Shadow War - Deborah Chester [80]
The Magria shook her head. Truly she had never felt as blind and helpless as she did now, with no inkling of how to judge the events taking place.
She took Elandra’s cold, still hand between hers. “We are falling into darkness,” she whispered. “Kostimon has given the shadow gods the means to unchain themselves. You have foreseen their return. You alone have divined our way of escape. What is it, little one? What is it?”
But Elandra lay still and wan, lost as yet to all of them.
Chapter Eleven
In Agel's study, Caelan stood a moment longer after the woman left, his mind awash with her beauty. He had never seen anyone like her before. She was exotic, unusual. Slanting cheekbones, almond eyes fringed with incredibly long lashes, a voluptuous mouth, hair like darkened copper. She smelled of sandalwood and cinnabar, clean and inviting. Tall and slender, richly gowned beneath her cloak, she came from another world far from his, a forbidden world he would never enter. He felt a little stunned by her, like a man who had stood too long in the sun.
She had been quick and clever, too slippery to convince. He did not believe she was truly the empress as she had claimed. Despite Agel’s collaboration, Caelan thought she was probably an attendant, a lady highborn and very adept at deception. But she was too young to be empress; she was younger than he. Besides, for all her cleverness, she had not acted like a wife. She seemed confused whenever the emperor was mentioned. She had stammered stupid things about rules that kept her from seeing the man.
Wives were not kept from their husbands. That was nonsense.
But if she was only a lady of the court, then no matter what she had said or half promised, she could not really help him.
Hopelessness swept over Caelan. He sighed and felt weariness sink through his bones.
“Run,” the woman had advised him.
He could barely walk, and yet he knew her suggestion came from genuine concern. He had no future here. Even if the prince still lay deeply unconscious and knew nothing of Caelan’s attempt to betray him, Caelan could not return. He had taken the prince home, but that ended his service. Already he had torn the prince’s coat of arms from his sleeve and hurled it into a roadside ditch.
Where, then, did he go? Did he slip out again through the side gate of the palace, winked on his way by the sentry who had won such a fortune on him? Did he hide himself in the city, waiting for the bounty hunters to sniff him out? Did he set out along a road? Did he take passage on a ship? No sea captain would allow him aboard as a passenger, looking like he did.
Could he admit defeat and give up when he was this close to the emperor? Or should he try again?
Aching and tired, he limped to the door and eased it open a crack.
The passageway seemed clear. He stepped out, holding his breath, and headed down it. There had to be a way to reach the emperor. He would find it.
As he passed the door to the infirmary, however, it swung open and Agel stepped out.
Astonished, Caelan stopped in his tracks. “You! What are you doing here? I thought you left.”
Agel shook his head and pointed to the bulging pouch he carried over one shoulder. “I had preparations to make. And I could not leave you here in such terrible condition.”
Caelan was not ready to forgive him. Kinsmen should stand together, no matter what their private differences were. He had seen behavior in Agel today that shamed him.
“All I need is a meal,” Caelan said, knowing that what he really wanted was a soaking bath, a massage, and several hours of sleep.
Agel nodded. “Let me tend you first. It won’t take a moment, and then I will go to the prince.”
Agel walked back into the study, and Caelan followed. His mind was too blurred with fatigue for him to wonder much why Agel had delayed leaving. In a way, Caelan found himself relieved. He needed his cousin