Khrillin dismissed her spluttering objections with a wave. “If you cannot pay, perhaps Brik can find a use for you.”
“Please, sire, I’ll do anything—”
“Brik? Today, if you please.”
The thug drew in a wet, pleased breath in Tamri’s ear. Then he hoisted her off her feet and pulled her against his sweaty chest. Not pausing to think, Tamri twisted and sank her teeth deep into his hand.
Brik dropped her with a curse. Spitting out the taste of his foul skin, Tamri reached for the Watermight the Waterworkers had been showing off in the corner. The silver power shot toward her from three different hands. She formed it into a whip and lashed it at the nearest door, sending guards diving out of the way.
She yanked the door open with the whip of power and made it four steps before a silver net closed over her and scooped her into the air.
Tamri flailed wildly, knowing it was useless but unable to stop fighting. Fear and desperation convulsed through her as she tried to untangle her limbs from the icy web cutting into her skin. But it was no use. King Khrillin himself had cast the Watermight net—and Tamri’s crude ability was no match for his.
No one else had moved as fast as Khrillin and Tamri. The Waterworkers were gaping stupidly at her, and Brik was examining his bleeding hand in irate disbelief. The Vertigonian dragon rider leaned down to whisper to the young woman at the table, watching Tamri with a concerned expression. She bared her teeth at him. It was a little too late for polite concern.
Khrillin drew Tamri back toward him in the net, holding her suspended a few feet off the floor. A silver-white film coated his eyes, not quite hiding the rage burning in his gaze. Tamri’s body went cold with dread.
“That was unwise,” Khrillin said softly. “Very unwise.”
It wasn’t just anger in the king’s eyes, Tamri realized. Color suffused his cheeks, and he’d turned slightly away from the strangers. He was embarrassed. Her reckless bid for freedom had shamed him in front of his guests. In that moment, Tamri was certain she wouldn’t leave this room alive.
Khrillin’s voice took on a nasty tone at odds with his earlier grandeur. “You’ve just earned yourself a punishment worse than even Brik can dream up.”
Tamri stiffened, waiting for the first blow.
“Pardon me, Your Majesty,” a bright female voice interrupted. “May I have a word?”
Irritation flickered across Khrillin’s face for an instant. Then he smoothed his features and turned as the young foreign woman rose from the table and advanced toward him with an energetic stride. She was dressed for travel in trousers and a fine gray coat with discreet yellow flowers embroidered along the lapels.
“I am sorry you had to witness this, my dear Princess Selivia,” Khrillin began magnanimously. “I assure you I will dispatch this uncouth—”
“Please don’t,” the girl said quickly. She blushed and put on a winning smile. “Forgive me for interrupting, King Khrillin, but I believe this girl took our Cindral dragon for a ride after we had already purchased the Watermight it was carrying. That’s right, isn’t it, Heath?”
“Yes, Princess,” said the bronze-haired Vertigonian promptly. “The dragon had already left the vent in the Jewel District.”
The girl—the princess?—smiled. “In that case, she was really stealing from me not you, wouldn’t you say, King Khrillin?”
The king blinked. “You could certainly make that argument.”
“Well, then couldn’t you let me determine her punishment?” The princess glanced at Brik, her smile slipping. “I would appreciate it ever so much.”
The Watermight net pulsed tighter around Tamri’s body, a reflex from its wielder. Khrillin wasn’t happy about this development. Even so, Tamri felt a surge of hope. Whether the foreign princess realized she was on shaky ground or not, she wasn’t backing down.
Khrillin took a deep calming breath then smoothed his beard and showed his teeth in something like a smile.
“What do you suggest, Princess?”
The young woman tucked a lock of dark, wavy hair behind her ear. “My sister-in-law, Dara, has recently begun a school in Vertigon to train young Wielders in the use of the magical substances, especially our Fire and your Watermight. I think this girl would be a magnificent pupil.” The princess smiled at Tamri, who still hung awkwardly from the silver net. “I’ve never seen someone Wield so fast, and Heath here tells me she made a Watermight cord strong enough to hold a Cindral dragon.”
Khrillin’s face remained stony. “So the punishment would be . . .?”
“Oh.” The princess blushed. “She’d have to live in Vertigon and work for us for a few years, but hopefully that’s not overly harsh.”
Khrillin didn’t answer for several moments. Tamri had been watching the princess in mute incredulity, but she craned her neck in time to catch a calculating glint in Khrillin’s eyes.
“I was under the impression Queen Dara only takes younger children,” he said at last, a hint of suspicion in his voice. “Those who haven’t yet become adapted to the use of a single magical substance.”
The princess turned to Tamri. “How old are you?”
“Seventeen.” She realized a beat too late that she probably should have lied. She was small for her age thanks to a lifetime of meager eating and could pass for younger. Khrillin would know the truth, though. Besides, she was having trouble believing any of this was really happening.
“I think Dara—the queen—would find it interesting to work with a slightly older student,” the Vertigonian princess said. “She herself was nearly nineteen the first time she used Watermight.”
“I remember it well,” Khrillin said flatly.
An unpleasant current of tension flowed between the princess and the king. He wore an expression that would have made Tamri dive for cover if she weren’t still ensnared in the Watermight net. The princess gave him a sunny smile in return, but she was fiddling with the embroidery on her coat, the quick movements of her long fingers betraying her nerves. The air seemed to drain from the windowless space.
Tamri tugged experimentally at the Watermight net, attempting to siphon off enough power to break free while the king was distracted. It was no use. Khrillin was far too strong.
As she shifted against the net, she caught a glimpse of the dragon rider’s face. Heath, was it? He was watching the exchange with a stiff-jawed expression, his hand resting on the glowing cudgel at his belt. Tamri was pretty sure he was seconds away from leaping to the princess’s defense.
But the young woman seemed determined to batter through the tension with her smile, and apparently Khrillin wasn’t willing to risk his lucrative arrangement with her homeland for Tamri’s sake. Tamri had heard he arranged the Watermight sales deal with Vertigon’s King Siv and his mysterious Fire Queen personally.
At last, he inclined his head. “I don’t wish to deny you anything, my dear Selivia. You may take the little urchin back to Vertigon with you, if you think she’ll please the Fire Queen.”
The princess relaxed a hair. Heath did not.
“It’s settled, then,” the princess said. “We’ll depart tomorrow morning.” She glanced at Tamri, her freckled nose wrinkling. “Do let her down. That looks terribly uncomfortable.”