Jaelan picked at the bread in his hand. "There isn't a place on my body she did not beat when I was a child."

Aradia sat back in her chair. "And no one stopped her?"

"Why should they? I was not a native son, but an outcast from the Prophet-only-knows-where, the product of two unknowns who obviously didn't want me. I was nothing to the people of this village...disposable. What did it matter what Meridia and her sister did to me?"

"Did you tell your father what was happening?"

Jaelan looked away. "If I had, things would've only gotten worse."

"Did you ever consider running away?"

"Where would I have gone?"

Aradia shrugged. "Amazeen women are trained from childhood to look after themselves. Even in the middle of an ice field, there are ways to survive. The Sisters of Fate plan our lives from birth and They--"

"The Rysalian Goddess of Fate had plans for me, too, wench."

"What do you mean?"

"Females don't like me, or haven't you noticed? Even the goddess Mammetu. She spun her web to keep me here until the Prophet decided mysimtum ."

"What is that?"

"My fate."

"Which was?"

"As a Shadowlord," he said through clenched teeth. "By the time I was six, I knew I was different from the other children. Much to my surprise I could read Meridia's mind, hear what she was thinking, and knew when to avoid her. I took to staying away from home, fending for myself as best I could. Most of the time, they were glad to be rid of me. When Samiel came back, I would, too, and when he left again, I left. I stole food where I could find it. I learned to fish at Lake Ashwi. There was an old goat herder's hut near the lake, and I made that my home, stealing blankets and taking castoff clothing from garbage heaps."

Aradia winced at the thought of a lonely boy being forced to wear filthy clothing thrown away by people who should have been caring for him.

"It wasn't as bad as it sounds," Jaelan said, intercepting her thoughts. "I rather enjoyed it, because no one came after me with a belt or a switch. And no one called me bastard to my face or told me I was a demon from the Abyss."

"You must have thought you were evil when you read her mind."

"I have never thought of my ability as being evil. I think of it as a gift the Prophet gave me to help me stay alive."

"But others think it evil."

"That they do."

"How old were you when people began to know you could read their thoughts?"

Jaelan dredged the last piece of fried bread through the pebbly fish gravy on his plate. "Nine."

Aradia took a sip of coffee. "How did the village react?"

He pushed away his plate, his appetite gone. "You need to know what transpired before that day in order to understand." He took a deep breath, then continued. "It was high summer, and the heat was so intense no one dared venture outside. Meridia ordered me to make sure the geese had water. I did as she demanded, and when I came back to tell her the birds were all right, she attacked me like a wild beast. I didn't even know what I'd done to anger her. The next thing I knew, I was lying on a pallet, barely able to move and in so much pain, I thought I was dying. Not knowing where I was frightened me so badly I couldn't speak."

"And where were you?"

"In a tent somewhere on the caravan route with Samiel. He told me Meridia was dead and I would be traveling with him from then on."

"How did she die?"

Jaelan drained his cup of coffee and held it out for her to refill. "He said it was a massive stroke. She died beating me." "Sweet Merciful Alluvia," Aradia whispered. "Why?" "I had tracked mud into the house. I suppose she thought I did it on purpose." Aradia let out a long sigh. "Did things get better for you?" He shrugged. "For a while, but that was before the King's agent came to ask Samiel to lead a caravan of nobles on a tiger hunt in Fazdia."

"Which king was this?"

"King Kharis, the father of our present king."

A shudder of distaste rippled through Aradia. "I've heard he was an evil man."

Jaelan smiled, but the emotion remained clear of his tawny eyes. "Not nearly as evil as his son, Hasani."

"The thought of my sister with that one makes my skin crawl," Aradia said through clenched teeth.

Jaelan leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "His wickedness aside, he loves females. He'll treat her well

enough, for she's beautiful. Once he's broken her maidenhead, more than likely he'll forget about her."

"From your lips to Alluvia's ears." Aradia glanced at him. "You think Orithia is beautiful?"

He nodded. "Not as beautiful as you, but I wouldn't turn her way if she came to my bed."

Aradia grinned. "I bet you wouldn't." At Jaelan's snort, she shook her head and returned to the former topic. "So what

happened when Samiel led the caravan to Fazdia? Isn't that near Dahrenia?" "Aye, it's about ten miles from the Nilus River." He stared at the table, his expression inscrutable, but a muscle worked in his lean jaw.

"Was it that bad?"

"It was the day I met Lord Gehenna and his brother, Arch-Deacon Jahannum Dahur of the Brotherhood of the

Domination."

"From the way you say their names, they're not men whose acquaintance I'd enjoy making."

"You wouldn't."

"Did you run afoul of them?"

Jaelan's eyes narrowed in memory. "I made enemies of both that day."

"At nine?" she asked, her eyebrows elevated. "What did you do?"

He scratched at a faint scar on his right cheek. "Before that, I could read Meridia's mind. But I realized that day I could read the minds of others, too. I'd never tried it with Samiel, but then again, I'd had no reason. Despite his gruffness, he treated me well enough. Sofia was a different matter, and I had tried with her on occasion, but she tended to be scatterbrained and never kept one thought in her mind for long. Since none of the other children in Uadjit would have anything to do with me, I was pretty much alone with just Meridia's thoughts to catch. But that day in Fazdia, things changed. When the knowledge settled in that I could delve into the minds of those around me, childlike, I tried it out on everyone with whom I came into contact." A deep scowl passed over his face. "I made the mistake of reading the wrong mind that day."

"The king's?"

"One of Gehenna's henchmen from the Tribunal." After running both hands through the thick hair at his temples, he laced his fingers behind his neck and lowered his head. "I've often cursed myself for reading the man's thoughts that day...one of the worst mistakes I'd ever made."

"What was he thinking?"

"Who to blame for the king's death that evening."

Aradia blinked. "He was planning an assassination?"

"The Brotherhood was, and the murder of not only King Kharis, but the young prince Hasani, as well. Since Kharis had no other sons, Arch-Deacon Jahannum would have installed the king's cousin, Imhonen, a young man with limited mental ability. Imhonen would have been the perfect puppet, doing whatever the Brotherhood wished."

"A terrible thought."

"Aye, but not far off the mark even now with Hasani. He's a weak monarch, easily led, and fearful of the power of the Domination."

"I take it you told your father about the planned assassination."

"Samiel was not in camp. He'd gone to Sigil for extra supplies--King Kharis was a man of extraordinary appetite."

"I heard he was the size of a barge," Aradia quipped.

Jaelan chuckled. "A small barge, but aye, he was grossly overweight."

"So whom did you tell?"

The smile left Jaelan's face. "A minor guard by the name of Sekhem Neter."

"Another man you don't like."

"I despise the son-of-a-bitch, and one day I'll slit his treacherous throat."

"He didn't believe you?"

"He said he didn't, but he reported it to his sergeant to cover his ass, just in case."

"Did the sergeant seek you out?"

"No. He went to his lieutenant, who passed the information up the line until it reached the ear of the Chief Guard." Jaelan snorted. "Another hour and it would have been too late."

"Since King Kharis lived to a ripe old age and his son now sits the throne, word must have reached the right ear."

Jaelan sputtered, then began laughing so hard, tears came to his eyes. He swiped them away.

"What did I say that was so funny?" she demanded, her face hot.

He held up a hand until his laughter passed, then gave her a wicked look. "His name was Tarsis, a tough old bastard. He had only one ear--his right one--the other having been removed as a punishment when he was a young man. His face is a road map of vicious scars from that time, as well."

"Oh," she said, seeing the unintentional humor. "He must have been something to look at. Were you afraid of him?" "While he was as ugly as a Diabolusian warthog and as foul-tempered as a cornered cobra, he nevertheless seemed to like children, even though few of them would venture near him."

"Because of the way he looked."

Jaelan nodded. "He hasn't gotten any better looking over the years, either," he said, and a warm tone entered his voice.

"He became a friend?"

"A mentor. But, aye, I consider him a friend. He's retired now, but he stayed at Abbadon, so I see him almost every day."

"When he was told about the plot, he sought you out?"

"And demanded I tell him what I'd heard."