Anne Bishop - The Shadow Queen

Well, wasn’t that just fine?

She shook her head. “I guess males don’t outgrow it.”

“Outgrow what?” Glad to be out of the stuffy shop, Theran took a deep breath. Didn’t help. It was a fine summer morning, but it was starting to feel a bit too hot and sticky.

But that might have been him and not the weather.

“Put a man in a bakery and he turns into a boy.”

“You’re starting to sound like Vae.” Who was home sulking because he wouldn’t let her come with them. The townsfolk had enough to contend with, having a Queen trying to act like she was one of them, without a yappy dog around telling everyone what to do.

Cassidy bit her lip and shook her head.

Damn. And the morning had been going well. For the most part.

“It’s almost time for the midday meal,” Cassidy said.

“I don’t think so.”

“I want a steak, and you need one. Choose a dining house, Prince.”

You turn Queen fast enough when you want something, Theran thought. But the idea of a steak—and just sitting still for a bit—had more appeal than he’d first thought, so he led them to a dining house that had an enclosed courtyard for private outdoor dining.

The courtyard needed to be cleansed by a Black Widow. Blood had dined there—and done other things there.

It was clear that the owners of the establishment had made an effort to scour away the past, so Cassidy said nothing to upset anyone. Such things were best done quietly anyway. And since they had been outlawed, finding a Black Widow might not be the easiest thing.

Maybe Shira would know how to get in touch with other Black Widows.

A task for another day, Cassidy thought. The food was excellent, and even though she was less comfortable than she might have been, she could see herself being a regular guest here.

As for Theran . . . Well, the steak was waging war on the pastries, and judging by the color of his skin now, the steak was winning. So was the way a man who wore a Green Jewel burned food.

She waited until he’d eaten three-quarters of his steak. Then she reached over and snagged the rest with her fork.

“Hey,” Theran protested. “I wasn’t finished eating that.”

“Yes, you were,” Cassidy replied, setting that piece and the one she’d kept from her own meal on her bread plate.

“What . . . ?” Theran stared at her as she put the bread plate on the ground beside her.

“There you go, Vae,” Cassidy said.

Theran’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped as the Sceltie dropped the sight shield and gave him a tail-tip wag. She sniffed the steak and wagged her tail with more enthusiasm.

“When did she get here?” Theran asked.

“She caught up to us when we left the carriage park,” Cassidy said, giving him a wide smile.

“How’d she avoid being stepped on when no one could see her?”

“Grf.”

Guess Vae is still sulking, Cassidy thought. At least where Theran is concerned.

“She can air walk,” Cassidy said. “She was trotting above us.” She fiddled with her spoon and wondered how to ask a question she knew wouldn’t sit well with a warrior. Especially a Warlord Prince. “You weren’t aware of her, were you?”

“No, I wasn’t. Were you?”

“Yes. But kindred have a different feel from the human Blood, and it takes practice—and awareness—to detect their presence.”

“If they’re sight shielded and not yapping, they’d be hard to find,” Theran said.

“Grf,” Vae said, finishing the last bit of steak.

“They don’t have to sight shield to go undetected,” Cassidy said. “If there were twenty Scelties in a yard, could you pick out the one who was kindred? Especially if you weren’t aware of the existence of kindred? Kindred Scelties and horses lived around humans for a lot of years with no one realizing they were Blood. They don’t reveal their presence unless they choose to, Theran.”

She watched him absorb her words. Someone who wore a darker Jewel could have gone undetected and followed him, but he should have sensed a Purple Dusk witch who had been trailing him for hours.

A witch is a witch, Theran. Don’t dismiss one because she looks different from you.

A lesson the Blood in Kaeleer were still learning when it came to the kindred.

“Coffee?” he asked.

“Yes, please.”

She wanted to linger a little longer, since it was a lovely summer day. And now that Vae’s presence was acknowledged, she thought the two of them could persuade Theran to show her a particular part of town.

How did I get talked into this? Theran asked himself. He knew how. Sure he did. Two females yapping at him. One of them even growled at him when he’d refused to do this, and it wasn’t Vae.

So here he was, driving the pony cart into the landen part of the town.

“Landens usually have their own villages,” Cassidy said.

Theran nodded to the guards who patrolled this part of Grayhaven. Two nodded back and mounted their horses to provide an escort.

“Most still do,” Theran replied, “but some landens were resettled as part of Blood villages after their own villages burned during the uprisings.” And making them live so close to the Blood kept them on a very short leash.

That didn’t mean the Blood liked having a landen slum attached to their town.

Bitterness laced his voice as he looked at the shops they passed and the people who watched them. “Damn landens are nothing but a boil on the town’s backside.”

“They’re people,” Cassidy said. “They belong to this land, same as you.”

“They would have driven us out if they could. Took us two years to crush the uprisings.”

“How many died in those two years?” Cassidy asked.

“More Blood than we could afford to lose.”

“And how many landens?”

“Not enough.”

She sighed. “All the more reason for me to see this part of the town.”

Exactly the reason she shouldn’t be there. But it was pointless to argue now that they’d crossed that boundary, and there were other Blood wandering these streets.

Market day, Theran realized. When power—and the unspoken threat of its being unleashed—was another marker on the table, a few coins could buy a Blood family provisions for a week at the landen markets.

“What’s that?” Cassidy asked, sitting up straighter.

“A craftmen’s courtyard,” Theran replied, glancing in that direction. “Potters, weavers, and others of that sort put out their wares. Some even work on a piece to—”

“Stop,” Cassidy said. “Theran, stop the cart, I want to—”

“No.”

*Theran? Theran!*

Shit. The little bitch would yap at him for the rest of the day. And Cassidy wouldn’t be much better.

He gave the guards a psychic tap to alert them as he reined in.

Cassidy and Vae were out of the cart and walking back the way they’d come before he could set the brake and tie off the reins.

One of the guards dismounted and came to stand at the horse’s head. “I’ll keep an eye on the cart, but you’d best shield those packages. Lots of quick fingers here could lift a package and be on the next street before you know you’ve been robbed.”

“Thanks for the reminder.” Theran put a Green shield around the back of the cart, then hurried to catch up to Cassidy. If the packages were stolen, it would give the Blood a reason to shake this part of town. If the Queen was injured . . . Well, he wasn’t sure who would be going to war with whom, especially once Sadi and Yaslana heard about it, but no matter who stepped onto the battleground, a lot of the town would burn before the fighting was done.

Cassidy had stopped before a weaver’s table.