Hunter and Fox Read Online Free Page B

that rule. Whenever possible she tried to share the fate of her people, and so carried no weapons while in V'nae Rae. Talyn had few rebellions against her fate, but at least she did not have to carry his weapon when not needed.
    Under the narrow bed was a silver box worked with the Vaerli's flowing letter-magic, pae atuae . The box, like the blade it contained, had been her mother's, so Talyn would never take them into the Caisah's presence. To do so would sully a pure memory of one whom she'd loved.
    Her own magics had been taken like everyone else's at the Harrowing. Not for hundreds of years had the pure sounds of music-magic, maie atuae , passed her lips. She raised one hand to her throat as if she could still feel them there.
    What was the matter with her? A stolen glance across a cobblestone road, and her memories would not lie still.
    Talyn placed the blade within the box, and the letter-magics rang like broken bells when she closed the lid, telling her that the protection spell was activated.
    She washed the dirt of the road off and braided her hair back from her face. He had once said he did not like her unkempt in his presence. Talyn would give him no excuse to withhold the bounty price.
    She walked expressionless down the corridor and four flights of steps to the Caisah's wing. Two swordsmen, most of their faces covered by shining helmets, with shields held at attention, stood guard outside the thick bronze doors. Talyn hardly noticed. As she walked to the door, the guard on the right eased his stance, but the other sprang forward. On closer inspection, she found she did not know his name—so he had to be new.
    He stepped forward. “State your name and business!”
    The older guard tugged on his arm. “It's Talyn, the Caisah's Hunter, you fool,” he hissed.
    The other flinched when Talyn raised her arm, yet when she opened her hand it had no weapon, only the spiraling tattoo that marked all of the warriors of the Caisah's Swoop. It was identification enough; she had no desire to prove her place as Hunter. The Swoop was her master's bodyguard, and though she was never called upon to do their duties, she held high rank in their number. She occasionally even prayed at their temple—though more out of a desire to find a place of peace rather than real belief.
    The newcomer's heartbeat fluttered at his neck, but Talyn had no interest in killing anyone unless it was for her bounty. Still, she wouldn't reassure any of the Caisah's men. Let him think she would come for him out of the shadows one night. Instead she gave him a little smile; the faintest curling of her lips, a slight revelation of teeth.
    â€œYou may pass,” he said, blinking abrupt sweat out of his eyes.
    So Talyn the Dark went into the Caisah's inner sanctum to claim her reward.
    The suite was smaller than many would have thought, the smooth white walls only broken by large murals of different parts of Conhaero: from the Blood Witches' caves, to the waters of the heated south. It was another outrage, for the Vaerli would never have been able to paint their world.
    At the end of the hall the Caisah sat on a simple-enough chair; only the triple-headed serpent carved on its legs marked it apart from others in the room. It was where he held audiences and ruled the world. Talyn's boots echoed on the marble, and the skin between her shoulder blades itched the closer she got, but she did not flinch under his gaze.
    Naturally there were others present: the chamberlain, the Lord of the Purse, Holder of the Keys, the sycophants, and the cortege of mistresses. The Caisah was not like other men except in this one area. His conquests extended not only to this herd of beauties but also to any woman who caught his passing fancy. This moment's queen hen was Kelanim, the First Mistress of his Court. She was glaring at Talyn over her fluttering fan with green eyes that inspired sighing odes from the court talespinners.
    Despite their unparalleled