"Eugenides," he said. He had recognized the voice. "Yes." "What have you done?" "Not much yet," answered the… — Megan Whalen Turner
"Eugenides," he said. He had recognized the voice.
"Yes."
"What have you done?"
"Not much yet," answered the Thief from the darkness. "I remain fairly limited in my physical activities." He held up his right arm, and the magus started before realizing that the hand he saw had to be a wooden one, concealed by a glove.
Another booming explosion filled the air, and the magus turned back to the window but could see only a glare reflecting on the whitewashed walls of the buildings below.
"I had to send someone else to light the fuses," Eugenides said behind him.
"Fuses?" asked the magus, with a sick feeling.
"In the powder magazines of your warships," Eugenides explained.
"Powder magazines?"
"You sound like the chorus in a play," said Eugenides.
"And the play is a tragedy, I suppose?"
"A farce," Eugenides suggested, and the magus winced.
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More from this book
Unable to guess the answer, she asked, "Who am I, that you should love me?"
"You are My Queen," said Eugenides. She sat perfectly still, looking at him without moving as his words dropped like water into dry earth.
"Do you believe me?" he asked.
"Yes," she answered.
"Do you love me?"
"Yes."
"I love you."
And she believed him.
"I'll be your minister--"
"Of the exchequer? You'd rob me blind."
"I would never steal from you," he'd said hotly.
"Oh? Where is my tourmaline necklace? Where are my missing earrings?"
"That necklace was hideous. It was the only way to keep you from wearing it."
"My earrings?"
"What earrings?"
Eddis looked at her minister, curious. "Your head?" she asked.
Attolia explained. "He had to be forcibly dissuaded from strangling his son."
"So have we all from time to time," Eddis said seriously.
