Disclaimer: BMT belongs to Trudi Canavan

The night was a nightmare, only Cery didn't sleep. He lay on his back, his head pillowed in Savara's lap. She was tracing the frown lines of his face with her gentle fingers, but he barely noticed her attention. He kept seeing the horrors she had described for him. Exactly like a nightmare, but it was self-induced this time. Hadn't he coaxed it out of her? Every sickening detail? He was a thief; a ruthless member of the criminal underworld, and yet he couldn't stomach the pictures she described. Was that because she spoke of Sonea this time?

It had been hours since they spoke last, the silence was an eerie presence that weighed heavily on his conscience. She brushed his lips with her own.

"I am so sorry, Cery," she breathed against his skin.

Yet again. She was saying that every time the silence had grown unbearable. Apologizing, but Cery couldn't think of anything she might have done wrong.

A blissful interruption eventually arrived in the form of insistent rapping at the door. He sat up, his eyes wide.

"Who's that?" he demanded, his voice raw.

"It's me, Cery," Gol's grumpy drawl came through the door.

Cery looked briefly at Savara and then he sighed and started to dress.

"Stay here," he told her, gesturing at the bed.

Without a backward glance, he opened the door and left.

"What's that about?" he asked his second.

"High Lord's servant," Gol explained. "He wants to talk, says it's urgent."

Cery closed his eyes and groaned.

"I know what he wants to tell me," he muttered darkly. "Let's go."

They were silent as they traveled through the tunnels. Cery worked to calm himself so he would be able to play a farce of ignorance. His stomach turned at the thought that Tacan would want to tell him the same gruesome story again.

Finally, they arrived at the metal door guarded by two broad-armed men. Cery nodded to them, and they pulled the heavy door frame open. Gol followed him into the comfortable rooms that the Sachakan occupied.

Tacan was pacing in obvious agitation.

"What's up?" Cery asked innocently.

"Thief!" he was visibly relieved. "Akkarin spoke to me and told me to explain some things to you."

Cery raised his eye brows. He took a seat and folded his arms across his chest.

"Alright," he said, his charade perfect. "Go on, then."

The servant sat across from him, and started speaking about the Ichani and the nature of the conflict that Akkarin inadvertently provoked. He spoke of the war that was rapidly approaching, of the misconceptions of the Guild. Cery hoped that he was doing a good job playing surprise and concern. In reality, he was anxious for the bad news to come. The suspense was painful.

"You know that Akkarin and Sonea entered Sachaka yesterday?" the servant was getting to the point, Cery could tell. He braced himself.

He shuddered involuntarily. Not trusting his voice, he nodded.

"They were quite unlucky," Tacan said. Nicely put, Cery thought blackly. "The Ichani were waiting for them over the border. Sonea and Akkarin split up to avoid the trap," he lifted his shoulders, oddly unconcerned. "Unfortunately, one caught up with Lady Sonea…" he stiffened, noticing something in Cery's face. "Thief? Are you well?"

Cery cleared his throat. He was certain he had gone very pale. Tacan handed him a glass of wine and watched him anxiously.

"I'm fine," he replied hoarsely. "Go on."

"Forgive me, Thief," he said in genuine concern. "I spoke thoughtlessly. Of course, I should have started by saying that Sonea is in perfect health and save."

Cery inhaled the wine through his nose and started coughing. His guest started fussing about, thumping him on the back.

"What?" Cery wheezed, shocked.

Tacan regarded him thoughtfully. Obviously, his reaction wasn't something the servant expected. Finally, he continued.

"Lady Sonea was in a panic, understandably, and she began projecting her situation for Akkarin," he paused, his eyes shifting to the distance. "Mind communication isn't private so her struggles were witnessed by other magicians," he narrowed his eyes at Cery. "Sonea stopped projecting when she thought she would be killed. That is why the Guild is convinced she is dead," Tacan's features were tight with suspicion. "And, you had the same misconception, too. I think."

Cery recoiled. Had he been that obvious? Tacan folded his arms, waiting for an explanation, but Cery remained unmoved. His face hardened into a fierce scowl. The servant was a guest and he should remember that.

"So, she's not dead," he said forcefully. "That's a relief."

Tacan regarded him closely for a long moment, but then he relaxed and sighed.

"Yes," he said. "That is why Akkarin would like you to do him a favour."

"Oh? What's that?"

Tacan explained Akkarin's predicament and his plans. Cery's eyes widened in interest and excitement.

"I can do that," he said, grinning.

The servant's lips curved upwards, his eyes glittered mischievously.

Thank you again for your reviews. I hope you don't mind another Cery chapter so soon. I wanted to keep the timeline correct without back flashes and the like. Merry Christmas to you all!