Read The Sapphire Flute: Book 1 of The Wolfchild Saga Page 16
CHAPTER TEN
C’Tan waved her hand to banish the mirror, as she did every morning, and pulled her scarlet robe closed, gathering illusion around her face, creating the image, the memory of the past that walked with her each day. She hated the falseness of it, longed for the image to be made real again and to be free, but that could not be as long as she was bound to her master, chained to S’Kotos. Only the keystones could free her, and the blasted things could not be found. It infuriated her endlessly, day after day, and all she could do was continue the search that maddened her with its slowness.
She heard the steady step of the aged one long before he appeared at her door. She kept her back to him and made him wait. It was a game they had played since first she met him, when he had been the teacher and she the slave. But the roles had reversed, and she had come to live for these dangerous battles for power and position.
“You’re early, Kardon,” she snarled.
“I am well aware of that, mistress, but I thought you would be most anxious for my report.” He stopped speaking and waited for her to respond. And so the game continued, with her issuing threats and commands, him responding with as little information as possible. Someday she would make him angry, she was sure of it, and fireworks would erupt between them, the kind of fireworks she would be lucky to survive. Until then, they continued the game.
“Report then, Kardon.”
“One of the keystones has manifested itself.”
That was enough to make C’Tan turn quickly and face him. “Which one?” she demanded.
“The Sapphire Flute, my lady.”
Her lips parted as a slow smile spread across her face. Though any other person would have been chilled to see how the smile never reached her eyes, Kardon would not flinch. Why should he, when he was the one who had taught her the coldness, had stolen her conscience, turned her into the monster she knew she had become? It sickened her, and yet she could not be anything else.
“Well, well, well. That is news worth hearing indeed.” C’Tan strutted to the unmade mess of her bed and stood staring at the blank wall for several seconds. “Is it with the king?” she asked, her back to the menace of Kardon. She knew she tempted him, but she could not help herself. Part of her wished he would someday attack and they could finally battle out the hate between them—but today was not that day.
“No, mistress,” he responded in a clipped whisper. “We have yet to determine who has it, but it is within the borders of Peldane.“
“Anything more specific than that?” she asked, becoming annoyed. This was too important for him to hold back. The flute was the first of the stones that could set her free.
“There are rumors, my lady, but we have been unable to verify them.”
She turned then and nearly thrust her power at him, but stopped herself. No. It was not the right time. She still had need of this weak man with his dangerous games, but the anger made her voice tight. “Well, verify them or find me a source for the manifestations, but do not come back until you can tell me who has that flute!” she spat, menace dripping from her voice like acid.
“Yes, mistress,” he answered, unruffled, and turned to leave.
C’Tan stopped him with his name. “Kardon,” she called sweetly and waved her hand, pulling a small knife from the air and cleaning her nails with a soft scratch. “The next time you interrupt me in the early hours like this, I’ll have your heart on a plate and serve it up to S’Kotos. Do you understand me?”
Kardon met her eyes, but did not blanch under their fiery gaze.