His palms were darker than his brown skin. And there was something in the center of them.
Spikes. There were spikes through his hands, nailing them to —
Her gaze shot up. She saw the hair first, the loose hair she’d noticed before and —
It was not a guard. Not even a man. It was a woman, nailed to the back of the guard box by her feet and hands, her head lolling, her eyes dead and staring.
“Moria!”
She tore her gaze from the corpse.
“It’s a woman. She’s dead. They’ve nailed her up to look like a guard.”
“A woman?” He frowned. “Why would they use —?”
He stopped short as Moria squeezed through the window.
“Where are you going?” he said, but she was already in the tower. With a clatter of blades, Tyrus followed.
FOURTEEN
Moria climbed down the tower ladder. At the base was a door leading into town. When she reached it, Tyrus called, “Stop.” His tone was not that of a friend giving advice, but a prince issuing an order. He jumped down the rest of the way, knocking into Daigo, who snapped and glowered.
“Don’t shove me aside next time, then,” Tyrus said to him.
When Moria reached again for the door, Tyrus caught her arm. He held fast, his free arm going around her waist, pulling her against him, his mouth at her ear, whispering, “Steady,” as he held her still. She could feel herself shaking against him. She tried to pull away, embarrassed, but he only tightened his grip, his body against hers.
“I know…” She swallowed. “I know why they used a woman. I know what’s out there.” It is like Edgewood.
“You don’t know that.”
Her chin shot up. “I do. I —”
“You suspect it. You cannot know. It could be a trap, and if you rush in, you’ll…” He trailed off, and when he spoke again, steel threaded his voice. “I feared a trap with the guards, and I wanted you to come down.”
“I —”
“I may outrank you, Moria, but no one commands you. I understand that. I will ask, though, that you pay me the courtesy of at least listening when I speak.”
“I —”
“I had cause to be concerned. You ignored me. We are partners, Moria. I’m watching out for you, as you are watching out for me. I would like you to remember that.”
Shame washed over her. “I’m sor—”
“Don’t be. Just heed me a little, now and then.” A half smile. “If only to make me feel like an equal partner.”
“You are,” she said. “And I do apologize.”
He let her go and leaned against the door, listening. Moria could hear only the thump of the gate. Tyrus motioned her behind him, unlatched the door, and swung it open. She could see the gate now, barricaded by cloth-covered heaps along the bottom. Corpses lining…
They weren’t corpses. They were bags. Of sand or something similar. Tyrus eased closer to the open door for a better look around. From where Moria stood, she could see exactly what she had seen the first time she’d been brought through these gates: a silent town. People had stayed in their shuttered homes then, waiting for their ordeal to end. Yet there had been bandits and mercenaries milling about, keeping the town under control. Now there was no one.
“I want you to watch the nearest homes,” Tyrus said. “Particularly the windows to see if anyone peers out and tries to warn us.”
She nodded. He withdrew his sword and moved through the doorway. Daigo slipped past, and Moria swung out at his side, both daggers drawn.
The gate thumped. The wind whistled past, whirling sand. When Moria heard that wind, she realized she didn’t hear something else.
Spirits? Where are you?
Not even the faintest murmur answered. After four days on the road, she’d grown accustomed to the silence. Now, it chilled her. There ought to be spirits here.
A thump, like the gate only softer, came from the house on her right. She whipped around to face it, but only a window shutter moved. Blame her dark imagination, always seeing the worst.
She motioned to the window. Tyrus hoped the towns-people would warn them, but that had not been her experience on her first visit. They’d been too terrified.
“I am Tyrus Tatsu!” he shouted, startling both her and Daigo. “My father, the emperor, sends me with the Keeper of Edgewood, who bore your master’s message. I come in my father’s name, without guards, to meet with you honorably. The former marshal would not wish his men to hide behind civilians. Come and speak to me.”
No answer.
“All right, then,” he muttered. “I’ll find someone who will speak to me.”
They approached the house where the shutter had moved. It had gone still now, but inside, Moria could hear scuffling, as if the inhabitants sought hiding places. Tyrus rapped at the door and waited only a heartbeat. As he opened it, noise erupted on the other side. A scrabbling. He adjusted his grip on his sword. The door swung open and —
A shape sprang at them with a bloodcurdling yowl. Tyrus’s blade flew up just as Moria caught a glimpse of orange fur and shouted, “No!” It may have been her cry that stopped him. Or he may simply have realized he was about to cleave something much too small to be a human attacker. He caught the creature with the side of his blade, knocking it away. A blur of orange fur as the beast hit the floor, then shot off, hissing, brush-like tail behind it.
“A cat.” Tyrus looked at Daigo as they walked inside. “You could have warned us.”