9. Chapter 9

Chapter nine

Tsaria managed to walk unaided through the long corridors to follow Tam and was surprised when he stopped at a door, as he’d been expecting him to carry on outside the palace gates. “Here?” he rasped as Tam opened the door to see a comfortable sitting area just before a small body hit him so hard, if it hadn’t been for Tam he’d have gone down.

“Jael,” Tam admonished, but his words were drowned out as Jael blurted out that he’d been fed and made to have yet another bath and he had his own bed and had he seen the emir and how long were they going to stay and would he get sent back? Tam thanked the maid for watching Jael and she left.

Tsaria hugged the boy tighter, ignoring the sharp jab of his bruises. Tam chuckled softly. “Let him sit, Jael. You’re gonna smother him.”

Tsaria sat but overwhelmed as he was, it was clear that Jael’s anxiety was on a much higher level. Not that he blamed him. He’d been thrown in jail, watched unspeakable things happen to his mother, and had suffered way more than any child ever should. Tsaria might have been in the same position once, but he was an adult now.

Tsaria opened his arms, and without hesitation, Jael simply climbed on his lap. “He was really worried when you weren’t here when he woke,” Tam confided. “I was coming to find out how you were so he might sleep better.”

Jael looked up at Tsaria. “But I’m staying with you now,” Jael said, half as a question, and Tsaria could feel him trembling.

“Yes,” Tsaria said. “I am assured we would be allowed to remain here, but I need to find a job and we need somewhere to live.”

Tam opened his mouth, but Jael didn’t give him a chance. “I can work. Ma didn’t like it, but Nana Bex said I had to work to get to share Ma’s mattress.”

Tam pressed his lips together, clearly recognizing the name. “Nana Bex?” Tsaria asked, glancing at them both. “Who’s that?”

“She wasn’t my real nan,” Jael explained. “That’s what we all had to call her.” Tsaria glanced at Tam, but he just shook his head slightly. So not now , then, while Jael could hear.

“How old are you?” Tsaria asked. “Did your ma ever have anyone else to help look after you?”

“I haven’t got a da,” Jael said matter-of-factly. “Nana said I was a mistake, and that I should be lucky Ma could work or I’d be in the sewers with the rest of the rats.” He wrinkled his nose, which could either be at the thought of the sewers or from trying to remember. “I think I’m seven summers.”

“Sewers?” Tsaria couldn’t help asking, even though he knew what they were, but an actual working system was only for the palace and other houses of the rich.

“The city has old underground passages, many used for dumping waste,” Tam said quietly. “There are some employed to clear them out, but many are lived in, often by gangs of children.”

Tsaria’s mouth fell open, and for the first time he realized how much of a bubble he’d lived in behind the walls of the pleasure house, and his arms tightened around Jael involuntarily. Jael yawned and Tsaria guessed between his too-skinny body and the shock he had been through that he was exhausted still.

Tam must have noticed because as well as getting Tsaria some wine and some food, he brought a soft blanket so Tsaria could tuck Jael in. It didn’t take long before he was curled up asleep and Tsaria laid him down on the daybed he was sitting on.

Tam got his own drink and sat opposite him, nodding to Jael. “He hasn’t spoken once about his ma, and I think he’s a little older than seven but it’s hard to tell.” Tsaria was at a loss and sipped his wine then coughed because it was much stronger than he was used to.

He put the goblet down. “You seemed like you knew this Nana Bex.”

“She’s one of the main suppliers and runs one of the biggest sewer gangs that I know of,” Tam explained.

“Suppliers?” Tsaria’s stomach sank.

“Mainly children to different whorehouses or special clients, and those with particular tastes. She’s clever. She doesn’t like orphans, prefers the ones that have ties she can exploit. Jael’s ma went out whoring to put a roof over her kid’s head. Jael would eventually have done the same. ‘Go with this man or I’ll throw your ma out.’ It’s emotional blackmail. She starts small. Jael was being taught to lift, I imagine.”

“Purses?” But he knew. He took another sip.

“So, it’s been quite a few days, huh?” Tam said.

A smile curved Tsaria’s lips. Maybe it was shock. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe… “Do you know his highness?”

“Which one?” Tam smirked then laughed. “I sometimes work for Draul, sometimes Attiker, who is the best thing to ever happen to Cadmeera. Raz is excellent as kings go, but Attiker knows the people because he came from them. He’d been arrested when Raz met him, but they’re bonded mates, and they’re doing good things. Attiker has a soldier called Ash that oversees people like me. The ones who can get in and out of places like your palace dungeon. There’s a few of us, all with different talents.”

Tsaria remembered the mouse. “His highness sent you to find me?” He had foolishly hoped Kamir might have.

“Actually, it was her highness, Princess Veda.”

Tsaria gaped for a second time.

“But I don’t think you mean that highness, do you?” Tam prodded knowingly.

“Would Attiker have stood by while children lived in sewers?” Even he heard the resentment in his voice.

Tam was silent for a moment. “I don’t know your highness very well. All I know are my two, but I trust them with my life, and if yours wasn’t worth saving they wouldn’t have bothered.” But the emir wasn’t his . And what if he was just the lesser of two evils? Tsaria had so many doubts. “They worked out an elaborate ruse to empty the palace so we could get you out.”

But for what reason? “How do I know I’m not just here because of the dragon thing?”

Tam shrugged. “I guess you don’t.”

“I don’t even know if it will work a second time.” And he didn’t. They’d touched in the cart, and he didn’t remember the emir growing scales.

Please call me Kamir. But he shouldn’t.

“You don’t have to work everything out now. The emir said you could leave. He had no idea if that meant you’d stay in the palace, or you were going to disappear into the city. Maybe give him a little credit for that?”

But Tam’s loyalties didn’t lie with him, and it could all have been arranged to keep him here. Not that he could go anywhere because he was committed to Jael. He wouldn’t be another person the child lost.

He still didn’t know what to say when there was a knock at the door. Tam frowned and rose. Jael remained dead to the world. Tsaria heard the indrawn breath from Tam as he opened the door, and he gazed at the two men standing at the door. One was the large man he’d seen with the emir, Mansala, and the other the guard he’d seen with the Cadmeeran consort. They both inclined their heads to Tam, who scoffed. “Really, Ash? Takes two of you?” But Tam’s voice was a little breathless, and Tsaria saw the look he sent the bigger man when he glanced at Jael.

Ash scoffed but waved a hand at Mansala. “He needed a guide.” And to be honest Tsaria had to give him that. He had no clue where they were either or if he could find his way back if he left.

Tam stepped back and waved an arm to welcome them in. Tsaria’s first instinct was to run, but he had Jael to think about. The bigger man took a few steps toward him then bowed. “I am Mansala, his highness’s life sentinel.” Tsaria knew what that was. Mansala had vowed to protect the prince with his life when they were both children. Must be nice.

“And?” He knew it was rude, but he didn’t care. Ash grinned and wandered over to the wine.

“You got any beer?”

Tam rolled his eyes. “In the ice chest.” Ash made a sound of approval and headed for the next room. Mansala shook his head when Ash sent an inquiring eyebrow in his direction.

“I shouldn’t be here,” Mansala said in a low voice and Tsaria huffed.

“Well, you know where the door is.”

And then Mansala smiled. It caught him off guard because all Tsaria had seen was grave and protective, and relaxed and humorous didn’t seem to fit. “No wonder he is so enamored.”

It was his turn to scoff. “Look, we all know his highness is only interested because he hopes for a repeat of what happened in the throne room. Which, sorry to disappoint, but I don’t know how to replicate it.”

Mansala inclined his head. “You make a valid point, and I have no idea of how to convince you of anything else, and that isn’t my role. I have known his highness since we were four summers old and—”

“And that’s why he sent you.”

“Actually,” Ash said, coming out of the kitchen with a tankard. “He didn’t. Not that I expect you to believe me, but he was very clear that no one should influence you.”

“And yet you’re both here,” he added, unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice.

“Being the emir is the last thing he wanted,” Mansala said. “His highness is a historian not a warrior, but his freedom to control any decision was dependent on him shifting. His father was weak and easily swayed by his brother. His highness was constantly forgotten and overlooked. So much so that his age of provenance passed with no one realizing he hadn’t shifted. It only became necessary when it was time to take the throne.” Mansala leaned forward. “But please understand that the only reason his highness is willing to ascend the throne is the horrors that would be wrought by his uncle and his progeny on the people of Rajpur.”

He stared at the sentinel. He knew this man would give his life for the emir, and as such he had no reason to believe a word he said either.

And yet.

“Why are you here?” Expecting a repeat of previous assurances, he was shocked when Mansala dipped his head.

“Yes, I am honor bound to surrender my life, but he’s a good man. Despite the cruelties his uncle has wrought, he retains a belief in his people, and while thinking he is the least qualified, he is in my opinion the most morally necessary.” Mansala sighed. “It took much to make him escape, even knowing he faced certain death.”

“Death?” I whispered.

“I’m afraid so,” Mansala said. “Since Kamir would forfeit the throne, once his uncle becomes emir, there is no way he would be allowed to live.”

“And that would happen if he hadn’t shifted?”

“The trouble his uncle had was knowing whether you were the catalyst for the dragon or not.” He held his palm up, “And yes, you would think that that would ensure both your deaths, and I believe if his highness had shifted into a wolf that would have happened. A dragon, however, is a mythical beast and he was scared. He didn’t dare call for his assassination until he knew more. In all the summers I have lived at the palace I have never seen his uncle afraid, but he was that day.”

“Kamir didn’t kill anyone.” Tsaria said, feeling he should point that out.

“I would imagine not,” Mansala said. “He was incapable of even killing an insect as a child. His uncle, however, would want no witnesses.”

Tsaria glanced at Jael, who was still fast asleep, then stood and walked to the end of the room. There were no windows, merely vents that provided air. How was he supposed to believe any of them? He could challenge them to let him go, but what about Jael? Maybe if he was clever they could come to some sort of arrangement?

He could demand many favors if he was responsible for Kamir’s shift. So why did that thought taste bitter, like betrayal? He owed these people nothing, but it made no sense to run away. It actually made sense to talk to the emir, but he didn’t want an audience. Maybe he should push and see where it got him but also be prepared to run if it turned out the emir didn’t need him anymore. He wasn’t so foolish that he didn’t realize that having a pleasure slave as a constant presence would hardly be fitting in palace circles.

And he couldn’t ever forget that. “If I stay, I need somewhere Jael can stay with me.”

Ash glanced at Tam. “Attiker’s getting some rooms ready in the royal wing. Plenty of room for a young ‘un, and I’m thinking he would fit right in with Flynn and Candy.”

“Who are they?” Tsaria asked.

“The king and consort’s adopted son and daughter. Officially it’s Prince Flynn and Princess Candace, but Attiker doesn’t hold much with titles unless he’s forced to.”

Tsaria glanced at Jael. How would he fit in with a prince and princess? “I don’t think—”

Ash chuckled. “They were exactly like Jael before they were adopted. You don’t need to worry about them turning their nose up at Jael.”

He took a breath. “Very well, and perhaps in the morning you could arrange for me to speak to his highness?”

“Or you could come now?” Mansala said.

Which might be better because he didn’t know what to expect and he didn’t want to spend a night worrying. Plus Jael was asleep. The emir could have been faking his demeanor, might still fake it, or if they were all to be believed, he could be sincere in everything he’d said to Tsaria.

And for his peace of mind, Tsaria honestly didn’t know which would be worse.