Page 35 of Never the Roses

He waited. She gazed back at him, adding nothing more. “I don’t understand,” he finally said, even though the admission struck him as unwise, as potentially playing into her hands.

“Neither do I,” she replied, as if confiding a secret.

This was going nothing like he’d expected. Neither of them moved; only the twitching tip of Moriah’s tail disturbed the tableau. A droplet of drool fell from Bunny’s fang. Behind Oneira, a spring garden blossomed, incongruously pretty, flowers bobbing in the sea breeze. Absently, habitually, he counted the varieties, naming them to himself, placing a mental pin on the ones he didn’t know. “Give me my books, thief,” he said on a sigh, “and I won’t kill you.”

She cocked her head, mischief in her gaze. “Oh, Em. You with your threats. If you’re so certain you can kill me, why not do it and take all of my books? Instead, you stand here chatting in my garden, your hands aflame and unused.”

Why not, indeed?Because he didn’t want to kill her, much as he was supposed to want that. That was the bald truth of it, along with how he now felt vaguely foolish with his fireballs prepped. If he reported back to His Majesty that he’d destroyed the sorceress Oneira, he’d be greatly rewarded. Not enough to ensure his freedom, however, as the king would never allow that. The thought gave him pause, making him want to kill Oneira even less. In fact, electing not to do so would thwart His Majesty in a way Stearanos found deeply appealing.

Not to mention that Oneira was the most fascinating—and alluring—person he’d met in a long time, possibly ever, and he didn’t want her gone from the world. Of course, saying so would put the ultimate weapon in her hands, if this truly was an elaborate trap. Still, her use of the impudent nickname she’d devised struck him as strangely welcome, giving him a feeling of…

He shook away that thought. All, no doubt, part of her plan to make him lose his mind. “Because I want to know your purpose in stealing from me,” he answered, reminding himself of his own plan in coming here, not just to put an end to her spying, but to discern her agenda.

“My purpose should be abundantly clear. I wanted your books.”

“That can’t be the only reason!” he exploded, losing his own fiery temper in the face of her cold composure, the fireballs on his fists sending sparks in his agitation.

“Can’t it?” she asked, tracking the trail of sparks with idle interest, completely uncowed.

Oh, this was a trap, for sure. No one could possibly be this disingenuous, especially not Oneira Dreamthief, Destroyer of Kingdoms. “Who are you working for?” he demanded, abandoning strategy in his frustration and taking another step closer to her, raising his hands in implicit threat.

Thescáthcú—who could not possibly be named Bunny—growled, and Oneira petted his big head, murmuring something to the wolf that Stearanos couldn’t hear, even close as he was. She raised her gaze to his, the crimson lashes fringing those unusual silvery eyes like fire around a frozen lake, cool and calm, not at all concerned with his threats. If he hadn’t known she was a powerful oneiromancer, he’d have recognized her as one in that moment. She possessed a dreamy quality to her, a quirky restfulness that belonged to a realm beyond their reality.

“I work for no one,Eminence,” she answered, stressing his title along with its significance, that hedidwork for someone, for a king who could not be denied. “I have retired. Perhaps the news hasn’t made it to your part of the world, though it was some time ago.”

“Oh, we heard,” he retorted with a scoff. No sense allowing her to think their reconnaissance was inadequate, although His Majesty’s spies had apparently been well behind on the news. “No one believes it.”

“No?” She glanced about, the white walls of her house rising behind her, the colorful garden ringing it. “I should think you would believe now, having seen with your own eyes. I am not at court. I live here alone, minding my own business.”

“I don’t live at court either,” he shot back, “as you well know, and that proves nothing.”

“True,” she allowed on a sigh. “And you’re hip-deep in it all, aren’t you? Planning a conquest of the Southern Lands for your king.”

“Aha!” He stabbed a finger at her, the fireball flaring into a crackling aura. She still didn’t flinch, even when sparks flew her way. “How did you knowthat,” he continued, “ifyouare no longer in service to your queen?”

She gave him a pitying look. “I saw your research, Stormbreaker. Books piled high, all on the same topic. You must have wanted me to, or you wouldn’t have left them out for me to see. You’re otherwise soorganized.”

She spoke the last word with such a taunting lilt that he knew she meant to poke him about his somewhat obsessive tendency toward neatness. Well, he would not be provoked. “So that was your purpose in my library, to spy on me.”

“No. I don’t care what you or your king does.” She met his gaze calmly, no artifice in the calm lakes of silver. “I don’t care what the queen does. She is not mine and, more importantly, I am not hers. I’ve washed my hands of it all. I’m done with war.” Her voice resonated with deep conviction. He almost believed her.

“Then why invade my library?”

“I was… curious.” She said the final word ruefully, gazing out at some distant point, then meeting his eyes again with a click, that glint of amusement flickering in them. “Just like you are.”

Thoroughly taken aback, feeling caught out and acutely vulnerable, he searched for a reply that would be more intelligent than “nuh uh.”

“Eminence Stearanos,” she said, almost gently, “if you were truly bent on killing me, you would have done so immediately. Instead you’ve engaged in verbal fencing with me.”

“I’ve been assessing your strengths and weaknesses.”

She actually laughed, a harsh, scornful, scoffing sound, one that made her sound as old as he’d expected her to be, and far more bitter. “Oh, please. You knew everything about my strengths and weaknesses already, Stormbreaker. Just as I know everything about yours. Don’t pretend that you haven’t been prepared to fight me your entire career, just as I’ve been thoroughly educated in how to defeat you. We’ve been held at each other’s throats, a dual-sided dagger that would assure mutual destruction. You knew exactly how to hammer through my wards, and to arrive at the time of day when the Dream would be weakest. The only reason you’ve been standing here chatting with me is because it’s the most fun you’ve had in forever. The same reason you exchanged notes withme when I was only your mysterious thief.” She smiled briefly, then sobered. “I see through you, Stearanos.”

He opened his mouth to counter. Came up with nothing. So much for her habit of silence. He almost preferred that to her scathing insights. “If you’re so certain I won’t kill you, why haven’t you tried to kill me? I broke your wards and invaded your home.” He held up the fireballs. “Threatened you.”

“I told you,” she answered, a bit wearily. “I’m done with all of that.”

“You wouldn’t even defend yourself?” he asked incredulously.

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