Tempt the Devil (The Devil of Ponong series #3) (26 page)

“So many
instruments of torture, Colonel. They overwhelm a girl. Kindly point me to the
ones with hooks,” she said.

Wordlessly, he pointed to the far left of the metal grid
bolted to the wall. This creature was loose in his fortress. Far more dangerous
than werewolves, more crafty than an octopus, as soulless as a drowned corpse.
She probably ate livers, or souls.

“So kind. Thank you. That’s exactly what I was looking
for.”

Hurust jumped when Cuulon slammed shut the heavy door and
threw the bolts.

He was locked inside with her.

~ ~ ~

Nashruu was glad she’d forgone her corset despite Simarn’s
scandalized tutting. Even without it, her clothes felt as if they clung too
tightly. Her skin felt slick and unclean.

Colonel Hurust’s secretary made her wait outside his
office again, a game she had no time for. She leaned forward in the hard wooden
chair until she saw him at his desk. He tried to pretend he couldn’t see her
waiting. Another soldier, perched on the edge of his desk, chatted about his
lucky evening at a place called the Dragon Pearl. Major Rheagus grew more
distracted as she continued to stare at him.

If only QuiTai had warned her this morning to keep her
farwriter with her. Now it was too late. Why did everything in this strange
place move as if struggling through knee-high snow? Everything except the clock.
It relentlessly moved forward while the militia made her wait in a hard wooden
chair in a bare hallway.

What was Cuulon doing to QuiTai? She shivered as her
imagination went to a dark, bloody place. Cuulon obviously hated QuiTai, but
why? He’d started it when he’d paid Petrof to kill the Qui. QuiTai hadn’t even
known he was behind it until last year. Although, when one thought about it,
the reason wasn’t important. All that mattered was the palpable loathing.
QuiTai might loom large in the imagination, and her personality certainly
filled a room, but her body was a fragile vessel for that power. In his rush to
make her suffer, Cuulon could easily go too far.

Nashruu jumped to her feet and walked into Major Rheagus
office. “Chief Justice Cuulon is about to torture Lady QuiTai against my direct
orders. Our King wants her alive. I insist you stop him immediately.”

Major Rheagus clearly wasn’t used to women storming into
his office. She could almost read the progression of his thoughts as his face
reflected them. He was outraged, but she was the Governor’s wife. Respect for
thirees
– how that word irritated
her – had been drummed into him since birth, so he hated them while
probably also believing deep down that she was superior to him. And while she
was only a woman, she claimed to speak for the King. Those warring facts put
him in a difficult spot.

He looked at the other soldier. A silent agreement seemed
to pass between them. He placed his palms on his desk. “Ma’am Zul…” he said
with false reluctance.

Could she simply kill him?

Alas, no, but she understood why QuiTai recommended it.
Instead, she raised a hand to stop him from saying something that might incite
her to pick up the pen beside his inkwell and jab it into his eye.

“Is your plan is to move as slowly as possible without
actually refusing to obey?” she asked.

He jerked back. The other soldier chuckled warily.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Make your farwriter available at
once.”

Major Rheagus leaned back in his chair. He smirked as he
put his boots up on his desk. “No.”

She rose as she felt heat flood her cheeks. She couldn’t
fail, not matter how humiliated she felt.

The other soldier laughed openly at her now.

There was nothing wrong with her glove, but she tugged at
the wrist while she steadied her nerves. She didn’t like this. If only people
would be reasonable – but they wouldn’t, because they always had to show
you they were powerful and you were not. They were cruel simply because they
could be. She used to cry from the frustration and humiliation, but years of
living with Grandfather had wrung every teardrop from her, every foot stomp and
outcry. “Your children, your wife, and your parents. Your sisters and brothers,
cousins, aunts, and uncles,” she said wearily. She pointed to the other
soldier. “Yours too.”

Of course Major Rheagus was confused. He probably thought
she’d gone strange, so he chuckled the way you did when your employer said
something a ten-year-old boy would find unsophisticated. “What is that, Ma’am
Zul?”

“The list of people who will die tomorrow at the hands of
assassins if you allow Cuulon to murder Lady QuiTai.”

One. Two. Three. Four.

That was long enough to hold his gaze so he knew she was
serious.

She spun around and walked out of his office. Once you’d
made a threat like that, there was nothing left to say. She forced herself to
walk slowly even though she wanted to run. As QuiTai had predicted, she was
shaking in her boots.

Her pulse drummed as she strained to hear what might be
happening behind her. Would Major Rheagus call out for her to stop? Would he
yield? She didn’t think so, but she hoped, right until the moment the fortress
gates slammed shut behind her, that they would take her seriously. Then she was
out in the sunshine. The mist from a wave was light on her skin, and only the
gulls heard her cry out her frustration into the wind. The families would have
to die. Once you made a threat like that, you had to go through with it, or you
were forever lost.

“Governor
Zul, why
are you in my office again?” Lizzriat asked.

“Because, honestly, I don’t know where to go anymore.”

“I told you. The Red Happiness.”

Kyam sat down in a wood chair. “I didn’t learn anything
there.”

Lizzriat rolled a kur and lit it. He didn’t offer it to
Kyam. “QuiTai swears you’re smarter than this, but I don’t see it.”

“You talk about me?”

A puff of exhaled smoke rose toward the draped fabric on
the ceiling. “Don’t be flattered. It wasn’t that kind of conversation. We were
talking about your mistakes in governing this town and which one of us should
be the unlucky one to pull you aside for a chat.”

They had no idea how hard it was to push the clerks and
department heads in the government building to do anything. It wasn’t fair to
judge his efforts by his results. That was yet another reason why he’d never
miss this stupid town.

“You
haven’t visited me. She hasn’t either.”

Lizzriat
stubbed out his partially smoked kur and picked up a pen that he fiddled with. “It’s
an ongoing negotiation. It requires many drinks late at night. Long silences. Rueful
laughter. Lightly stroking the inside of her arm. I’m sure you understand.”

There was
no reason to be jealous of Lizzriat. QuiTai could do what she liked.

“I came
back because I think you have more to tell me about Turyat.”

Lizzriat
put his feet up on his desk and leaned back. “No wonder you aren’t getting
anywhere. All you do is walk in circles. Are you sure you’re investigating the
right murder? His death is so trivial.”

“Who killed him?”

“Cuulon is the only one who loved him enough to put him
out of his misery.”

“Not Turyat’s wife?”

“She donned her widow’s veil the day you were named Governor.
One might suspect that she – well, it would be unkind to suggest she
smiled behind it, because I don’t know her heart, but I never got the
impression she was devastated. Thampurians don’t show their emotions in public,
though, so maybe she was truly upset but hid it skillfully.” Lizzriat rolled
his pen across his knuckles. “Very skillfully.”

That confirmed Kyam’s observations. “Can you think of
anyone else who might have killed him?”

“Maybe it was the militia. The ones who live in the
fortress. They used to keep to themselves, but lately they’ve spent a lot of
time in the quarter, making trouble.”

“Why would the militia murder Turyat?”

Lizzriat
jabbed the tip of his pen against his desk blotter, making dots across the
paper. “Have you spoken to QuiTai, or are you still sulking? She probably knows
who killed him.”

“I was
not –” Kyam lowered his voice. “Yes, I asked her if she knew. She told me
I had to figure it out for myself.”

Chuckling,
Lizzriat set down the pen. “Did she really?” A smile not only lit up his eyes
and face but seemed to invigorate his body as well. “She still surprises, doesn’t
she?”

“Always.
Do you know why she wanted to be arrested earlier today, before Turyat’s body
was found?”

What gave liars away was how long it took them to respond.
Too quickly – or as in Lizzriat’s case – far too slowly. It was as
if a difference engine had churned into action inside his head. Kyam half
expected Lizzriat’s mouth to open and a ribbon of paper to roll off his tongue
like a farwriter message.

He shook his head to clear away the image. How did
Lizzriat stay so sharp while breathing in vapor-tainted air day and night?

“Do you know something you’d like to tell me?” Kyam asked.
Sometimes a question like that had surprising answers.

Lizzriat leaned across the desk to pat his hand. “I know
lots of somethings, none of which I’d like to give away to you. Information has
value.”

“Do you want QuiTai to hang?”

“What a very interesting question, Governor. I can see the
benefits and drawbacks of her death, as well as her continued existence. So
call me neutral.”

This was going nowhere. Kyam knew he was wasting his
remaining time. He could feel freedom slipping from his fingers. “If you hold
anything back, you’re making sure she’s executed. That doesn’t sound neutral to
me.”

“I’m no expert at investigating murders, Governor, but if
I were you, I’d concentrate on the scene of the crime and who was there.”

“So you do know–”

“That’s common sense. You pretty much have to be present
at a murder to commit it. Unless, of course, one has a newfangled
contraption– Oh, damn it. Now you’re going to waste time thinking QuiTai
set up one of the toys in her office to kill him. Use the brains QuiTai swears
you have and realize how very lucky you’d be to get someone to stand at the
exact spot and wait patiently to be killed by a little contraption.”

“Point
taken.” If only Lizzriat would be helpful instead of making him feel defeated
already. “I tried to interrogate the workers over at the Red Happiness, but
their petty squabbling and stupid little personal vendettas drive me crazy. I
can’t stand listening to them bicker. It’s as if they expect me to solve it for
them.”

“They
expect QuiTai to step in, not you. They’re giving you the message to carry to
her since they can’t visit her and you can.”

“Even if
I tell her everything they say, she can’t step in as long as she’s in the
fortress.”

“Exactly.
That probably has someone very worried.”

Kyam perked
up. “Who? Tell me.”

“I can’t. I don’t dare. You’re Governor. You should know
what’s happening in this colony.”

Kyam’s last drop of patience had been wrung from him. He
opened his purse and tossed a handful of coins at Lizzriat. “Is that enough to
buy the information from you?”

“It isn’t even close to enough. If I’m seen siding with
QuiTai, she had better win, or I’m finished. It’s safer for me to stay neutral.”

“Sides? Winning? What’s going on?”

“Don’t come see me again. You’ve put me in a bad enough position
already. Go solve your case on your own, and let everyone see that you did it
without my help.”

Desperation was a swift tide engulfing him. “Please,
Lizzriat. Give me a hint.”

“Everything you need to know you’ll find at the Red
Happiness. And that’s all I’ll say. Now get out.”

Lizzriat opened his office door. Two huge Ingosolians
lurked in the hallway. When an Ingosolian shifted gender, they rarely went for
subtlety. These two were caricatures of men: brutish, overly muscled, and
bristling with red facial hair.

“I take it I’m to be dragged out to the curb,” Kyam said.

“If you don’t mind. I have a reputation to maintain, after
all.” Lizzriat turned to his thugs. “Make it look good.”

They gripped Kyam roughly by the arms. His boot heels dug
tracks in the thick carpeting the length of the hall and raised the nap on
every stair. They didn’t push hard when they shoved him out on the veranda, but
he reeled back a few steps to make it look good. They turned and walked back
inside, trusting him to complete the performance. Lizzriat would never make an
enemy carelessly.

~ ~ ~

It had seemed like a good idea when Kyam headed for Voorus’
apartment, but now that he was there with a cup of tea in one hand and plate of
sweets balanced on his knee, he wasn’t so sure. Something was odd about the way
Voorus was blushing and wouldn’t look him in the eye. Mityam Muul, however,
seemed quite content to talk.

“It’s been a busy first day here for you. Things aren’t
usually this exciting in Levapur,” Kyam told Mityam.

“Good. I wanted slow. The heat is wonderful. I can feel it
down in my bones.” Mityam grasped his tea cup between two cruelly twisted fists
and brought it to his lips.

With time slipping out of his grasp, Kyam didn’t feel he
could waste it on pleasantries. “You said you were with QuiTai from the moment
you left the harbor–”

“Even earlier. We rode the funicular down together,”
Voorus said.

Kyam nodded. “Her sarong looked normal at the harbor, but
when she got to my office, it was lumpy and odd.”