Her blue eyes went wide. “This is the Dawn Caravan. Radu would never—”
“Radu would not,” Ben said. “Others might.”
She didn’t say anything more, but she nodded.
“I like you,” Ben said. “Take care.”
“You smell like her now.” The corner of Tatyana’s mouth turned up. “Did you resolve your dispute?”
“You’re very observant,” Ben said. “You know that, right?”
Her smile fell. “That’s what got me into trouble.”
“Good luck.” Ben tipped the edge of his cap toward her and sauntered slowly toward the edge of the camp again. He picked up a few more chairs and moved a few buckets, trying to keep from any appearance of haste.
He got to the edge of the clearing and walked straight into the trees. He heard a shout behind him, probably from a perimeter guard, but within seconds he was in the air, darting through the tree canopy as he and Tenzin had the night before, and in minutes he heard nothing but the wind.
37
Ben and Tenzin flew to the edge of the forest moments before they were to meet René the next night. Tenzin landed in a clearing and waited for Ben to land beside her. She looked to her right and watched him descend, her feeling of satisfaction immense.
He was beside her now, her blood in his veins, and his amnis knew hers. His light would never fade; it would grow and change like a jewel gaining facets with friction. His love for her was simple now, a seedling barely taking root.
What she felt for him?
The love I hold has lasted as I have. It lives in my blood.
She lived in Ben and he lived in her, joining the lives of those she had loved before. He existed with Nima, Stephen, and her children, residing among the names she’d chosen to forget and those she couldn’t bear to speak.
He watched her watching him. “What?”
“This is right.”
Ben frowned. “The job?”
“No. I mean, probably the job is right. I think our plan is solid, and if it isn’t, we can always fly away and lie about what happened. I was talking about us.”
He gave her half a smile. “Agreed. Not about the lying thing though.”
“It’s a minor lie.” She lowered her voice and fell into step beside him. “René said he had access to the goblets?”
“Yes.”
“You know what that means.”
Ben said, “He’s planning on us doing the dirty work.”
“That would be my guess.” She stubbed her toe on a tree root and had to remind herself why she wasn’t flying.
Act human. What a ridiculous idea.
“We should stay together,” she said. “He will attempt to separate us.”
“Agreed. We stay together and we go after Vano and Radu’s goblets. Let him get Kezia’s.”
“Yes.”
She saw René in the distance, a flicker of movement in the shadow of the trees. He stepped forward when they approached. “You’re late.”
“No, we’re not.” Ben looked at the moon. “The festival hasn’t started yet. Tell us where the goblets are.”
René wasn’t wearing black; he was wearing an elaborate costume that consisted of leather pants, a brocade vest, and a mustard-yellow cravat. On another man, it would have looked ridiculous. René DuPont was handsome enough to carry it off.
“You’re wearing party clothes,” she said.
“That would be because I am going to a party.” He looked at them. “You look like you’re going to a funeral.”
“We all enjoy different kinds of parties, René.” She walked past him and into the clearing, trying very hard to think about gravity.
Ben slipped his arm around her shoulders and sped up her pace. “Nope. You’re walking like a zombie, not a human. Just act natural.”
Ben had a rhythm to his walk, a moderate swagger that she suspected came from being tall and sexually proficient.
“What kind of zombie did I look like?”
“The old, slow kind.”
“That’s not good.” She leaned into him and followed his gait. “Is he behind us?”
“Yes. You don’t really enjoy going to funerals, do you?”
“It depends on who died.” She spied a group of Poshani watching them, but they were involved in a conversation that captured their attention before they could stare for too long.
René caught up to them. “Tenzin and I will go to Vano’s trailer. Ben, you can go to Kezia’s since you’ve already been there.”
Ben frowned. “But Kezia—”
“No,” Tenzin said. “Ben and I will take Vano’s caravan; you take Kezia’s.”
“I do not agree.” There was tension in René’s voice. “Vano’s trailer—”
“I’m sure has the bigger store of gold,” Tenzin said. “Which we will leave for you. Trust me when I say there will be ample time for you to collect your prize once we have all three goblets.”
René said, “I thought you were only hired to find Radu’s goblet?”
“That was before,” Tenzin said. “If we have all three, then we are in a far better bargaining position.”
“And what are we bargaining for?” René muttered. “If you drag me into your—”
“Don’t worry; it’ll be great.” Tenzin felt like skipping. This was going to be so much fun. “I think it’s time for Vano to retire, don’t you? And we’re going to choose his successor.”
* * *
The camp had completely transformed for the festival. Music rang through the air, and the scent of food, flowers, and incense was everywhere. Ben saw reproductions of the Sara-la-Kali icon painted on banners and re-created in flower petals. Small statues of the saint decorated each caravan they passed, surrounded by peacock feathers and jars of honey. On each trailer or wagon, a sword hung over the front door, its hilt wrapped in a black scarf.
“So many flowers.” Tenzin, despite the danger of the job, looked delighted.
Ben had to admit it was hard not to get caught up in the festivities.
Flowers were tucked everywhere. Cut and displayed in vases and glasses near the steps of each door. Hanging in baskets from roofs. Woven into crowns the Poshani women wore on their elaborately braided hair.
There were red strings tied on the corners of every caravan, some with small notes attached, some hanging in elaborate knots
