Free The Kraken King, Part 7 by Meljean Brook Page B

power. Ariq would make almost any concession if it meant his people would be safe.
    Any concession but one. He wouldn’t give over the Skybreaker.
    Unless they got their hands on Zenobia first . . . and they knew where her chamber was.
    Tengri help him.
But it was too late. Ariq knew it was too late before he reached the chamber doors. Terror greater than he’d ever known gripped his heart before shredding it, then the calm of battle descended, utter calm. She needed him. He wouldn’t give into anger or fear. He would bear any pain.
    He opened the doors.
    Twelve masked guards. All with blades, some with crossbows, and spaced so that defeating them all at once would be impossible. Four guards searched through the trunks that had been packed and left at the corner of the chamber. An unmasked woman sat in front of the low table that served as Zenobia’s desk, scanning a stack of typeset pages. Lady Nagamochi, most likely. And where was his wife?
    Rage began to spill through a crack in his calm, then Zenobia emerged from behind her dressing screen, her face set and flushed with anger, her green eyes bright and fierce. Sheer relief slipped over her features when she spotted him.
    â€œGood afternoon, Governor.” The captain of the guard smoothly rose to her feet as she greeted him. “Madame Fox and I were about to discuss her work. Please join us.”
    Her work? He glanced at Zenobia. Tight fear had already replaced the relief, her fingers twisting tightly in the folds of her tunic.
    â€œI will,” he said.
    Lady Nagamochi’s gaze swept his length. “I have already extended my apologies to your wife for interrupting at such a time, but now I must beg your forgiveness, as well. Perhaps you would also be more comfortable in the proper attire?”
    â€œI’m comfortable now.” He wouldn’t leave Zenobia alone and suspected they wouldn’t let her accompany him behind the screen.
    He caught her hand as he crossed to the table. Her palm was clammy with fear, and he entwined his fingers with hers, hoping to offer reassurance. Whatever the captain of the guard had claimed, this wasn’t about Zenobia’s work.
    With Zenobia at his side, he knelt facing Lady Nagamochi across the small table. She’d already moved the typesetting machine out of his reach. The heavy device could become a weapon as easily as any other. So could the table.
    And Lady Nagamochi knew. Her eyes met his, and Ariq could see that she knew exactly every move he might make, every method of attack he’d already imagined, every escape he’d planned. This wasn’t a woman who’d come unprepared.
    One of the guards who had been searching through the trunks rushed up to the captain’s side, a collection of pamphlets in hand—each part of
Lady Lynx and the Floating City.
Zenobia’s fingers tightened convulsively on his.
    Lady Nagamochi discarded the first parts of the story and thumbed through the last pamphlet. “This is not the altered ending,” she said softly.
    No. It was the ending that had been declared seditious and was banned in Nippon. Ariq saw the course this would take now. The Khagan had often employed this tactic against his enemies, using the excuse of a minor infraction to justify any punishment, no matter how unequal it was to the crime. To keep his wife out of prison—or worse—he would have to give up the machine.
    â€œThose are mine,” Ariq said, and though Zenobia’s fingers crushed his in protest, she remained silent, as if trusting his decision. “I brought them across the Red Wall. My wife can’t even read them.”
    â€œYes, but she wrote them. Did you not?” Lady Nagamochi looked to Zenobia.
    Her chin lifted. “I did.”
    â€œDid you know that it is illegal to possess this book?”
    â€œI don’t know that I was ever explicitly told that it was illegal,” Zenobia said. “But after