"You lost some of your brothers." I rubbed his back.
"And all sisters. Only seven of those in beginning. All gone, now."
"I'm sorry, Farzi."
"The ones who make us become afraid. Someone hunting them. And us. They sell us to Master Arvil. He place chips." Farzi pointed to a spot on his chest. Arvil had implanted location chips on the reptanoids, just as others did for their pets or children. Farzi could never escape Arvil San Gerxon. No wonder Arvil sent them off with barely a thought. He could find them again if they ever thought to run.
"So, they used you. Then sold you to Arvil, so he could do the same."
"Yes. You are exact. But on full moon, we do as our father did. He have to turn, Reah. We have to turn. But we still know who is friend when we turn. We do not harm. Enemy—we know them, too." I blinked at Farzi. I knew what he was saying and I wasn't about to argue. I nodded my understanding.
"We like Reah to come," Nenzi spoke up.
"I'll come along for you, Nenzi." I might not have for any of the rest of Arvil's crew, but I would for these. There was an honor of some sort that the reptanoids held, and I had no problem going with them.
We all stood, and one by one, with moonlight shining down upon them, each reptanoid became what their father had been before them, a lion snake shapeshifter. I wondered if Norian Keef knew what they were. Somehow, I knew he wasn't their parent—that one had knowingly allowed their creation, even if he'd not given his children any of his time afterward. I think they missed that—having a parent. I knew that feeling. Perhaps that's why I felt close to them. The largest—Farzi—was around fourteen hands in length, the others varying in size with Nenzi being the shortest at around eleven hands. I gathered their clothing, placed it in a neat pile and followed behind them as they slithered toward Grish's plantation.
The house was quiet—there was only one guard posted outside Grish's suite. Seven lion snakes and I held back, watching as Nenzi crawled up the door facing until he looped himself around the first of a series of light fixtures hanging from the ceiling. All was dark inside the hallway; the guard might have thought to look upward, otherwise. An open transom window lay above Grish's bedroom door; Nenzi used that to crawl inside.
We waited. Nenzi came back half a click later, retracing his path. His lion snake dropped silently onto the floor and we crept outside again. I followed the reptanoids that night as they hunted prey—capturing rodents, sleeping birds and other snakes. I didn't turn my head away while they swallowed their meal whole. I thought it was important that they knew I didn't find them repulsive. A few clicks before dawn, they returned to our original gathering place, regained their humanoid shape and dressed.
The same physician I'd tossed against the wall the day before pronounced heart failure as the cause of Grish's death and got away from the plantation as quickly as he could. He probably thought the warlocks had done it and didn't want to tangle with any of them. Nenzi had been discreet—when I went in with the others to check on Grish, I didn't see any sign of bite marks anywhere.
Several more of Grish's assistants died before the morning was out, after they attempted to argue with Arvil over who now owned Grish's lands. Arvil and the warlocks won. Arvil shot two; three others were fried by Celestan, I think. Ry, Tory, the reptanoids and I took a long walk while that argument took place. When we returned, it was to see Grish's remaining servants driving away in one of the hoverbuses kept at the plantation.
"I'll need staff here—we must plow and plant quickly," Arvil said when I returned to the plantation. He didn't seem daunted by the task. That's how Ry, Tory and I, along with Farzi and two other reptanoids, ended up in the nearest city, looking to hire workers. Nenzi drove.
"We made sure they could do as they said," I told Arvil later. I didn't tell him I knew if they were lying. We found experienced workers who knew how to operate the equipment. Tory sent mindspeech, joking over the fact that Lendill might have, in his words, a cow, if he could see what we were doing right then. I just shrugged, smiled at the inexplicable cow statement and went on. The fields were plowed two eight-days later—rain had come three of those days, which held things up a little. Arvil sent Carthin somewhere to get the drakus seed to plant—I suppose it was a secret location only he and the Hardlows knew. Ry said he could follow the signature path and sent the information to Lendill when Carthin returned.
Delvin feels power signatures from wizards and warlocks. How are you getting around that? I sent to Ry. We were having an after-dinner drink around the pool. Farzi and the others had been out in the fields, supervising the work. Nenzi headed the machinery repair detail. He was happiest, I think, when he came home covered in grease and muck.
Mom, Ry answered my mental question. She has a shield around me that no wizard or warlock can crack. When I lifted an eyebrow, he explained. She's mated to Kifirin, remember? She's what he is.
And I didn't bow to her?
She doesn't like it.
Thank the stars. I thought I'd messed up, somehow.
"I haven't heard from Reah since I sent Ry and Tory. I get all the reports from them, now." Lendill flopped onto Norian's sofa. "Why do you have a bigger office than I do?"
"Because I'm your boss." Norian knew Lendill was teasing. "Why are you worried that Reah isn't giving you the reports? Ry and Tory have more experience at this."
"They didn't know how Grish died, but Ry thinks Reah knows something. He says she was out half the night. Grish was dead the next morning."
"Did she kill him?"
"Tory says no—there was a guard posted outside all night."
"Doesn't matter—we may find out who the Alliance double agent is this way. They'll have to contact San Gerxon if they want to keep getting paid."
"True. And I didn't shed a tear over Grish—he's probably been smuggling drugs and contraband with his fruit and vegetable shipments for years. That's how he met up with his Alliance contacts, most likely."
"Undoubtedly."
"I still want to hear from Reah."
"Then send her mindspeech."
"She doesn't like talking with me."
"You just don't like feeling guilty."
"Neither do you."
"That's why I put you on this." Norian was grinning at his oldest friend.
"Do you think she'll ever get over this—all of it?" Lendill leaned back on the sofa and closed his eyes.
"No idea. Why are you worried about it?"
"No reason." Lendill's lie had Norian frowning.
"Have you heard from that son of yours?" Wylend Arden asked Erland as soon as Wylend's guards left his study.
"Yes, Reah is fine. Ry said she almost knifed somebody because they grabbed one of her people."
"Well, I can't blame her. Can you?"
"I would have put a spell on them, but the intent would be the same."
Reah? I hadn't gotten mindspeech from Lendill in a long time.
Vice-Director? I wanted to keep this formal if I could. I was cleaning up in the bathroom before getting into bed with Tory.
Reah, Ry says that you were out half the night when Grish died. He says he doesn't think you had anything to do with his death, but that you might know how he died. I'd like that information, please, to put in the case file.
I stood rooted to the bathroom floor for ticks, trying to form words to tell Lendill Schaff how Grish had died without getting the reptanoids into more trouble. He died of snakebite, I finally handed Lendill the truth. I just wasn't going to give the complete truth.
And you know it was snake bite because? Lendill left the question hanging.
Because I saw the snake that bit him. Watched it crawl in and then crawl out. Satisfied?
What kind of snake?
No idea. What kind of snakes are local?
Three that I can tell—that are poisonous, anyway. Field vipers, white-mouthed adders and lion snakes, Lendill replied. I think he was looking the information up on his comp-vid.
Do any of those have a black pattern on their scales?
Only the lion snake.
Then it must be that one, I said. Black, teardrop patterns, one end to the other.
That's a lion snake all right. Lendill sent a mental sigh. And the death is quick—you only have a few ticks to administer antivenin. Grish probably didn't live long.
So, no pain or thrashing about in terror?
No—it happens too quickly, Reah.
Too bad, I returned.
I see you didn't like Grish.
He was a murderer of innocents, Lendill.
Reah, I have a question for you.
What is it, Vice-Director?
Will you marry me?
Chapter 12
What's wrong with her? Lendill demanded. Tory had heard Reah hit the bathroom floor. Lendill was sending mindspeech to both Tory and Ry the moment he failed to get a response from Reah.
Out cold, Tory replied, slapping Reah's cheek lightly. "Reah? Reah baby, what's wrong?" Ry stood over Tory, unsure what to do. He didn't want to ask for a physician—that could be trouble.
Let me know if I should send someone, Lendill instructed his operatives. Lendill considered contacting Karzac—with a Larentii's help, the healer could get in and out without raising any suspicion. Lendill just didn't want the tongue-lashing Karzac was likely to hand out afterward.
She's coming around, Tory sent. Lendill breathed a relieved sigh.
Tell her—Lendill began—tell her that I'm serious. About what I said to her. Tell her I want to talk to her about it when she gets back. Tell her that it's making me crazy.
I'll give her the message. Tory cut off the communication.
Tory was washing my face with a cloth that Ry had handed to him when I came around. Had I truly fainted when Lendill Schaff had—no. He couldn't have asked that. Couldn't have. Not with the way he'd treated me.
"Back, now, avilepha?" Tory was brushing back what little hair I had with the washcloth.