Excerpt

Prologue

The gas lamps on the street corners of Alapra cast deep shadows. Keldan Sandilar skulked in their darkness with a woman of dubious repute. He felt a kind of thrill across his skin as he moved through the back streets, that had little to do with the coolness of the night air. The son of a duke, mere steps from the Kalan throne, rarely had occasion to skulk. Here, in the capital, he had a lifestyle that could be publicly enjoyed. His name was a skeleton key for the highest echelons of society and there wasn't a craftsman or trader who wouldn't throw open their doors, day or night, for his convenience.

But tonight was for activities best kept in darkness.

"We really should have done this somewhere else," he muttered, as they neared their destination. "They know me at the Rose."

The floral fragrance from walled, scented gardens mixed with that of horse manure and lantern smoke. The sound of laughter and music spilled from up ahead and the full moon slipped from behind a cloud. Keldan's footsteps sounded very loud on the familiar cobblestones. He was grateful, at least, that he had left the carriage some distance away.

His companion shrugged. "It was your choice, Your Highness. And a wise general fights on familiar ground, they say. Don't worry, my employer is very discreet." Her voice lowered to a throaty purr as she added, "And so am I."

Keldan noticed the front of her cloak had parted and the cut of her bodice offered an inviting glimpse of bosom. He chuckled. "Thus far I have enjoyed our dealings very much. I'm sure that will continue."

The Blue Rose came into sight ahead and Keldan's steps quickened. The sooner they were in a private room, the better. The Rose was an elegant, stone and plaster, converted manor house built well before the war. A mosaic path led up to the wide double doors, through an outdoor dining area ringed by balustrades and climbing, steel-hued roses. The area was strung with colored lanterns, giving it a joyful air. There were few patrons outside this time of night, however. The main action was inside, where some of the best singers and dancers the city had to offer were regularly seen on the ballroom's stage.

He had almost reached the door when a tall, broad-shouldered figure stepped out into the light. Keldan recognized the man's easy movement well before the familiar scar came into view. He gestured for his companion to move and tried to step aside before the King's Champion saw him but, exposed as he was in the center of the mosaic path, there was nowhere to go.

"Prince Keldan." The man known as Bloodhawk nodded in Keldan's direction. "Good to see you. How's your father?"

Keldan forced a smile and walked forward. Of all the timing! "Very well, Sir Brannon. You know Father—he's a prize stallion. I can pass on your regards when I next see him."

Brannon nodded. "I'd appreciate it. I don't get to see him as often as I'd like these days. Nor you, in fact. Would you care to join me for a drink?"

Keldan wondered, as he often did seeing Sir Brannon's simple clothes and military style haircut, how he managed to stay so well connected at court. The reality and the legend were strange bedfellows in this man. "Another time. I'm afraid I have business to attend to right now."

The girl giggled at that, giving the perfect vapid impression. She'd arranged her cowled cloak so that the comely shape of her body was unmistakable beneath the fabric, but the details of her face were lost.

Brannon's expression barely flickered. "Of course." He inclined his head slightly to them both. "Enjoy the rest of your evening."

"That could've been a disaster," Keldan murmured as he guided the girl through the back corridors of the Blue Rose to the VIP area and then into the private room he'd booked. "The last thing I need tonight is for a war hero friend of my father to discover me making a deal with Nilarians."

She pushed back her hood and flashed him a pretty smile as he closed the door behind them. "It's just a meeting. To be honest, I think you'll have to be an even shrewder businessman than your father to get a deal with my employer."

Keldan felt his jaw tighten. He turned his focus to the room, allowing the tension in his body to ease.

It was a room he'd used many times before, decorated in his favorite sky-blue and deep mahogany. The fresco cherubs always made him smile to think of all they'd witnessed in that spacious, four-post bed. Today, there was a box on the scroll-worked writing desk in the corner.

"Yours?" he said as the girl stripped off her cloak and laid it across the bed. The gown underneath clung to her curves.

"My employer's. I had it sent over earlier to make things easier for us."

Keldan smiled. "Easy is good."

Her full lips twitched upward. "It has its advantages. Shall I set up?"

He nodded, moving to the liquor cabinet. A decanter of his favorite wine had been set out and he poured himself a glass while the girl opened the box and laid its contents on the desk. A selection of fabric swatches, pots of pigment, a knife, and some brushes.

Keldan wondered if his father had ever seen the secrets of Nilarian silk. He doubted it. The old man was too bound up in the old enmity to have gotten so close. He was a shrewd businessman, all right, but Keldan's own skills were nothing to be sniffed at and this extra, personal touch of showing interest in the details would secure the deal. He was certain of it.

He lifted the wine to his lips and savored the taste of successfully out-dealing his father. Delicious.

"I should go and fetch my employer now," the girl said, turning away from the carefully arranged desk. She lowered her head a little and looked up at him, slyly. "Perhaps I could come back after the business is completed?"

Keldan chuckled softly. "You do that. I'll be here all night."

As the door closed behind her, Keldan wondered which outcome he was looking forward to more—the closing of the business deal or the return of the girl. Already he could feel his body reacting to the excitement of both. His stomach fluttered and his skin felt more sensitive, like a cool breeze was brushing through the room. His lips, especially, tingled as though from a phantom kiss.

He took a breath and shook it off. He wasn't some nervous virgin at his first ball. He tugged at his sleeve, straightened his back, and considered how he would greet the Nilarian.

The tingling in his lips intensified.

Keldan frowned. He took a few steps toward the bed before the tingling began in his legs as well. His toe caught on the thick carpet and he fell, sprawled, face down on the bed.

The sensation spread up his thighs, and crippled his hands and forearms. His tongue felt like a handful of needles in his mouth. Then the tingling was replaced by a terrible numbness, swallowing his body's ability to move, like a mouse down a cold, reptilian throat. He struggled against it and almost managed to pull himself up before his muscles gave out completely and he fell back on his face.

The world huddled close around him, pressing in with his fear. A shout for help produced only a weak sound, muffled by bedding. After that, it was an effort to draw in enough air just to stay conscious. Time was lost. There was nothing in existence but his own fast-beating heart and loud, rasping breaths.

A rivulet of sweat ran across the skin of his forehead, grazed the side of his temple, and slipped into his wide open eye with the sting of salt. The sensation penetrated his panicked mind: the numbness was wearing off. Perhaps the paralysis would too.

Relief almost deafened him to the sound of the opening door. Footsteps approached the bed.

"Ah," said a voice. "I believe you're almost ready."

Keldan tried to respond but the paralysis had now completely taken his voice.

The footsteps moved over to the desk. "Here we are." The scrape of the knife blade on the wood as the intruder picked it up was unmistakable. "Now, let's have some fun."