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As he reached the entrance, he sensed Toren at the edge of his mind and had to drop his magic in order to communicate. He leaned his back against the opposite wall and tightened his grip on his sword. Fortunately, he’d grown accustomed to using all his senses. He kept watch on the entrance and surrounding tunnel as he opened his thoughts.

“Is all well?”he sent Toren.

“They found Ria,”his husband answered.“I’m with her now.”

Mehl sagged against the wall.“How is she?”

Anger slipped across their link.“A bit dazed and ill from being hit on the head, but the healer should be here soon.”

Hit on the head? The hilt of Mehl’s sword dug into his palm from the strength of his grip.“I may be nearing the spy. I’ll let you know.”

“Take care.”

Though he sent a wave of love, Mehl ended their link before his husband could linger on his worry about the coming confrontation. Mehl needed to move. So he let his magic sweep out once more, and almost at once, he noted that the person in the storage room had shifted position. They’d moved much nearer to the entrance he sought.

Better, then, to lie in wait.

Mehl shifted around until he could press his back to the opposite wall, just beside the secret doorway. Sure enough, the other person grew ever closer until they were unmistakably beside the entrance to the tunnels. There was no reason to be squeezed into that spot unless planning an escape.

But then the stranger began to move away, and Mehl recited a litany of curses to himself. Was he mistaken, or had they detected his magic? If the spy was a mage, it was possible, especially with closer proximity. She might choose to risk leaving through the main rooms to avoid him, and then he’d never find her.

As the person eased farther from him, Mehl pulled his magic back into himself and swung around to open the door. He would have to go in blind, but the other person would no longer be able to detect him, either, not without him sensing the scan. But the entrance…that would be the tricky part. It was a tight squeeze, and that meant vulnerability. He would lose most of the range of movement with his sword, but since he had neither a shield nor a knife, it would have to do.

He would rather risk injury than allow her to escape again.

The door slid open with a soft whoosh of air, and Mehl turned sideways, sword arm first, to sidle through the gap. Unexpectedly, pitch black darkness greeted him, all the more stark for the slight glow he’d become accustomed to in the tunnels. Had the spy been working without lights, or had she extinguished the mage globes when she’d sensed him? Too bad Toren controlled the light in the secret passage. It put Mehl at a disadvantage since it framed him clearly in the doorway.

As he waited for his eyes to adjust, he attuned his ears to the slightest sound. The irregular hiss of ragged breathing. The slight scuff of shoe against stone. Both expected. Then the swish of a blade cut through the air, and he turned his sword to counter a blow even as he stepped back.

Sharp pain exploded across his forearm. He sucked in a breath from the bite, but he couldn’t let himself be distracted. He could make out the other person’s form now as they danced back farther into the room. The barest light glinted off the knife they held, one no doubt dripping with his blood. Well, no reason now to withhold his magic.

Unlike in the secret passages, Mehl could connect with the spells lighting this room. He let his senses rush out once more as he slowly increased the light to highlight the spy. Once again, she wore her Centoi clothes, and she held her knife with skill. Yet her eyes…there was an increasing fear as he approached—an uncertainty not typical of an assassin.

“King Mehl?” she whispered.

He watched, physically and magically, for her to attack once more, but now that they were at equal advantage, she didn’t seem inclined to proceed. She was too busy staring at his face in horror. More the pity for her.

“And you are?” Mehl asked, though he didn’t care.

As her eyes fastened on his mouth, he sprang forward, cracking the end of his sword against her hand so hard he heard the crunch of bone an instant before her scream. The knife slipped from her hold, and she reached instinctively toward the injury with her other hand, only to cry out again at her own grip. With his own arm burning with pain, he couldn’t summon sympathy.

Mehl grabbed her uninjured arm at the elbow and spun her around, shoving her against a shelf full of folded clothes. As she sputtered into the fabric, he dropped his sword to grip her other arm and twist it behind her. Her sharp, panting gasps turned into a low moan as he gripped her wrists in his uninjured hand and leaned his weight against her.

“Please,” she gasped. “The shelf is digging…can’t…”

He eased up the slightest fraction, but he didn’t let her go. Instead, he glanced around the room until he spotted a shelf full of accessories, including a bit of silken ribbon used for belts and hair ties. Good. He could bind the spy with that, then find something for his arm. The bleeding had slowed, but a trickle still trailed down until it dampened his palm.

Even if the woman made it to the dungeon with no further injury, there was no guarantee Toren wouldn’t kill her for that.

Mehl shoved the woman over to the other shelf, and using a combination of his teeth and his free hand, he managed to tie a loose binding around her wrists. She squirmed in his hold and tugged at her arms, but he leaned his weight against her once more until he could get her better secured with a second ribbon and his own free hands.

Only when he had her securely bound—at wrists and ankles—on the stone floor did he tend to his own wound.

* * *

Gods,Ria loved healers.

Sweet relief chased away pain and dizziness, leaving her with a light and slightly giddy feeling. In that moment, it was probably best that she didn’t remember the healer’s name, for she surely would have insisted they name their first child after him. Possibly even their second. That wouldn’t be too confusing, would it?