Poison Tree

“How did he nd out I was there?” The fact that she had gone after Maya had been one of the crimes he had thrown at her when accusing her of defiance.

Christian shrugged. “I don’t know. Information gets around, and gets to Kral, in more ways than we can even imagine.”

Very true.

“Such as the fact that Alysia dropped by,” Sarik said, “just a few hours before I called.”

“That’s something I still don’t understand,” Christian said. “Why did you come to Onyx with her? I’m sure you knew your father wasn’t likely to be around at that hour, and you were careful to stay where I couldn’t see you, but even with all your camou age, you risked a lot. You can’t tell me you couldn’t talk your way out of being there.”

“I needed to know if Alysia wanted to kidnap me,” she answered vaguely. She could tell that Christian wasn’t going to let the subject drop, so she explained, “I knew she was a third-level member of Onyx, not to mention Frost and Crimson. She wasn’t dedicated enough to SingleEarth to throw out her weapons, and Crimson especially is known for doing long undercover jobs. If she was there for me, going with her to Onyx seemed the best way to get her to show her stripes where no one else from SingleEarth would get hurt.”

“Also the best way to get you noticed and hauled back home.”

She laughed. “Sure,” she said sarcastically. “I don’t care how good Alysia is. I’m three hundred pounds in my tiger form, with the claws and teeth to match. If she had made a grab for me or pulled a weapon, I would have been gone before she made another move.

She even let me drive. If it hadn’t been for your obsession with her, everyone at Onyx would have told SingleEarth to screw themselves, and I would have known Alysia wasn’t after me.”

“Obsession?” Christian echoed, looking amused.

She sighed. “I need to ask you for something.”

“That lunch I promised?” he quipped.

She shook her head. This was almost as hard as standing up to her father, but if six years in SingleEarth had taught her anything, it was that it was always easier to nd the courage to help someone else than it was to help herself.

“I want you to leave Alysia alone,” she said.

“You really think you can enforce your father’s threats? I know you too well, darling.”

The words confused her. “What are you talking about?”

“Are you going to try to convince me that you don’t know your father agreed to leave

Alysia alone and drop the contract against her only if she and I didn’t get back together?”

“Why would— It doesn’t matter,” she said. She didn’t understand why her father would be so afraid of Alysia, but at that moment, it worked in her favor. “I don’t care about my father’s issues with Alysia. I care about Alysia, for her own sake. She has dreams, Christian.

Plans for her life. She can have a future in SingleEarth, or anywhere she wants. If you go nd her now, you’ll push her to give all that up before she has a chance to realize that she has options. Did you know she’s in college?”

Christian frowned, not disapproving but obviously confused. Of course, he and Sahara had been homeschooled by the same tutors; they were literate and could pass for educated, but neither had gone through the traditional school system.

“Tell me you’ll give her time,” Sarik said.

He looked like he wanted to argue, but at last just shook his head. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told your father: I don’t control Alysia. Once I con rm with Ravyn that she’s all right, I’ll back o —for now—but that won’t stop Alysia from hunting you down once she recovers and nds out that you and Kral have decided to team up and emotionally blackmail me.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

Given what Sarik had put her through, Alysia deserved to take any shot she wanted.

“Also, you’ve lost your free lunch,” Christian added before storming out.

She hesitated for a moment, then followed him, not in the hope of catching him but because the only alternative was continuing to hide in her room.

Near her father’s o ce, however, she saw a sight that enraged her: Kevin, her father’s current favorite unky, leading Jeht and Quean across the dimly lit chamber. Jeht walked ahead of the messenger, perfectly composed, as if completely unaware or uncaring of the grandeur of the Onyx Hall. His brother looked distinctly more nervous, as if he were less trusting of the stranger.

Christian had reached the scene rst and was staring at Kevin with murderous intent.

“You went to my house?” Christian demanded.

Jeht, meanwhile, caught sight of Sarik. His eyes widened as he took in the change in her appearance— especially the addition of what was probably more metal than he had ever seen another tiger wear.

“What are they doing here?” Sarik asked Kevin, her voice every bit as sharp as

Christian’s.

Kevin inched, explaining quickly, “Kral sent me for them. He gave me a message to repeat, in their language. They came with me.”

“Divai, ona,” Jeht said, his voice questioning but his words formal.

“Gen’maen’gah’la,” Sarik replied. Literally, it meant “You are within my sight,” spoken as a leader to a lesser tiger in the clan. To Kevin, she added, “My father has no right to bring them here.”

“You can tell him that,” Kevin replied. “I’m just—”

He broke off as the door to Kral’s office opened and the leader of Onyx emerged.

“Mik’ra,” Sahara greeted him, not by title but simply as Father. “Why have you summoned my—”

“Your … what?” he replied, using the informal pronoun instead of the formal one she had used for him. The exchange was short, but she could see Jeht contemplate it and guess what it meant: she had backed down and failed to declare herself independent from her father.

And this wasn’t a time or place where she could reengage that ght. Christian was watching her, waiting for her to speak up, but she knew that challenging her father at that moment, in his own territory, would only get the boys killed.

Jeht prodded his brother, and Quean knelt before Kral in a Mistari’s submissive pose, both knees on the oor, head bowed, and wrists crossed with palms up. Symbolically, the posture said that they were ready to receive with open hands anything their leader was willing to give—even if that was a knife across the bared wrists.

Jeht, on the other hand, met Kral’s gaze squarely, then bowed his head and o ered his hands as his brother had without sinking to the same level. The choice was intentional, and telling. He was aware that he was not in charge here, but he may as well have said aloud

I’m not certain that you are, either.

Kral and Jeht regarded each other stoically, the three-hundred-year-old guild leader and the nine-year-old princeling. Somewhere down the line, if Kral couldn’t tame him, Jeht would be a threat. Sarik tensed, wondering whether her father would feel forced to strike

Jeht down and whether she would be able to do anything if he tried.

Aware that speaking out of place and saying the wrong thing might earn her a beating, Sahara chose her words with care. “If he’s too much of a risk, no one will fault you for refusing him. His other king did.”

Kral responded exactly as she had hoped he would, with pride and showmanship. He turned his back and said as he returned to his o ce, “They may stay. Sahara, show them around.”

The instant Kral was gone, Jeht crossed his arms, and Sarik realized he was trembling.

He knew how to play the game, but that didn’t mean it didn’t frighten him. He had fully expected Kral to kill him for his defiance.

Maybe he would have been glad it was over.

What Jeht didn’t know was that, unlike in a Mistari tribe, the challenge he posed wouldn’t necessarily be dealt with directly. A child in Onyx lived a dangerous life. Sahara and Christian knew that.