Page 7 of Hair, She Bears
“I’m not him.” His fingers tapped the sofa cushion.
“Your reputation claims otherwise.”
“And how did you come by this damning information?” Malik turned to his left and then his right in an exaggerated movement, drinking in the austere furniture in the tower. He stroked his chin as if contemplating her words. “Do you receive your gossip by carrier pigeon?”
She giggled, then clamped her hand over her mouth, her eyes rounding. “I apologize, I didn’t mean to laugh.”
“I don’t mind.” Leaning over, he reached out and placed one gentle finger on her hand. Lowering it from her mouth, he smiled. “It’s not a sound I’m accustomed to.”
“Your mother…” He flinched at the word, and she sank her teeth into her lip, stopping the question.
“Dead.” Malik rose and trudged to the open window. Staring out at the courtyard, he slammed his palm flat on the right side of the wall. The sound startled Zenna, who leapt off the sofa, abandoning the quilt, and retreated behind her worktable. He glanced back, his face softening.
“I won’t hurt you, I swear.”
“Mother said the same thing the night he kidnapped me.” Zenna shuffled forward two steps.
Malik pressed his lips together into a thin line. His gaze skated over the shelves. Crossing the room, he stopped in front of the worktable, then lifted the cloth from the mortar, staring at the deep purple powder.
“My father isn’t going to let you leave.”
“What do you mean?” Zenna’s heart constricted. Mother had to let her go. This batch paid off the balance owed, there was no reason to keep her.
“Your hair is the key to Votras Alute. The whole operation depends upon the sale of that drug.” Malik lifted his eyes.
“And you think Mother will renege on our agreement?” Zenna asked, despair seeping into her body. Tears gathered along her eyelashes.
“He had no intention of ever honoring it.” Sighing, Malik stepped around the worktable and wrapped her in a hesitant embrace, brushing his lips across the top of her head. “I am sorry to be the one to tell you.”
“Maybe you should kidnap me,” Zenna said, muttering the words into his chest.
“I’m not any kinder,” he replied and stepped back, a hard mask sliding over his face.
“So, you’re not going to help me?” She sniffled, a sob stuck in her throat.
Malik shook his head.
“You’re going to be late for your meeting, and I have a lot of work to do.” Zenna turned away from him, rolling her shoulders back. Walking to the shelves lining the wall, she selected an empty vial from the top rack. He moved behind her and clasped her upper arms.
“Mother would kill us both if I took you.”
Zenna stiffened. “You need to leave.”
“I can’t.” Malik gestured around the tower. “There’s no door.”
“But Mother—”
“Has abilities which I do not,” he interrupted with a snarl. “For someone who claims to know my reputation, you got that part wrong.”
“Then how are you supposed to attend the meeting?” A wrinkle carved into her forehead, she spun around, her eyes searching his.
“That’s part of my punishment.” Malik twisted away from her probing gaze and returned to the window. Leaning out, he stared down at the tufts of grass shoving through the stones surrounding the base of the tower. “If I’m late…”
“What would your father do in your position?” she asked, setting the empty vial beside the mortar.
“He’d take the powder and jump from the window.”
“It’s over forty feet!”
