The Magehound

"So I suppose that knowing what you know, you can't afford to be seen with me anymore," she said.

"Knowing what we know, you can't afford to be seen at all," he countered. "Promise me that you'll leave the city at once. I will learn what Cassia knows, and somehow I will get this information to you." He smiled faintly. "All you need do is acknowledge that the debt between us is paid in full. Even a jordain knows something of honor."

It was a princely offer, far better than Tzigone had right to expect. What Matteo said, he would do. It might take him a while to talk his way around the matter of her escape, but she felt he could come up with a convincing story if pressed to do so. Even so, the thought of leaving the matter in his hands distressed her, and not entirely because of her reluctance to rely upon others. Tzigone enjoyed company, she made friends quickly and parted lightly. This time, the parting was not so easily done.

But she painted a smile on her face and extended her hand to him. "Deal."

To Matteo's eyes, the girl's smile was a brave thing, not unlike a small boy dressing up in his father's armor and weapons. He took her hand in a comrade's clasp.

Tzigone muttered an expletive and dropped his hand. She leaned forward and wrapped herself around him in a quick, hard embrace. Then she was gone, scrambling down the tree as nimbly as a squirrel.

Matteo sighed. In the sudden lull her absence left behind, he noticed the throbbing in his head and the heavy thudding of his heart. He pressed against his temples with both hands to distract the pain and then again at the pressure points at the base of his neck. His fingers brushed through his thick dark hair and stopped short-not because of what they found, but because of what they did not. No silver chain, no emblem of his order.

His jordain's pendant was missing again.

The young man's lips twitched, then he chuckled. This was not merely a theft but a message — Tzigone's way of assuring him that they were destined to meet again.

Though his jordaini masters would certainly disapprove, the thought did not displease Matteo in the slightest.

It took Matteo the better part of an hour to work his way down the bilboa tree. His first action was to find a member of the city guard and place himself under the man's jurisdiction. After all, he was being held for Inquisition, and he was currently a fugitive from the king's high counselor. They took him to the palace and sent a ru

He walked beside her in silence as they made their way into the palace gardens. Cassia finally came to a stop under an arbor heavy with ripe yellow grapes.

"This need not come before an inquisitor. Let us be frank with each other. I don't like you and I don't wish you well, but I dislike seeing any jordain come under the jurisdiction of those accursed magehounds. Tell me what you know about that girl. Spare yourself the disgrace of Inquisition, and save your order the trouble of dealing with your latest infraction."

Matteo spread his hands. "There is little to tell. Not long ago I defended an unknown girl against attack in a tavern. Only later did I learn that she was a thief and a fugitive."

"But you knew the identity of her attacker."

"All too well," he said bitterly. "I saw the wemic kill my best friend that very morning. I will not deny that this influenced my actions."

"Imprudent, but understandable," Cassia allowed. "Yet you continued to see the girl from time to time."

"I had little choice," he said dryly. "Tzigone considered herself in my debt and acted accordingly. She appeared whenever she thought she could do me some service, only to end up increasing her debt."

"You never made an effort to alert the authorities?" He shrugged. "Our meetings were always at her instigation, and they were both unexpected and brief. I could not alert the authorities of something I could not anticipate."

"The girl always walked away from these meetings, unscathed and undeterred. How do you explain that?"

"How do the guards of a dozen cities explain it? Or Mbatu, the wemic warrior who serves as personal guard to the magehound Kiva? Tzigone is harder to hold than starlight. I am a humble counselor," Matteo said without a trace of irony. "It would be presumptuous to claim I could do what so many have attempted and failed."

"Humble!" The king's counselor sniffed. "That is probably the first time someone's listed that quality among your many virtues."

"Yet I owe my current position to my many failings," Matteo said wryly.

Cassia lifted one hand in the gesture of a fencer acknowledging a hit. "I am seldom wrong. Would you like to hear me admit that I misjudged you? Help me in this matter, and I will consider my error to be a fortunate thing."

He studied the woman's pale, serene face for signs of duplicity. "I was imprisoned in the same chamber as Tzigone. At your command?"

"Of course. The thief claimed that you had let her into the palace."

"I did not bolt my shutters," he said dryly. "Tzigone no doubt took that as an invitation. Let me rephrase my question. Would you be gratified to hear that Tzigone stole my medallion of office?"

Her intelligent black eyes narrowed as she tried to follow his meaning. "Not particularly. Speak plainly!"

Matteo took the message from his bag and handed it to her. As Cassia skimmed it, her lips thi

"You thought I sent this message to you, expecting that the girl would steal it?"

"A reasonable assumption," Matteo said.

"Entirely reasonable," she agreed. "Tell me, where is she now?"

"I do not know. She told me she pla

Cassia's smile was mocking but brittle. "And you believed her? As a jordain, you are constrained to tell the truth. But surely you are not such a fool that you think everyone follows the same code?"

He met her mocking gaze and gave away nothing of what was in his heart. "No, my lady, I am not such a fool as that."

The second note from Cassia came late that night and was not such a surprise as the first. Matteo thanked the messenger and smoothed out the parchment. Written in the counselor's emerald ink was a brief message commanding that he come to her chambers at once.

Commanding. Matteo noted this turn of phrase with deep consternation. In her first message, Cassia had admitted that she could not command him. Perhaps now she felt differently. Perhaps he was now her hound to call. All she had to do was speak the word, and his life as a jordain was over. He could continue being an honored servant of truth as long as he was willing to place Cassia's demands above personal integrity. But what of his promise to Tzigone? How could he learn what secrets Cassia held if he did not play her game for at least a little while longer?

It was a complex problem, and not at all like the sciences he had devoted his life to learning. With a sigh, Matteo tucked the message into his tunic and made his way through the palace to the luxurious apartment of the king's counselor.

He tapped at the door, which swung open slightly. This did not surprise him-after all, Cassia was expecting him.

Softly calling the jordain's name, he eased into the room. The sight before him stopped him cold. Cassia lay on the floor, her pale face a sickly bluish gray and her black eyes bulging.

Matteo knelt beside her. Her skin was cool to the touch.

He guessed that she had been dead for several hours. The cause of death was immediately apparent. A silver chain had been twisted tightly around her neck so that it dug deep into the skin.