Read Online Cinnabar Shadows by Lynn Abbey - Free Book Online Page B

that, Mahtra was completely alone.
    She found herself in an austere chamber no larger than the august emerita's atrium, but empty, save for
a single black marble bench; and quiet, save for the gentle cascade of water flowing over the great black
boulder in front of the bench. There was no source for the water. Its presence, its endless movement, had
to be the manifestation of powerful magic.
    Mahtra had learned a few useful things in House Escrissar, like where to sit when she didn't know
what to expect next. She headed for that part of the wall that was farthest from the rock and yet afforded a
clear view of the now-shut golden doors. It was no different than sitting on Lord Escrissar's doorsill, except
the door was in front of her, not behind.
    "Have you been waiting long?"
    The doors hadn't opened, the young man hadn't come through them, and she nearly leapt out of her skin
at the sound of his voice.
    "Did I frighten you?"
    She shook her head. Surprise was one thing, fright another, and she knew the difference well enough.
He'd surprised her, but he wasn't frightening. With his lithe limbs and radiant tan, he could have been one of
the august emerita's slaves, if his cheeks hadn't been as flawless as the rest of him. As he was, with those
unmarked cheeks and wearing little more than his long, dark hair and a length of bleached linen wound
around his body, she took him for eleganta, like herself.
    "Who are you waiting for?" he asked, standing in front her and offering his hand.
    Without answering the question, she accepted help she didn't need. He was stronger than Mahtra
expected, leaving her with the sense of being set down on her feet rather than lifted up to them. Indeed,
there seemed something subtly amiss in all his aspects, not a disguise, but not quite natural either. He was
like no one she'd known, as different as she was, herself.
    In the space of a heartbeat, Mahtra decided that the eleganta was made, not born. That he was what
the makers meant when they called her a mistake.
    "I am waiting for your lord, King Hamanu," she answered slowly and with all her courage.
    "Ah, everybody waits for Hamanu. You may wait a long time."
    He led her toward the bench where she sat down again, though he did not sit beside her.
    "What will you tell him when he gets here? — If he gets here."
"If I tell you, will you tell me about the makers?"
    "Those makers," he said after a moment, confirming her suspicions and her hopes. "It's been a very
long time, but I can tell you a little about them... after you tell me what you're going to tell Hamanu."
    What he'd just told her was enough: a very long time. Made folk didn't grow up. She hadn't changed in
the seven years she could remember. He hadn't changed in a very long time. They weren't like Father or
the august emerita; they didn't grow old.
    Mahtra began her story at the august emerita's beginning and this seemed to satisfy her made
companion, though he interrupted, not because he hadn't understood, but with questions: How long had
Gomer been selling her cinnabar beads? What did Henthoren look like and had she ever met any other
elven market enforcers? Did she know the punishment for evading Hamanu's wards was death by
evisceration?
    She hadn't, and decided not to ask what evisceration was. He didn't tell her, either, and that convinced
her that he wasn't skimming words from her mind, but understood her as Mika had.
    When she had finished, he told her that the water-filled tavern was Urik's most precious treasure. "All
Hamanu's might and power would blow away with the sand if anything fouled that water-hoard. He will
reward you well for this warning."
    Reward? What did Mahtra want with a reward? Father and Mika were gone. She had only herself to
take care of, and she didn't need a reward for that. "I want to kill them," she said, surprising herself with
the venom and anger in her voice. "I want to kill Kakzim."
    A dark eyebrow arched gracefully, giving