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He turned toward the passageway just as two cloaked figures appeared at the entrance, silhouetted against the brighter light beyond. One was quicker, moving with the precise efficiency he recognized immediately as belonging to K’Nar. The other...

"Zexx?" A familiar voice called, tentative yet urgent.

His heart gave a traitorous leap of recognition. Even muffled by the hood pulled low over her face, he would know Linnea's voice anywhere.

She had come looking for him.

ChapterTwenty-Nine

"How do you know where to go?" Linnea asked as K’Nar led her beyond the market and into the network of alleyways that branched off from it. The cloying scent of overripe fruit and grilled meat gave way to the mustier odor of damp stone and neglect as they left the bustle behind.

K’Nar glanced back at her, slowing just enough to let her catch up. "I didn't always serve in the tower, Chancellor," he replied, a hint of something she'd never heard before coloring his usually formal tone. "I wasn't high born. I know the city better than most who run it."

She nearly stumbled at the revelation. In all the years K’Nar had been her adjunct—first when she was merely a council member, then as chancellor—she had never thought to ask about his background. Had never considered that there might be more to him beyond his meticulous record-keeping and unfailing propriety.

"I didn't know," she admitted, shame heating her cheeks despite the cool shadows of the alley. First Zexx, now K’Nar—how many others had she misjudged or simply failed to truly see?

"Few do," he said simply, then stopped at an intersection where three narrow passages met. A pair of Cresteks leaned against a wall nearby, their faces half-hidden by their hoods. She recognized the marks of the artisan class on their worn cloaks, the slight staining around the cuffs that came from working with dyes or inks.

K’Nar approached them with none of the cautious distance she might have expected from her proper adjunct. "Brothers," he said, his voice shifting to adopt the cadence of the lower quarters. "Have you seen a Dothvek pass this way? Tall, broad, formal cloak?"

The taller of the two nodded, pointing down the leftmost passage. "Headed that way not long ago. Looking a bit lost, he was."

"My thanks," K’Nar replied, pressing something into the man's hand that she couldn't see. The exchange was so quick and natural that she almost missed it.

They continued in the direction indicated, the passage narrowing until they had to walk single file. The walls seemed to press in closer with each step, the strip of sky visible above dwindling to a slender ribbon of blue. The scent of mildew and stagnant water grew stronger, making her nose wrinkle beneath her hood.

After several more turns, the alley began to widen again, gradually leading them back toward what she suspected was the edge of the market square. She frowned, certain they were doubling back on their path.

"K’Nar," she began, prepared to question the directions they'd been given, when they rounded a final corner, and she stopped short.

Three figures stood at the far end of the alley where it opened onto a brighter space beyond. Two of them slipped quickly into the shadows as if they'd never been there, leaving one tall, unmistakable silhouette outlined against the light.

Zexx.

Relief flooded through her so intensely that her knees nearly buckled. "Zexx?" she called, unable to keep the tremor from her voice.

He turned toward them, his face hidden in the dim light of the alley. For a moment, they both stood frozen, the space between them charged with everything they'd said and left unsaid. Then he strode toward her, his movements fluid and powerful even in the confining Crestek attire.

Her heart lurched, certain for a breath that he might sweep her into his arms right there in the alley. Instead, he stopped a proper distance away, inclining his head in a formal gesture that hurt more than any of the angry words they'd exchanged.

"Chancellor," he said, his voice carefully neutral.

The title stung like a slap. She straightened, her training taking over where her emotions threatened to unravel. "Ambassador," she replied, equally formal. "We were concerned when we learned you had left the tower unescorted."

"A lapse in judgment," he acknowledged, his eyes never leaving hers despite his rigid posture. "I required some air and time to think."

K’Nar cleared his throat discreetly. "Perhaps we should continue this discussion somewhere less... exposed."

He was right, of course. They stood in a public alley where anyone might pass by or overhear. Even now, she could sense eyes watching from windows above, curious about the cloaked figures conversing in hushed tones.

"Of course," she said, gathering the shreds of her composure. "Ambassador, if you would accompany us back to the tower."

"As you wish, Chancellor."

The formality was excruciating, each syllable of her title a reminder of the wall she had erected between them with her accusations. She wanted to tear it down, to tell him she believed him, that she'd been afraid and lashed out in that fear, that she was sorry.

Instead, she said, "I apologize for the miscommunication earlier. Your concerns deserve proper consideration."