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Hagnon’s beady ones. “We are deeply indebted to you.” He speaks slowly, trying to make each word a long, golden drop of honey.
    Alex has never chosen when and where he sees flashes of men’s hearts; the unknown force that pulls him into people’s memories—often at the most inopportune moments—has always come unbidden. But in the days since Kat told him that she was Snake Blood—that she has the ability to enter the bodies of animals and become one with them—he has been realizing that his own gift may in fact have been a form of the same ability. Though he can’t quite fathom the idea of possessing magic blood, he’s been interested in finding out if he can do what Kat does. Not with animals so much—except for Bucephalus, with whom he has always felt an extraordinary kinship—but with people. If he has the ability to see a man’s strength, weakness, and past, could he also have the ability to persuade?
    Judging by the way Hagnon’s chest swells and bright pink spots bloom on his cheeks, it seems he does.
    The white tunnel that usually appears and drags Alexander into a man’s mind does not form this time. Instead, the white light hangs low, misting over his vision. Alex becomes intensely aware of his heartbeat—or perhaps, it is Hagnon’s heartbeat.
    Alexander suddenly feels the smoothness of pride, the sharpness of fear, and the ragged hunger for power. The disjointed swirls of thought tangle like ribbons as Alex searches for a thin thread that can be used to convince Hagnon to come over to his side. And then he finds it: the slipperiness of self-doubt.
    â€œThat is why,” Alex says, slowly and calmly, his voice seeming to echo from someplace very far, “I know you will find the way to collect the funds for our military needs. You have my complete faith in your abilities.” Finally, Hagnon’s decision slices down on the mesh of thoughts and emotions, knocking Alex unceremoniously from his mind. Back inside himself, he feels shaky, weak.
    The minister smiles and nods. “My lord, I am grateful for your praise and will do as you wish, despite the difficulties that might arise.”
    Alexander nods as a bead of sweat drops into his eyes. He brings his hand up to wipe it away and hopes that no one has noticed his uneven breath. He did what he needed to do, but it has a physical cost. And the meeting isn’t over yet, no matter how tired he is. “The next order of business, if you please.”
    Theopompus shuffles some scrolls in front of him. “I received word last night that the Persian bride chosen for you has unexpectedly died. There is, however, no need to trouble yourself.” He looks toward Alex and peers down his fleshy nose. “The Great King himself is seeing to her replacement.”
    Hagnon sighs. “It’s a shame she didn’t die after she arrived here. We could have kept the bride price.”
    Alex lowers his head, but it is only a polite gesture of respect for the dead. He is sorry for the girl and her family, but he didn’t know her...or even her name. It’s just as well, really, that she will not be coming to Pella, as an entire retinue of Persian girls and eunuchs would be a distraction in this time of war.
    Besides, he wonders how desirous Artaxerxes really is for an alliance, remembering the finely chiseled agate cameo of the king he found under the council table last month. The cameo was set in a frame of shining gold studded with gems—it had to be worth a fortune. He told himself at the time that if someone had obtained it honestly, he would post a reward for its discovery and make every effort to find it. Yet no one has come forward. It was, Alex realized, a bribe.
    He looks at his council members now. Is one of them a spy for Persia? The thought makes his whole body itch. He can’t afford a traitor. It’s both a danger and an insult.
    After the Aesarian Lords