"What in the name of the seven flaming pits do you think you're doing?" she hissed, dropping her basket to the ground, only keeping herself from yelling with the knowledge that her neighbours were probably still outside.
Tariq raised his eyebrows as he leaned back against the door, posture casual like he hadn't just blundered right into the middle of her job. "I thought I was saving you from your oh-so-respectable neighbours."
She took a step closer, hands clenching into fists. "You nearly blew my cover! And what am I supposed to do now? I was pretending to have a husband and now they all think that's you! How am I supposed to keep this up when you leave? I can't bring in anyone else now, like I was planning before."
He shrugged. "I planned to stick around. It's obvious we're investigating the same thing, or close enough that sharing information just makes sense. We can help each other out, double our efforts."
Eliska tossed her head and snorted. "What possible reason could I have for sharing information with you?"
"Because I can go where you can't, just like you can go where I can't. Sharing information will give us both a more complete picture of what's really happening. And just in case you're wondering, I've been hired to find a boy taken by slavers, to retrieve him if I can, destroy the slavers if I can't."
She narrowed her eyes. She couldn't deny what she'd heard about the rich man's son being taken, couldn't deny that she was looking into the slavers as well, couldn't deny that they did keep running into each other. They seemed to have similar ideas for how to investigate and it was only a matter of time before they'd find themselves thrown together again.
It might be better to work with him rather than against. It wasn't as if she could ignore him anymore, couldn't pretend she didn't know him. And he'd already run headfirst into her life here and she wouldn't be able to get rid of him for this cover. Starting over would be a waste, and it seemed she'd inevitably just be stuck with him again through her investigation.
Eliska studied him for a moment. He was watching her, eyes steady though she thought there was some kind of emotion hidden behind his eyes. He seemed to be telling the truth, and he hadn't betrayed her identity at the auction when he could have. Still, she wasn't about to trust him blindly.
"Can you swear on your honour, on your life, that you won't tell anyone about anything I tell you in confidence? That you'll protect my secrets completely, that you won't betray me, my work, or harm me in any way?"
Tariq held her eyes with his and nodded. "I swear."
"Good," she said, reaching to her left arm and shoving up her sleeves. It revealed the intricate tattoos wrapped around her forearm. Tariq stared but Eliska didn't give him enough time to say anything, instead running a finger across the third one up from her wrist.
"Taehat!" she said, eyes locked onto Tariq.
The mark flared gold on her arm as the magic coursed through her to take effect. Tariq didn't have a chance to move, to speak, to even breathe before he was enveloped in a flash of golden light.
She had closed her eyes just before it went into effect, keeping herself from being blinded. Tariq hadn't had the forewarning and was cursing now, blinking eyes that had to sting, probably trying to get rid of spots. "What was that?" he demanded, swiping at his tearing eyes.
Eliska shifted her weight to her back leg, one hand on her hip. "You swore you'd keep my secrets. Unfortunately for you, I can't be so trusting as to take people at their word, so I added a bit of insurance against any...mishaps."
Tariq stared at her, eyes clearing. "What did you do?" he whispered.
She smiled and held up her tattooed arm. "Bound you with magic. It's a rather interesting spell and it's one of the reasons I'm one of our top operatives. As long as I choose not to release you from your oath, you can't break it. You will find yourself physically incapable of telling other people my secrets in any way."
His eyes quickly narrowed into a glare, his brows coming sharply together. "Who do you think you are, going around spelling people? What right do you have to take my will away from me?"
Eliska raised her eyebrows, projecting calm confidence. She didn't like the expression on his face and tensed slightly, ready to defend herself if he decided killing her would release the spell. "You swore on your honour and your life. I just made things more official. Or were you planning on betraying me?"
Tariq crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, how do you even know this works? I could just go out now and tell all those neighbours of yours what you just said."
"I know because you're not my first. My work's important enough that I have to be sure of people."
"You don't work for any of the victims or their families, do you?"
She shook her head. "I work for the government."
He grimaced. "Well, that's great. The information I have points to someone in the government being involved, probably someone in the Sultan's family. They can get away with anything."
"That's not possible, I can assure you."
"How do you know? The Sultan and his family keep slaves. Maybe he thought he should just get some for free?"
"No, he doesn't keep slaves."
Tariq snorted. "You can't possibly be that naïve. The Sultan and his family buy slaves all the time."
Now it was Eliska who narrowed her eyes. "Buys them, yes. Keeps them, no. Every slave bought by the Sultan is freed. There are no slaves among his people in the palace, his people are loyal to him of their own free will and serve him by choice."
"Like me?" he asked scathingly.
"That's your own fault for forcing your way into my life. You made that decision and I just had to make it something I could live and work with."
"So what now then?"
Eliska sighed. "I don't really know," she replied, rubbing an arm. "I just kind of ran with this since I didn't have any other options."
"Well, I can go out tomorrow and bring some of my things over here so people don't talk about me being in the same clothing every day at least."
"You don't need clothes here. You can just change at your house."
Tariq gave her a look. "If we're going to keep this fiction alive, I'm going to have to live here."
"Oh, no. No, you're not."
"We don't really have a choice. And I'm not letting you run off without taking this magic off me, so unless you have some miraculous other plan, we're stuck with each other."
Eliska glowered. "Well, you can stay in the men's quarters I suppose," she said grudgingly. "But so help me, you step one foot into the women's quarters and I'll cut you and leave your corpse to the crows."
Tariq nodded. "Fine. Then you stay out of the men's quarters."
"Why in the name of the sky and earth would I want to go into the men's quarters?"
He gave her a sidelong glance. "Seems to me you enjoyed our little kiss and might be looking for more."
She flushed before she glared. "There won't be any more of that, I can assure you. And if you try anything...well, I have more knives on me than most butchers own, so consider this your one and only warning."
Tariq shrugged. After a moment of silence, he said, "Speaking of butchers, can you cook?"
Eliska folded her arms over her chest. "Of course I can."
"Good. The food I make isn't suitable for other people."
"So you're saying you want me to do all the cooking?"
"It'll help sell us as a married couple. Or do you want to destroy this identity already?" He asked, eyebrows up.
"Has anyone told you you're insufferable?"
"Has anyone told you that you're bossy?"
"You wanted to work together," she retorted.
"As partners. I wanted to share information, not be spelled into it. I suppose you have another spell that will force me to do whatever you want?" He asked, voice harsh, fists clenched.
"Don't be ridiculous. Magic doesn't work like that. I don't think you could make a spell like that. The ritual involved...well, if it's anything like the ritual for this spell, I can't imagine anyone being able to complete it."
Tariq frowned, hands relaxing. "How do you set up a spell like that?"
Eliska shook her head as she reached down to scoop up her basket. "That's a secret, and one I'm not telling a stranger. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get this put away," she said, before turning and heading straight into the kitchen without looking back. She was going to need to figure out what to do now, and might as well use the excuse of getting food sorted to do so.