“Your Serene Highness, may I present the High Lord Talvéan,” Lya said, her eyes cast deferentially low.

“Hukm, Maharaja,” Dark said in perfect Pradeshi, with a regal nod. “It’s good of you to receive me.”

They exchanged pleasantries while Kett took note of as many details about the room as she could. The dozen or so kelfs. The tall doors, guarded not by kelfs but by men with curved swords. The high windows, letting in shafts of light in which dust motes danced. The handmaidens swarming around the princess.

She couldn’t see Albhar anywhere.

“And who is this charming young woman?” asked the Maharaja.

Kett kept her eyes averted as Dark drew her forward. In truth she wanted to laugh, because here was an immensely powerful, sexual, magnetic man with his arm around her bare waist, and his touch felt about as enjoyable as a pelvic exam.

“She is,” Dark paused for exactly the right length of time, “a very dear friend of mine.”

The Maharaja’s smile widened. “I see,” he said. “Well, you must be in need of rest and refreshment after your journey. Please, follow the kelfs to the guest quarters.”

Every inch of the palace interior was as embellished as the outside. By the time they shut the door on the giant guest suite, Kett was starting to feel dizzy from the mad, bright patterns. The suite was just as heavily decorated, with large open windows and a monkey on a perch. It screeched when it saw them, and Kett frowned at it.

“That went well,” Lya said, giving Kett a look. “‘Very dear friend’.”

“Shut up. How the hell did Chance wear this stuff all the time when she was a courtesan?” Kett asked, hitching up the low bodice of her outfit.

“She didn’t wear it for long,” Dark said, in a tone that didn’t invite discussion. “Do you think you can track this Albhar?”

“Dunno, but I can,” said Bael, materializing behind them. The monkey scampered onto his shoulder and Kett realized it was Var. “He has plenty of pet monkeys. I can find Albhar, change into something bigger and fly him out.”

“No,” Kett said. “If it was that simple, we’d have flown in and wouldn’t have had to piss about with costumes.”

“I like your costume,” he said, with a look that reminded her how much he’d liked it earlier.

Kett felt her cheeks burn but went on, “He has guards on the roof. That’s why Lya is going with you-and taking this.” She pointed down.

They all looked at the carpet.

“To roll him up in and carry him out,” Kett explained. “Can Var be a donkey?”

“I’ve repeatedly been told so,” Bael said, straight-faced.

“Funny. We’ll meet you back at the-”

The doors to the suite suddenly flew open, and all four of them whirled around.

“My dear boy!” Albhar cried. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

His eyes said otherwise. As did the contingent of armed men behind him.

“Albhar,” Bael said, smiling just as easily as his former mentor. “Good to see you. That dragon dragged me away when it took the shapeshifter.”

“Did it?” Albhar asked, without quite enough sympathy on his face. “And where is the shapeshifter now?”

Kett realized she was still wearing her disguise. “A shapeshifter!” she squeaked. “How exciting!”

Albhar cast her an irritated look. “It’s very dangerous,” he said. “It killed-”

“No one,” Bael said softly, and Albhar’s attention whipped back to him.

“Ah. I know you don’t believe me, but-”

“That’s because it’s not true,” Bael said.

“Your father believed a kelf-”

“Didn’t kill her. She died in her own stupid ritual. The same stupid ritual you’ve been researching for so many years.”

There was a dreadful silence.

“First rule of lying, Albhar. You get your story straight.”

“Bael-” Albhar began, but then stopped.

“No, please.” Bael glanced at Kett before turning back to the old man. “Explain.”

Albhar looked at him, and then at Kett. He raised his hands and let them drop in a gesture of failure.

“What can I say?” he asked. “I wanted the power.”

“You knew it would kill me.”

“You stupid boy,” Albhar sneered. “Did you ever believe I cared for you?”

Var suddenly leapt from Bael’s shoulder, changing fluidly in mid-flight to a tiger, heavy and lethal. His weight shoved Albhar to the ground, snarling and clawing, his huge jaws ripping at the old man’s throat.

The half-dozen armed men with Albhar all turned to shoot at Var.

Lya threw herself on the tiger’s back.

Kett ripped her skirts open and snatched her knife from its sheath, wishing to hell she’d been able to carry a bigger weapon. With her other hand she grabbed her scryer from its hiding place under the skirt’s embellished layers, and while she lunged forward to stab one of the men who was even at that moment loosing an arrow at Var, she tried to focus her mind on calling Darson.

Bael let out a bellow and turned on the soldiers with a sword that had come out of nowhere. Kett slashed at the arm of the man nearest to her, making him falter in his aim. Another cut to the wrist made him drop his bow, and then she stabbed under his ribs, pushing the knife in as far as it would go.

Lya’s body covered as much of Var as it could, and her kelfish skin was impervious to the arrows raining on her from such a short distance. But she couldn’t cover all of the tiger and the soldiers were beginning to discard their bows for short swords, slashing and stabbing at Var through his thick fur.

“Kett?” shouted a voice from the scryer in her hand. She’d gotten through.

“Now,” Kett said. “Send them now!”

She yanked her knife back, shoving at the dying man with her foot and thrusting her scryer into her bodice so her hand was free to grab his sword as he fell. Whirling on the next man, she cut him across the chest. None of the men were properly armored, and the sword cut through his clothing enough to leave a line of blood. The man turned on her, but she used the momentum of her swing to whirl and slam the sword into his head.

But not before he’d yelled, “Guards! We’re under attack! Gua-”

His head split open, spraying blood, and Kett twirled to the next man.

But there were no more. The other four men lay on the floor in various states of dismemberment, Bael and Dark standing over them, breathing hard. Bael stepped forward in the sudden silence and picked up Lya, whose eyes were closed tight.

“Are you all right?” he asked, and she opened her eyes, nodding. They both looked down at Var, whose striped fur was dark with blood. Lya’s body had shielded him from a lot of blows, but not all of them.

“Is he?” asked Kett.

“He’s okay. Nothing serious.” Bael set Lya on her feet and knelt by his twin, placing his hand on the tiger’s back. “Tigers have incredibly thick fur, helps repel blades.”

“I know,” she said, and he smiled at her. She smiled back, tremendously relieved he was all right. The fight had only lasted a minute or two. How could she possibly have been worried enough to call for backup?

Var got to his feet, leaving behind the bloody, mauled mess that had once been Albhar. The tiger’s legs, belly and face were smeared with the old man’s blood, and Bael regarded it with his jaw tight.

There was silence for a long moment.

“We should go,” Dark said, and they all nodded, moving toward the huge windows and the little courtyard beyond. Kett was already working out the best escape routes in her head. Take to the skies? She and Bael could each carry a passenger, but she was fairly sure the Maharaja had snipers on his rooftop, alive to the possibility of an aerial invasion.

Maybe if she and Bael disguised themselves again, they could just walk out. No; someone would check their quarters long before they got to the outside wall. And they were all sprayed with blood.

Maybe-

“My gods!” cried someone from outside the guest quarters, and without even sharing a glance, the four of them, plus Var, broke into a run, through the windows and toward the archway at one side of the courtyard. “After them!”