KINGSLAYER

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Once we were free, we would sneak off to the left, which I assumed was more likely an exit. If any soldiers came our way, they would only be knocked unconscious. Years had passed since I met with the King, and I doubted Lorenzo would take kindly to me after I murdered his men only to speak with him. I could only hope Khan followed that sole instruction. If not for the fact that sneaking into impenetrable buildings was a talent of his, I would have decided to leave him here in chains.

My head whipped to the right. Were those footsteps? There was a flicker of a shadow in the threshold.

"Visitors," I hissed to Khan, not wanting to reveal his name if the approacher heard.

He was already moving to join me once again at the opposite wall, hands concealed behind his back, when a new woman strode in. She wore Ition's olive green and silver colors, but there were tassels hanging from the shoulders of her uniform. This woman was of higher rank. Though we were put in somewhat minimum security, I was unsure of what this meant for us.

The woman planted herself before the door, crossing her arms. "Stand before me," she ordered in the Eastern Language. We did as she asked. I nearly snapped at her for staring at me in such a smug way; I was meant to be the giver of that expression, never the receiver.

"I always go through our files, searching for anyone whose description our new offenders may fit," she began, black eyes shifting from me to Khan. "You could be anyone: thieves, assassins, escaped slaves. Street criminals face time behind bars and torture for information. Escaped slaves will be returned their angry masters. And those conspiring against the crown will hang." Her voice dropped. "But if I find that either of you have a bounty on your heads, I will not hesitate to go after your reward money."

Willing myself to be stoic and impassive, I stared her dead in the face. "Is that not an illegal conflict of interest?"

"Having a smart mouth will not do you any favors regarding my decision," she snapped back. "If I find you are as guilty as I suspect you are, I will have you beaten for hours on end, then profit off the information you give me. Do I make myself clear?"

I had to physically push the word out. "Yes."

"Good. Now." Her attention turned to her papers. "I will list off a series of known bounties, and you will answer 'yes' or 'no' depending on the name I say." The woman's expression became even more pinched and vicious, if that was possible. "And do not try to lie. Witch blood runs deep in my ancestry. I will see through your mistruths."

Watching her closely, I tried to discern whether she was lying for the sake of intimidation. But she simply gave me a look of distain, saying, "Lucky for you, there were no files of anyone of your age or appearance, girl." Her gaze landed once again on Khan, who looked as though he was holding himself back from killing her with his bare hands. "But you... There are plenty that could be you."

She held up the first poster, which was clearly ripped from the wall of some bar or tavern. "Nikolas Addington." As soon as I saw the hastily-sketched picture of the aforementioned thief, I knew it could not be Khan. His nose was much thinner and his hair darker than the man in the drawing.

"No."

"Cyran Creighton." She held up another picture.

"No."

As she kept listing off names of various offenders, my gaze dropped to Khan's hands, still hidden behind his back. Except now he clutched the pair of metal cuffs in a white-knuckled hand, without a doubt ready to bludgeon her skull in with them.

"Alexander Khan." While my face remained impassive as always, my heart dropped through my body. The picture she held up was of a boy a bit younger and not so sharp-boned, but it was indeed him.

"No."

The woman smiled. "Lie."

"I'm not him." Khan was eerily calm now, and I feared for his next move.

Stalling for time, my gaze roved the wanted poster, and the fast-pumping blood in my veins chilled. For as long as I knew him, Khan hated me with such sharp passion that it made me half-wonder if we had some sort of former connection. And where did he say his hometown was? Velizovsky. That was on the southern coast, directly where the Oceanic King began a siege on the people of Navrika so great it singlehandedly ruined the nation. But my part in Navrika's downfall was not the primary reason Khan could not stand to be near me, was it?

I did not know how he escaped, but Alexander Khan was a war slave.