The flame coiled around itself, then leapt off the wick and pirouetted to the floor. Ruha tried to point toward a huge ceramic cask sitting in the corner but, with her hands tied behind her back, she failed miserably. The fire danced across the bricks toward a gleaming copper vat, which caught its light and sent a reddish glint skipping across the ceiling.
Wei Dao’s head cocked slightly.
Ruha bent her finger sharply, directing the flicker toward a black iron caldron. She barely managed to guide the flame behind the pot’s sheltering bulk before Wei Dao turned to scan the ceiling. The witch tongued her gag back into place and waited until her captor’s scrutiny fell on her, then glowered at the princess with a frown that she hoped would look as helpless as it did hateful.
Wei Dao smirked at the witch, then allowed her gaze to roam across the room until it came to the unlit lamp. If she noticed the faint wisps of smoke still rising from the flameless wick, she paid them no attention. The concern vanished from her face, and she turned back to Prince Tang.
“Thisss … dangerous, my husssband.” Wei Dao spoke in Shou, unaware that a wind spell was carrying her voice to Ruha in the Bedine language. Unfortunately, the magic did not work well in the still air of the vault; the words were so breathy and soft that the witch sometimes missed them. “We ssshould … her and be done with it!”
“She ssserve us better alive.” Tang turned the press screw, then glanced at Ruha and allowed his gaze to linger on her naked face for an indecent time, at least by Bedine standards. “We have need of wu-jen.”
“… much trussst in love potion!” Wei Dao pointed a dagger-sharp fingernail at her husband. “Witch use love magic on you, wise husssband.”
Prince Tang shrugged. “It doesss not matter, as long as she love me more. We need wu-jen, and Ruha is wu-jen.”
Wei Dao’s face grew crimson and stormy. The princess was no fool and believed Tang no more than Ruha did; the prince needed the witch’s magic, but he coveted her womanhood.
“How witch love you more?” Wei Dao demanded. “You sssay ylang … not potent.”
“Potent enough for now. When fresssh blossoms arrive, I make better potion.”
Ruha pointed her finger toward the wall behind her. The wayward flame danced from its hiding place and began to skip across the floor.
“You are bad ssson! You risssk mother for—for—” Wei Dao’s sentence sputtered to a halt, and she flung her arm in Ruha’s direction. “You risssk mother’s life for barbarian concubine!”
There was that word again, concubine. Ruha ground her teeth into her gag, biting down until her jaws ached. She did not leave the golden sands of Anauroch to become a prince’s bauble; if the Shou thought differently, she would show them barbarian.
“Not for concubine, for wu-jen.” Tang’s head started to turn in Ruha’s direction, and she barely managed to guide her dancing flame beneath a brazier before his lecherous gaze fell on her face again. “And risk is mossst sssmall.”
Wei Dao shook her head violently. “Already … over the wall!”
Whatever the princess said to the prince, it drew his attention away from Ruha. The witch gestured with her finger, and the lamp flame darted from its hiding place.
“What you think he tell … Hawklyn?” Wei Dao demanded. “What you think witch say if ssshe essscape, too?”
Ruha forgot about her dancing flame. Fowler had escaped! She doubted the half-orc could report anything useful to Vaerana, but at least the witch would not have to add his death to her already overburdened conscience. She circled her finger, guiding the lamp flame, which had curled toward her captors, back toward her.
Prince Tang scowled at his wife. “Why do you not tell me sssooner?”
“You at work in lizard park, leaving me to chase ssspies!” Wei Dao countered. “Perhapsss wise prince ssshould …”
Whatever the princess said, it angered her husband greatly. Tang raised his fist; then, when Wei Dao did not flinch, he turned away and swept a shelf clean of several porcelain jars. They shattered on the floor, releasing a cloud of fine, multihued powders. The prince let his chin drop and stared into the billowing dusts, his eyes focused someplace far beneath the bricks.
The lamp flame reached Ruha’s side. She beckoned it around behind her, scorching her insteps as she guided it between her sandaled feet. Soon, the witch felt a tongue of fire licking at her fingers; then she caught a whiff of burning hemp. She began to move the flame back and forth, never allowing it to rest beneath her bindings for more than a second at a time. The syrupy perfume of minced ylang blossoms still hung in the air, but not so heavily that she dared let the acrid fumes of a rope fire spread through the chamber.
When Prince Tang finally raised his head, he had regained the characteristic composure of the Shou. “What can half-man tell Vaerana Hawklyn?”
Wei Dao lowered her eyes. “It isss impossible to sssay. Guards do not sssee him leave Cinnamon House during night, but neither do they sssee witch go—and we find her in apartment of Lady Feng.”
“Then we assume most wretched prossspect.” The prince took a copper beaker from a shelf and held it beneath the drainage spout of the oil press, then opened the valve. The sound of trickling fluid echoed through the vault, and the tangy smell of the ylang blossoms grew overwhelming in its cloying sweetness. “Perhapsss half-man report mother’s abduction, but that isss crime of Cypress, not Ginger Palace.”
“Vaerana Hawklyn … woman,” Wei Dao observed. “She know we do anything to ransssom mother!”
“But she doesss not realize we must.” Tang did not look up as he spoke. “It is no sssecret that Lady Feng hasss won favor of Yen-Wang-Yeh. Ssso, when Vaerana Hawklyn hear of worthy mother’s abduction, what doesss she think?”
Wei Dao furrowed her carefully plucked eyebrows. “That Cypress needsss Venerable Scholar of Eighteen Hells to sssteal spirit of Yanseldara, of courssse.”
Ruha nearly howled as the lamp flame scorched her knuckles, for she had been listening so intently to her captors’ conversation that she had neglected the tiny fire. Having deduced already that Lady Feng had been abducted for the purpose of stealing Yanseldara’s spirit, the witch found it less surprising that the Shou would cooperate with the kidnappers than that they seemed to think Cypress remained in good health. She moved the lamp flame a safe distance behind her and resumed eavesdropping.
“… more.” Prince Tang closed the drain valve and carried his copper beaker to a marble-topped table. “Vaerana Hawklyn hasss no reason to think Cypress requires more from usss to complete ssspell.”
A sly smile crept across Wei Dao’s painted lips. “Ssso she is looking wrong way at aussspicious time. Perhaps it is good … essscaped, wise husband.” The princess cast a spiteful glare in Ruha’s direction. “Now only witch threaten sssafe return of worthy mother.”