Page 61 of The Omega Slave

Damatrious stepped forward and inserted himself in between the guards and Kamir. Not that he needed it, but just at that moment a beaten and bloody Mansala arrived as well. The differences were stark between Mansala and Gabar. Despite what he had clearly endured in the dungeon, Mansala—as always—carried himself with dignity and purpose.

“My lord,” Damatrious said, addressing his father. “His highness has just proved his right to the crown of Rajpur by surviving the cleansing and shifting into his animal. I am a witness and have already withdrawn my claim.” He looked to the imperial guard. “Protect his highness, as is your sworn duty.”

Before Kamir had the chance to even take a breath, the guards surrounded him and Mansala like a protective cloak. But Kamir didn’t want that. He needed to find his bonded, or his soon to be bonded. He felt rather than heard an objection in his mindas clear as if someone had spoken, then the image of the two of them in flames. His dragon couldn’t have spoken more clearly if he had shouted. They were bonded, but he still couldn’t feel Tsaria. He turned to Mansala. “We think the sand people have Tsaria. Whatever else you do, please find him.”

He ignored his uncle’s pathetic protestations and then his attempt to insert himself between Kamir and Damatrious. Damatrious wasn’t having it, and neither was he, and successfully ignored, Gabar was pushed out. Kamir dismissed him.

Barely three bells later Kamir had to accept that neither Tsaria, Elainore, nor any of the sand people were in the palace or the immediate vicinity. Apart from one unit of the imperial guard who refused to leave Kamir’s side, every soldier Damatrious could get his hands on had searched all possible venues within a distance a group of twenty could travel quickly. Kamir had sensed Tsaria’s absence almost right away, and he didn’t understand how they could simply vanish, unless Elainore had managed to throw an illusion up for everyone, but then most of the witnesses had been drugged earlier. He knew she wasn’t as powerful as she was making people think. The soldiers were still knocking on doors and insisting on inspecting every building, but that took time.

Kamir paced.

Then paced some more.

“I want soldiers sent to the endless desert in case they’ve somehow slipped past us.”

“It’s been done, Highness.” Mansala frowned. “But I do not understand how even the swiftest horses could get away that quickly.”

Kamir whirled around. “You think they’re hiding? But isn’t every building being searched?”

“Maybe we shouldn’t be looking in buildings.”

Kamir stared at Tam, who had just walked into the throne room. He caught on instantly. “The sewers?”

“They’ve just vanished,” Tam said.

“But didn’t you say she could create an illusion?” Mansala interrupted.

“But one large enough to hide them all?” Kamir questioned. He sat down on one of the daybeds, not certain how much longer his legs would hold him up. “This makes no sense. She said she was willing to create an illusion of my dragon, and she did so to cover the deaths, possibly including Iskar’s, but in return for land for her people. She must know I wouldn’t simply give her and her people a home here after taking Tsaria.”

“So she must have another motive,” Mansala said carefully.

“Do we have any experts on them?”

Mansala smiled. “Yes, Highness, you.”

Kamir drew in a breath, but his chest hurt. It was true he had included them in the research he had done, including the great sandstorm that was supposedly a punishment from the goddess that had buried what was once a thriving city. “I mean modern ones. Not someone that merely knows their history.” He blinked. “Water, food, trade. They must deal with someone for that. The desert is an inhospitable place.”

“They come to the trade district market, Highness, at the south of the city.”

“Not the Lost Souls?” Kamir asked bitterly.

Tam shook his head. “I’ve never seen them there. The trade district market is nearer the passes to the endless desert, and mostly deals in simple food stuffs and farm animals.”

Frustration at not having knowledge about the kingdom he was supposed to govern flooded Kamir. He should know these things. Why in seven hells had he always buried himself in the library?

Because you never expected to live to rule.

But it was a poor excuse and one Tsaria was suffering for.

“Sire,” the soldier who’d come with Tsaria spoke hesitantly, and Kamir turned to him, ashamed he had pretty much ignored him since Tsaria went missing. He realized he hadn’t even questioned the soldier’s presence or why he was with Tsaria. All he knew was that his dragon was at peace with the soldier, so Kamir had been as well. He was quickly learning to trust his dragon’s instincts.

“Speak freely,” Kamir ordered.

The soldier inclined his head. “My name is Tomas, and I have been working secretly with Draul Eryken and now Princess Veda for the last four summers. I was responsible for getting Tsaria in here, as I have a reputation as a large beast trainer.”

“And they thought you were here to control my dragon,” Kamir surmised, unsurprised Veda or Draul had a hand in this. “Where are they now?”

“Waiting to be summoned if needed, but I knew only I would be able to get Tsaria in here.”

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