She raised an eyebrow.
“The Hunter is alive! I swear it!”
“As of now, ” she replied, “the Sacred Servants are mine.”
Somehow, he suppressed the groan. Rizla was destroying his world and there was nothing he could do but nod like an idiot.
“Not only do I want the Hunter alive,” she continued. “I want him in good health. We must not offend the Shautu at this juncture. Oren Whitehair will doubtless mend slowly, but this will give us time to think of a proper appeasement on your part.” She tapped her finger against her lip. Her nails were long, filed to a point. He noticed the large topaz on her little finger. The day he’d tried to buy her from Dr. Sugallus, who was Suga now, she’d worn it on a chain around her neck.
“We must find a few of my Sacred Servants to tend to the Hunter at once.” Elymas blinked at her emphasis, but nodded. “Then, I want to see what you keep in your secret chamber and not through the precious glass.”
She hopped off the dais, landing lightly, walking to the oaken doors with the undulations of a large cat. Elymas limped down the side steps and quietly, obsequiously, followed the sultry woman to his most private chamber in the castle depths.
He’d never been silenced by a woman before and he’d certainly never been led.