Jimson sprang to his feet. "I'll fetch her some, Ellen. Ye run along now, and don't worry none about Lucy. I'll see to her."

"Will ye now?" Ellen studied her brother with a grin. "Lucy, I think the little scamp is sweet on ye."

"Mind yer tongue," snapped Jimson, lunging for her.

Ellen giggled and taunted him all the way to the main withdrawing room.

Cecily sensed a family spat, which they appeared to enjoy and constantly indulged in whenever the lord and lady left the apartments. She followed them with a sigh, hoping to cut it short, for she wanted to take every opportunity this evening to search the pa.s.sages. With Imperial Lord Breden absent, she felt it safe to explore the tunnels closer to his rooms, for surely they would find one that would lead to an apartment close to his own, if not his very chambers- A cry. Followed by a splash.

Cecily entered the withdrawing room just as Ellen's head disappeared beneath the surface of the small pond. Jimson stood next to a rose tree, the freckles on his face standing out against his pale face.

"What happened?" she asked, running to his side.

He looked up at her, shock and terror in his blue eyes. "Water demons."

"Here?"

"Aye. But they've never come to our pond before. Why would they? And what do they want with-"

"Ellen," breathed Cecily. "Fletcher's demons." And she dove into the pond, feeling about the sides and bottom for an opening, for the water stayed fresh, so there must be some type of filtration system, and didn't Jimson say the demons appeared all throughout the palace- Ah. The bottom sloped in the middle of the pond and her palms found an opening just large enough for her skirts to smash through. Cecily pushed her way inside, fighting the fear of such a confined s.p.a.ce, but it opened up a bit, and a stronger current caught her up and plunged her through the watery tunnels until she lost all sense of direction. She prayed that the water system flowed in the same direction the demon nymphs had taken Ellen, for she could do little but allow the current to sweep her along in hopes of finding the girl.

A light above.

Cecily fought her way toward it, breaking the surface of another small pond, within another n.o.bleman's room. Empty. She dove again. And repeated the process another three times before she found Ellen.

The girl looked half-drowned, her cap plastered to her dark hair, the two water demons clutching her arms with a grip that would leave bruises.

"Let her go."

The nymphs smiled at Cecily's words, an unpleasant sight, for their pointed teeth held a shade of green, like moss over stone, and their scaled faces did not crinkle like human skin. It cracked, fissures running across the glossy surface.

"Now, now," said a male voice, with the silken tone of an elven lord, "you can't deprive me of your friend's company so soon, my dear Lucy. She will be so very useful."

The bulging eyes of the demons sparkled maliciously at the man's words, and Cecily slowly turned her head toward the handsome face of General Owen Fletcher.

She recognized this room. Glanced once across the length of it, adjusting for the view she had seen from the peephole. She stood in the same pond where he had tortured the slave girl.

Cecily gathered her magic, creating waves across the surface as it responded to her fear and anger. The nymphs grinned even wider, and one of them held up a knife carved from a seash.e.l.l-strong and as wickedly sharp as steel, and laid it across Ellen's throat.

"You see, my dear," said Fletcher, striding over to the pond, his green silk coat whispering with his movements, his bright yellow shoes clicking on the mosaic floor. "I rather suspect that your magic might be greater than mine, and I'm not in a mood to discover the truth of it. Don't quite have the time, you see."

Ellen whimpered as the sharp blade pierced her skin, a trickle of scarlet blood looking dreadfully brilliant against her pale neck.

Cecily gritted her teeth as she tamped her magic down. "What do you want?"

"Ah, capital. You have abandoned any pretense as to what you are. Now as to who... I rather think your name isn't Lucy, is it?"

He held out his hand to her as if he were a beau asking her to dance, and Cecily rose from the water on her own, refusing to touch his fingers like one would refuse the touch of a snake. She needed to find out what he wanted from her, for she suspected she now had but a small chance of completing her task for the Rebellion. She hoped only to save Ellen's life. Fletcher would never have bothered with the plain girl if not for Cecily.

Fletcher had changed all of her plans so quickly that her mind still reeled from the suddenness of his attack.

"What do you want with me?"

Fletcher stretched his full lips in a wide grin, his brilliant blue eyes sparkling like sapphires. "You are making quite a puddle, moppet. Allow me." And with a wave of his fingers, water sprayed from her clothing back into the pond. "You know, I've been looking for you for months now. We've had reports of a half-breed with enough power to call a storm, but the Imperial Lord dismissed it as nothing more than ignorant soldiers in awe of magic." He took a step toward her, caught her hands up within his, and smiled as she struggled against his hold. "The arrogance of the elven lords will be their downfall. But not mine, for I have enough humanity within me to be wary."

Cecily gave up trying to escape from his hold and settled for glaring up at him. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, my dear. Many a n.o.ble can call upon the water, make it snake around my neck the way that you did. But not a one of them has the power to alter it to near solid form, except for me. And Breden of Dewhame. And perhaps his daughter."

Cecily stilled. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d had taught her that trick himself. And she had fallen for it, using the new skill so quickly. So easily.

He lowered his head, that perfect mouth so close to her own. "Who would have ever thought that you would come to my very door? That I would find you in the last place you should ever be?"

His breath felt hot against her lips. Heaven help her if he tried to kiss her again, for Cecily did not know what her magic might do.

"Since you're a woman," he continued, "I suppose you could not help but return to your home. That you thought your dear father would welcome you back to the fold after all these years? Poor thing. Don't you know he will kill you?" He lifted one hand and stroked the side of her cheek. "No wonder I was instantly attracted to you. All that elven beauty wrapped in equal parts magic. I could drown in those eyes... so very like your father's."

Cecily could stand his touch no longer. "I won't be your mistress, you... you libertine."

"My...?" The general froze for a moment, then threw his head back, blond hair flying over his shoulders, loosening his other hand so Cecily could gain some distance between his body and hers. He laughed, and as much as she despised him, she could not help but compare his laughter to some glorious song. d.a.m.n his elven blood.

Behind them, Cecily could hear the echoing laughter of the demons.

He wiped his eyes with the ruffle of his sleeve. "My mistress? And... and... libertine? Is that the best you could do?" He turned to a cupboard shaped like a curled shark and poured dark liquor into a gla.s.s, swirling it about while he studied her. "Devil take it, you are most amusing, Lady Cecily Sutton. For that is your name, is it not? And poor Breden thinks you were tested and destroyed by the fire lord himself."

Fletcher planned to kill her, then. But hadn't she known this the moment he'd taken Ellen? She glanced over her shoulder at the young woman, who sat very still between the two demon nymphs, her eyes wide with shock and terror.

She turned back to Fletcher, grateful that her voice did not shake with the pounding of her heart when she spoke again. "Let Ellen go. And I promise... you can do with me what you will."

"Ah, don't tempt me. You have no idea of my pa.s.sion for the gentler s.e.x. And you-I believe you would last so much longer than the others." He threw the liquor down his throat in one fluid movement and then c.o.c.ked his head at her. "But I do not think that's what you were referring to, was it? Egads, don't make me laugh again. We haven't the time for such jocularity. I am not Breden of Dewhame. I do not seek your death. Indeed, if you but do what I ask, I will not reveal your existence to anyone. Including your dear father."

Cecily took a deep breath. "What do you want from me?"

His handsome face twisted in a mocking grin. "The scepter, my dear. I want you to steal Breden's scepter for me."

Fourteen.

Giles lay on the makeshift bed he'd tucked into a corner of the weapons shed, his hands beneath his head as he stared up at the beams of the ceiling, remembering every detail from last night. The way Cecily had felt within his arms, the way his body had felt inside of hers, the feel of her water magic as it swirled around them. The ethereal beauty of her face by candlelight.

He muttered a curse and sat up, rubbing his cheeks with his hands. If he continued on like this, he would not be able to resist her invitation, should her messenger boy send one. And he had to protect her. Even if it meant protecting her from himself.

She could not see it now, past the first blush of pa.s.sion, but he knew people better than she. Cecily would come to hate him for making her an outcast. And although the disease had spread no farther, he had no a.s.surance that it would not overtake him some day, turning him into a complete monster.

He should never have allowed last night to happen. Giles had always been in control with women, but Cecily had the ability to shatter him with only a touch. Faith, ever since that first day on the beach when she had come within touching distance of him, he hadn't been able to resist reaching out to her.

If he didn't think it would imperil their mission, he would tell Will that Cecily was here. Will would still be in love with her, and perhaps he could manage to gain her heart again. Then Cecily would quit pursuing Giles and leave him to suffer in peace.

Anger flared at the thought of Cecily with another man, but it did not stop him from wallowing in self-pity. And he knew he wallowed. It infuriated him... but sometimes he thought that it might be the only comfort he had left.

Giles had never thought much about his appearance, but he had apparently taken it for granted. Women falling at his feet. Little girls staring at him with large puppy eyes. Men casting him glances of admiration and envy. He had gotten used to it, had taken it for granted. And perhaps it wouldn't be so bad if he had suddenly lost his elven beauty and turned into a plain-looking human. But the contrast of his new life to his old was too great. Women looked at him with disgust. Little girls ran screaming from him. And his easy camaraderie with other men had completely vanished.

Ah, enough of this. He had best put his mind to better purpose, and try to figure out a way to meet the dragon this evening. He would not be able to meet Kalah in his tower; that would raise too many questions. But he'd asked around today, and discovered that the dragon sometimes went to his feeding grounds at night. The fenced pasture of cattle was located a fair distance from the palace, and he hoped the dragon would not mistake Apollo for a midnight treat. He had naught to do but wait until- The sound of the door banging open roused him from his misery, and he called out, only partly grateful for the interruption. Few of the men would seek him out and he wasn't scheduled for patrol for several more hours, so Giles figured it would be Cecily's messenger boy, even before he saw him come barreling around the stack of swords.

Giles took one look at the lad's face and started to pull on his boots. Jimson had not come to deliver a message for some lover's tryst. He looked scared out of his wits.

"Catch your breath," he told the boy. "Then tell me what has happened."

One gulp. Two. "Fletcher's water nymphs. They took my sister. And Lucy went after them."

Giles cursed and stood, adjusting his sword belt. "Where? Take me to them."

The boy must have had a hefty amount of elven blood, because he spun and ran fast enough that Giles pushed to keep up. They sprinted over bridges and past fountains, around pavilions set up for the overflow of guests at tonight's ball. But the grounds were not yet crowded, and Jimson managed to keep to the shadows. Until they neared the palace walls.

Giles brought the lad up short with a hiss, ducking behind a small fountain, nodding at the two soldiers on patrol. The cheeky lad gave him a wink and did something with his hands, and disappeared into a sparkling mist. When Giles looked down at his body, all he could see was the outline of his sword.

"b.u.g.g.e.r it," whispered Jimson. "It won't work on your blade."

"My sword has magic of its own."

"And it's stronger than mine. Can ye drag it along the ground so the soldiers won't notice it?"

Giles shrugged, but removed his belt and did as the boy suggested, scowling when the devil-blade emitted a whine of indignation at the ign.o.ble idea of being dragged through the mud. The sound must have caught the guards' attention, for Jimson pa.s.sed them with nary a glance, but when Giles followed the thick mist that had become the boy, one of the guards elbowed his fellow and nodded at the movement on the ground.

Giles froze as the two men came over to investigate. Despite the worn appearance of his sword, he knew one of them would try to take it, for st.u.r.dy weapons did not come cheap. So the moment they both stood over it, Giles drew it from the sheath and whacked one upside the head with the flat of the blade.

If Giles had not been so anxious for Cecily, he might have laughed at the look on the other soldier's face as the sword swung by itself in the air and smacked him as well.

"Jimson," he whispered over the men's p.r.o.ne bodies, for he could no longer see the mist now that he'd taken his gaze from it.

The lad materialized beside him and motioned him forward to the palace wall. Giles leaped to Jimson's side, watched as the boy placed one foot on a brick near the ground, pressed another high up over his head, and a portion of the wall slid open. They quickly ducked through the stream of water that constantly slid down the palace exterior and were plunged into darkness when the opening closed behind them.

"Now what?" asked Giles, who couldn't see two feet in front of his face.

"Forgot a lantern," huffed the boy. "Take the back of me shirt and hold on."

Giles strapped his sword belt back on and did as Jimson asked, hoping that the ceiling of the tunnels would be higher than his head. When he managed several feet without running into anything, he picked up his stride, urging the boy to go faster. The dank mustiness of the pa.s.sages made it difficult to breathe, and Giles wondered that Cecily had managed so many nights of exploring these stifling corridors.

They pa.s.sed several small round openings of light, the beams seeming brilliant in the darkness, but Jimson ignored them all until the pa.s.sage angled upward and turned. The boy stopped and pressed his eyeball over the hole. He softly cursed, a phrase so colorful that it made even Giles's eyebrows rise up.

"Let me see."

The boy stood aside and Giles peered into a room decorated with enough seash.e.l.ls to blanket the sh.o.r.e of his old village. Mosaics of sh.e.l.ls tiled the floor and walls in colorful patterns, but his attention quickly shifted to a pond surrounded by lifelike statues of sharks with open jaws and pointed teeth. Within the water sat two nymphs who appeared to be torturing a servant girl with one lethal-looking knife and both of their jagged claws.

Giles had never seen a water demon so closely before. They reminded him a bit too much of monstrous frogs, and he wondered if that's what the elven lord had used as a source to create them.

"Your sister?" whispered Giles, his attention back on the servant girl.

Jimson strangled out a "Yes."

"Where's Cecily?"

"Who?"

"Lucy. Where's Lucy?"

He felt the boy tremble. "The nymphs serve Fletcher. He might have taken her somewhere else. The demons will know."

"Right." Giles pulled his eye away from the peephole. "Is there a way to get into the room from here?"

Jimson's face floated like a white ghost in the darkness. "Never tried. These are Fletcher's rooms."

His tone indicated the madness of the thought. Giles smiled, and it didn't feel like a nice one. "Look for one. Now."

Jimson plastered his hands on the dirty wall, frantically pressing and poking. Giles joined in, although he hadn't the slightest idea what he might be looking for. Something that gave way beneath his touch?

"Water demons are nasty beasts," whispered the boy. "Beware those teeth, for their bite is venomous. Ahh." Something clicked in the stone, and Jimson kept his hand pressed on it while he continued to search with the other. "Claws are so filthy, I seen a man die from a scratch."

Giles's devil-blade started to hum and lift from his scabbard. He pressed his hand down on the pommel to keep it in place. His cheek burned, reminding him of the consequences of allowing a monster too close. "Do not worry, boy. They won't get near enough to touch you. Didn't you also push a brick at your feet to open the outer wall?"

A high-pitched scream came from within the room.

"Ellen," cried Jimson, kicking at the bricks of the wall. Giles couldn't tell which one opened the door, but with a rattle and a groan a crack appeared before them, spilling light onto the dirty floor. Giles shoved it open far enough to squeeze his body through and leaped across the room, landing in the pool with a burst of sprayed water, his blade flying to his hand.

He spitted the first demon like a fish on a stick and turned to the other who held the knife at Ellen's throat. d.a.m.n, the water demon had carved Jimson's sister into a b.l.o.o.d.y mess.

"Let her go and you live."

The nymph cracked him a malicious smile, those buggy eyes straying to the mark on his face. "Where did you come from, gorgeous?" Her gaze flicked to her companion who still dangled upon his sword. "I never liked her much." And then those buggy eyes widened as Giles's devil-blade began to feast, sucking the fluid from the body until nothing but a sh.e.l.l remained.

Giles flicked the thing off his sword with a grimace. "Where's the other woman?"

The demon carved another circle from Ellen's flesh, but Jimson's sister did not cry out, her mouth slack, her eyes glazed with shock. "As pretty as you are, I do not think I'm inclined to tell you anything."

Giles's sword absorbed the last few drops from the other demon and twisted in his hand to point at the nymph, quivering in antic.i.p.ation. "Touch her again, and I will let it fly."

Her eyes studied the blade. "Dark magic, that thing in your hand." She heaved a sigh and released Ellen, who would have slid beneath the water if Jimson had not appeared to drag her away.

"'Twas naught but a bit of fun, warrior. We do not concern ourselves with human ambition overly much."

"Then you won't mind telling me where the other woman is."

She licked her lips with a black tongue, displaying sharp green teeth. "You need more than a human female to properly appreciate such a handsome face." She slid her hands down her chest, over her scaled bosom.