Cold Fire (Spiritwalker #2) Page 149
He raised the cup to his lip. The tea smelled of flowers.
Hands in fists, Drake muttered, “Dear Lady of Fire, must we hear this entire recital?”
The general lifted his gaze to follow the pacing fire mage. “James.”
With a look shot at me, Drake walked out to stand on the balcony.
The general returned his attention to me. “No one knew what this cold mage looked like, except he was a man of noble station, like to a prince in bearing and disposition. Because of Bee’s dream—it was the jacket more than the kiss—we realized it was the cold mage you were married to.”
“Bee knew what he looked like,” I said in a low voice.
She wiped her nose with the back of a hand. “I’m so ashamed, Cat. I tried to draw him, but none of the sketches looked right. I thought you truly didn’t care for him.”
“Because I would kiss someone like that if I didn’t care for them!”
She glanced toward the balcony, and Drake’s slim back.
“I didn’t kiss him like that!” I cried. “He got me drunk!”
The general turned his cup once all the way around before he directed his gaze toward the balcony. “James? Are you telling me you took the liberty of your isolation on Salt Island and used it to seduce this innocent young woman by getting her drunk?”
Drake turned, chin lifted as if he had absorbed another blow. “She said yes! She wasn’t that innocent, if you ask me.”
“There’s a tale you told yourself to justify your actions,” said the general in a disgusted way that made me understand why Bee liked him. He looked at me. “Cat, eat.”
The two poached eggs stared at me as if begging to be devoured in all their exquisite flavor. My stomach growled. Vai would urge me to eat. I set spoon to eggs.
“We realized you could lead us to the cold mage, if we laid our course properly. I thought if we could capture him, then we would persuade him that the mage Houses were mistaken in their goals—obviously he already thought so—and that he should join us.”
“What if he said no?”
“You have me there, Cat. I don’t intend to die. But I prefer allies to enemies.”
“You used me. You might as well have thrown me into the sea not knowing whether I was going to drown.” I set to work on the potatoes and bacon.
“We are not so careless. Whether or not James healed you, he did save you from Salt Island. For I assure you, you would not have left the island once you were bitten. The Taino are very strict about that law. We delivered you to Expedition. We didn’t realize none of the locals would talk. By then I had gone to Sharagua. We returned to Expedition only three nights ago.”
Which Kayleigh had told Vai. In fact, the general appeared to know very little about Vai’s situation.
“How did you track us down?” I asked.
“Early on, Jasmeen told me the radical leadership had been informed that a maku fire bane wanted to meet with them to discuss his mission to end the threat I posed to Europa. They didn’t want to meet with him because the first assassination attempt was so crudely done that some suspected it was meant to fail in order to raise sympathies for me.”
“So after all,” I muttered, spearing a piece of bacon as I contemplated Kofi’s suspicions, “they might have suspected the meeting with the maku fire bane was a trap. How odd!”
A smile flashed on the general’s face. “Spoken like Daniel. But after I left for Taino country, the radicals began to discuss more seriously the need to meet with a man who claimed to have the ability to kill me. Jasmeen heard from one of the young women some trifling gossip about the maku’s lost woman. The gal had turned up unexpectedly. Jasmeen sewed the pieces together. With her help, I arranged the meeting and raid the moment I returned to Expedition.”
I choked on the last of the bacon, but I forced it down. Then I picked up a roll, still warm from the oven, and I shredded it into tiny pieces.
“The wardens were not going to kill him, Cat. They were simply going to take him into custody and bring him to me.”
He returned my gaze with a clear, unguarded look. Either the man was a shameless liar, or he was so deluded that he believed everything he said. Or maybe, just maybe, he was telling the truth. “You make it sound as if the wardens are working for you.”
He drained his cup and, turning in his chair, addressed Bee instead of answering me. “Beatrice, the world has not ended, dear girl. Your cousin still loves you. Both of you have been sorely used, and it is no wonder you are angry. May I have some more tea? Do come eat.”
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