saw the treasure as my salvation. For years I searched and dug and questioned. I had to be very careful not to let the priests know what I was doing. In time they began to think me cowed and submissive to their every whim. I was even permitted to go alone about the city. Then I found a clue. Two weeks before his death, Selket had visited his uncle, who was a scribe in the halls of the Great Library.”
“Library?”
“A place where thousands of scrolls and documents were kept. Scholars and scribes came from all over the world to work and visit the library. I learned Selket’s uncle was dead, but there might still be something to point the way. He was a scribe-perhaps he’d written something on one of the scrolls. But the library was not a place a woman could go without suspicion, and there were thousands and thousands of scrolls. I had to find someone to help me. I watched and studied the people who worked in the library and finally chose a scribe who seemed more approachable than some. He had lived within the walls of the library most of his life, and his work was his only passion.” She smiled. “His name was Tarik.”
“Tarik was a scribe?” It was not really such a surprising thought when she remembered the expression on his face when he had shown them the manuscript. “Go on.”
Layla shook her head. “I believe I’ve told you enough for the moment. Far more than Tarik would like. He always counseled caution. Besides, you’re almost ready to swoon from weariness. It’s time to go to sleep.”
“No, I want to hear-”
Layla was on her feet and heading for the door.
“Wait. Don’t you go one more step until you tell me what plans Tarik has for Kadar.”
“Oh, he wishes him to guard the grail.” The answer was offhand.
“That is all?”
“I assure you it’s more than enough to cause him many problems.” She opened the door. “We’ll have to share the bed. Finish your wine and get to bed while I go down and make sure your Haroun has been fed and provided with bedding.”
“I can do-”
Selene stopped as the door slammed behind Layla. It was clear the woman would brook no arguments. Well, perhaps she was right. Selene was tired and her head was buzzing from the events and revelations of the day.
But she didn’t want to go to bed. She wanted to hear more. She had been touched and horrified by Layla’s story. Her own time at Nicholas’s had been terrible, but to live in a House of Death… She could see why the woman seemed hard and self-willed. It was a wonder Layla had managed to survive and keep from going mad in such a place.
She was making excuses to pardon Layla, Selene realized with astonishment. The woman was volatile, reckless, and probably as hard as stone. Selene should be wary of being in the same room with her, and tonight they were going to occupy the same bed. Why wasn’t she more cautious?
Because she sensed that Layla had a streak of vulnerability beneath that hard surface.
Perhaps she and Layla possessed similar qualities. Selene, too, disliked anyone seeing too deep and wanted things her own way. Well, one of those things was making sure Kadar was safe, and she couldn’t do that unless she knew where the danger lay. Tomorrow she would make sure that Layla told her more.
She finished her wine and set the goblet on the table before stripping off her clothing and climbing into bed.
Where was Kadar now?
Aching loneliness washed over her. It was unreasonable to feel this pain. Was she going to be this idiotic all the days of her life?
Oh, Lord, she was afraid she was.
Selene was deeply asleep, sprawled over the bed like a weary child.
Layla shook her head ruefully as she gazed down at her. She couldn’t possibly get in the bed without waking her, and she wasn’t willing to do that. Selene needed sleep this night.
Oh, well, Layla had slept in chairs many times before. She dropped into the chair in front of the fire. She grimaced as she reached for her goblet. This chair had no cushions and was more uncomfortable than most.
Stop whining. She would probably not have slept much anyway.
Her gaze wandered from the fire back to Selene. So much pain. So much passion. She could see why Tarik had been torn. He must have become very involved with Kadar and Selene during these last weeks.
Don’t worry, Tarik. I won’t fail you.
Poor Tarik. Was it weariness or discouragement that was pushing him toward her? It didn’t matter.
She didn’t care about anything. As long as he came back to her.
Her eyes closed tightly as waves of memory washed over her.
____________________
She should not have let the memory return. The agony was too intense. It was as if she were living it over again. How many times during the past years had she smothered the thought of that scene and closed that part of her?
But now it might be all right to remember. There were signs he was yielding at last.
He had sent her Selene.
She was dreadfully ill, Selene realized even before she opened her eyes.
She barely made it to the basin across the room before she started to throw up.
“What’s wrong?”
Someone was behind her. Layla.
“Answer me.”
Dear God, couldn’t the stupid woman see she couldn’t answer her?
Layla was beside her, her arm bracing Selene’s shoulders while she heaved. “It’s all right-I think.”
“It’s not all right. I’m dying.” Her stomach was empty but she was still miserable. She staggered back to the bed and crawled beneath the covers. “Go away.”
“You’re not dying.” Layla was standing by the bed. “I won’t have it.”
She opened her eyes to see Layla frowning down at her. “Go away.”
“You’re not being reasonable. If you’re truly ill, I’m the only one here who can help you. Now be silent while I decide what course to take.”
Selene was too sick to argue. She shut her eyes, trying to fight off the new surge of nausea that was overwhelming her.
Cold water was running down her face and onto the covers.
She gasped, and her eyes flew open to see Layla wielding a sopping-wet cloth with vigorous authority. “You’re drowning me.”
