the same way that she had when they made love. And she was speaking, crying as if every stab were somehow hurting her. The self-pitying b.i.t.c.h. "I'm sorry, oh, oh, I'm sorry. You don't know what he's like. I have to I have to I have to."

The stabbing continued, and it irritated him. He was already dying, his lungs filling with blood. Coughing, he tried to clear them, which succeeded in spraying blood on the door, but his lungs were mincemeat and blood just rushed back into the gaps.

He slumped, hit his knees in front of the door, and she finally stopped. His vision was going dark, and his face slumped forward into the door.

The last thing he saw, through the keyhole, was an eye on the opposite side of the keyhole, emotionlessly watching him die.

He found the door with no problem. It was locked, but he picked it in seconds. Let her be asleep. Please. Let her be asleep. Please.

Easing open the door of the cramped room, Kylar found himself staring at an oversized meat cleaver. It was being held by Elene. She was very much awake.

In the darkness, Elene obviously didn't recognize him. She looked torn between screaming and hacking at him. Her eyes locked on the sword in his hand. She decided to do both.

Slapping her hand with the flat of his b.o.l.l.o.c.k dagger, Kylar launched the knife out of her grip. He dodged a grasping hand and got behind her in a moment, clapping a hand over her mouth.

"It's me. It's me!" he said as he had to twist this way and that to dodge flying elbows. He couldn't hold a hand over her mouth and pin both arms and stop the kicks she was aiming at his groin. "Be quiet or your mistress dies!"

As she seemed to regain her sanity, Kylar finally let Elene go. "I knew it!" she said, furiously but quietly. "I knew I couldn't trust you. I knew it was just going to be you."

"I meant your mistress will die because your noise will bring the wetboy here."

Silence, then, "Oh."

"Yes." In the dim moonlit room, he couldn't be sure, but Kylar thought he saw her blushing.

"You could have knocked," she said.

"Sorry. Old habit."

Suddenly awkward, she picked up the cleaver off the bed and put it under her pillow. Looking down at her nightgown, which was disappointingly chaste, she seemed embarra.s.sed. She grabbed a robe and turned her back while she pulled it on.

"Relax," Kylar said as she turned back to face him. "It's a little late for modesty. I saw your statue. You look good naked." Why had he twisted that last bit to make her sound like a wh.o.r.e? Even if she was sleeping with the duke, what choice did she have? She was a servant in the man's house. It wasn't fair, but Kylar still felt betrayed.

Elene folded as if he'd hit her in the stomach.

"I begged her not to display it," Elene said. "But she was so proud of it. She said I should be proud too."

"She?"

"The d.u.c.h.ess," Elene said.

"The d.u.c.h.ess?" Kylar repeated stupidly. Not the duke. Not the duke?

He felt at once vastly relieved and more confused than ever. Why should he feel relieved?

"Did you think I'd model naked for the duke?" she asked. "What do you think, that I'm his mistress?" Her eyes widened as she saw the expression on his face.

"Well..." Kylar felt like he'd unjustly accused her, then felt mad that she was making him feel embarra.s.sed for drawing a perfectly good conclusion, then felt mad that he was wasting time talking to a girl when a wetboy was probably waiting out in the hall. This is madness. This is madness. "It happens," he said defensively. "It happens," he said defensively.

Why am I doing this?

For the same reason I've watched her from afar. Because I'm intoxicated by her.

"Not with me," Elene said.

"You mean you're a..." he was trying to sound snide, but he trailed off. Why was he trying to sound snide?

"A virgin? Yes," she said, unembarra.s.sed. "Are you?"