“Did you attempt to have the Morning Star murdered? Something that, given your busy schedule, you might have forgotten to mention to me in passing?”
She craned her neck to see him more clearly. “If I did, I forgot to mention it to myself as well. No. Not that the idea doesn’t have a certain appeal. Why?”
“You know Cut String Mankiller?”
“He’s made quite a name for himself as War Second. Chances are good that he’ll be given command of one of the squadrons. Don’t tell me…”
“Oh, yes.” Flat Stone Pipe had forgotten her nipple, his thoughtful eyes on hers. “Apparently he hid somewhere in the palace. Then, in the middle of the night, he managed to sneak into the living god’s quarters. He bashed the brains out of one of Spotted Wrist’s female cousins, and was about to slit the Morning Star’s throat when Lady Night Shadow Star appeared out of the night, naked and dripping wet, and drove three arrows into Cut String’s chest at the last possible instant.”
Columella frowned. “I’d like to think this is some crazy story someone heard after smoking too many hemp leaves.”
“Unfortunately, I have a source. He tells me it happened just that way.”
“Why hasn’t the Morning Star turned the whole city upside down? You’d think he’d be furious.”
Flat Stone Pipe shifted, gently massaging her breast. “Blue Heron is using the subsequent silence to set her trap. Morning Star himself wants her to quietly find the plotters so he can deal with them.” He paused. “Which is why I thought perhaps…?”
Columella frowned as she settled her hand on his hip and cupped her fingers around his rump. “No. Not that I wouldn’t have tried it given half a chance for success. Do they suspect us?”
“They suspect everyone. My worry, beloved, is that something might link Cut String to you.”
She shook her head absently. “No. There are rumors, however, about Cut String’s uncle and his daughter. Or is it his niece?”
“Not just rumors,” Flat Stone Pipe told her. “My first thought was to dispatch him over the pollution of incest. After Tharon’s transgressions no one would so much as cock an eyebrow. And I would have, had you been involved.”
“No.” She rubbed her chin over the top of his head. “He might have more value alive for the time being.”
“I’ve someone watching him. Should whoever goaded Cut String to act try and contact the uncle again, we’ll grab them for a little chat.”
“What would I do without you?”
“Suffer dissatisfaction under the clumsy fumblings of awkward lovers with no idea of how to coax your body into a frenzy?”
She slapped his round bottom playfully. “I wasn’t thinking about that.”
“Then perhaps you were wondering about your brother?”
“Why, in the name of the Sky Eagle, would I think of him?”
“Because he’s up to something.”
“Oh, really? What now? Some new woman? An angle on Trade?”
“Political, I think.”
“He’d have told me.”
“Then why did he sneak out before dawn, dress like a common Trader, blank his tattoos in brown paint, and skulk through the crowds at the Great Plaza this past midday?”
She shifted to stare into his hard dark eyes. “He did that?”
“He did.” Flat Stone Pipe took a breath. “Do you think it had anything to do with the attempt on the Morning Star? Something he’s pursuing without your knowledge?”
“He’d never dare!”
But he would, and she knew it. She frowned, saying, “He’s never been clever about these things.”
Flat Stone Pipe gave her a reassuring pat. “I’ll keep an eye on him.” He hesitated. “And if he’s managed to get himself into trouble?”
She massaged her forehead with her free hand. “Then I’ll have to deal with him. One way … or another.”
“He’s your brother.”
“It’s my life! The lives of our children!”
His eyes fixed on hers as he nodded. “We’ll do what we have to do.”
“No matter what it costs,” she agreed, images of High Dance’s laughing eyes playing between her souls.
You stupid fool! Please don’t make me kill you.
* * *
Fingers of unease stroked his souls; Fire Cat came awake with a start. The fire had burned low, leaving the great room poorly lit. But in the glow he could make out the furnishings of Night Shadow Star’s palace. The carved likenesses of snakes and raptors along the wall benches had fixed their intent gazes on him. Their shell-inset eyes gleamed red and seemed to have a malicious intensity. Growing anxiety flitted about between Fire Cat’s souls as if on bat wings.