“You’re implying that the knife I left embedded in his chest was just a little friendly banter between friends?”
“You had to make it look like you were fighting back. You didn’t deliver a death blow, choosing instead not to strike at his heart.”
I feel sick, remembering the twinkling sound of empty shell casings tumbling down the staircase. The smell of acrid smoke hanging in the air from the barrels of the Alameeda mini-Gatling-like mechanized weapons; it mingled with the alpha-male scent of Kyon as my knife first nicked his bony chest plate before it slid around it and into him. “If I’m a spy, as you say, why would I try to warn Haut Manus about the attack last night? I told Ustus Hassek, the head of the Regent’s police, as well.”
“Manus is in a coma and Ustus is conveniently dead,” Minister Telek points out. “There are witnesses who saw you kiss Kyon last night.”
“He kissed me! To him, I’m a possession—he thinks he owns me.”
“Does he?”
“No.” I’m falling fast, faster than I ever expected. “I’m not your enemy! Review the incident of the previous Alameeda attack—”
“I have.”
“So you know then. You know I saw that Alameeda attack before it happened—the one to extract Kyon.”
“That’s not what I saw,” Minister Telek replies. Something horrible is growing in me; it’s an ache in the back of my throat. “You were privy to the Alameedas’ presence—you met with Kyon that evening and you had access to many of Alameeda’s allies at the swank you attended that evening. The Alameeda staged the fake extraction attempt in order to manipulate the Regent, Manus, into believing that a feeble Etharian”—he gestures to me with a look meant to discredit—“possesses foresight.”
I’m in my own dark ages, I think, except in reverse—I can’t prove that I’m a priestess. “I’m not the enemy.”
“But you are. You killed Minister Vallen.” He takes another deep draw on the silver cig-a-like, and the scent of brown sugar envelopes me.
“How could I have done that?” My voice is feeble. “I’ve only just arrived here. I don’t even know what he looks like.”
“You had ample time last night to do it. You convinced Gennet Allairis to help you. He’s in love with you—anyone can see it by watching your kiss in the station. You convinced him to help you. You promised him sanctuary in Alameeda—a promise I doubt that you intended to keep.”
I crush the silky znou petals in my hand. “You’re an amazing storyteller, Minister Telek, but that’s all it is: a story. You don’t even believe it yourself. You know it’s a lie.”
He looks intrigued that I’m calling him on his complete fabrication of facts. His smile is worrisome to me. Setting down his cig-a-like on the table between us, he says, “Minister Vallen’s death I mark as your doing. And you’re going to confess to it.”
My mouth opens in disbelief for a moment as I prepare to defend myself from such a ruthless accusation, but I close it after a moment. Something occurs to me. “You killed Minister Vallen,” I murmur in understanding.
His eyes narrow, as if in affront. “You’re accusing me! No one would believe it! I’m a well-respected officer. I have no motive,” he lies, “whereas you will be implicated in the attempted assassination of the Regent as well. I’ll show everyone that you can no more predict the future than you can save yourself—or the Cavar you seduced. But it won’t come to that, because you’re going to confess to the crime. ”
“I don’t think I’ll be confessing to your crime.”
“My crime? You have the motive—he was your enemy. You were sent by the Alameeda to kill him.”
“Your motive is better, Minister Telek: You killed him for power—a seat on Skye Council—total control over the Declaration of War you signed this morning. How very Machiavellian of you.” His eyes widen. “Oh, you’re surprised I figured out it was you?” I flick my hand at him. “I can’t understand why that would shock you, since I know I didn’t do it and I’m positive that Trey didn’t do it. That. Leaves. You.”
“Had you never returned to Ethar, there would’ve been no need to end Minister Vallen’s life. I mark his death your doing.”
It takes me less than a second to realize he just confessed to killing Minister Vallen. “So you’re going to try to pin it on me anyway by making me look like a spy,” I breathe.