![Free-eBooks.net](/resources/img/logo-nfe.png)
![All New Design](/resources/img/allnew.png)
“So what is it about her?”
“About who? Careful!”
An exasperated sigh. “Stop moving and it won’t spill.”
“Don’t be unkind, Sarene. You try lying in essentially one position for weeks and then try not to move once you can.”
The soft clink of metal against ceramic continued unbroken for a time.
While Jex had managed to get himself up and dressed the night before, his fever had returned in the aftermath of his mental link with Enari. He’d reluctantly retreated to bed early that morning, but to everyone’s relief, he’d been much less disagreeable about it than expected.
“Well?” Sarene asked.
“Well what?”
“What’s so special about the little red-headed tart I threw out of here?”
“She’s not a tart, and that was very rude of you.”
“Just answer my question!”
“Nani’s a good person and I enjoy her company, when she isn’t pulling my chest hair out with those sticky bandages and— YOU VILE WITCH!”
Enari winced and tried to ignore them, bending her head over the tome in her lap again and squinting at the tiny and uneven scrawl that covered the page. Until now, she’d thought it impossible for anyone to have worse penmanship than herself, but she had found the one man in existence who did. The light in Jex’s sitting room was insufficient for the task of deciphering the spidery writing, but she persisted anyway, having nothing else to do until Sarene got bored and left.
The sound of a breaking dish came from the next room and she grimaced. On top of everything else that had already happened today, another mess to clean up was exactly what she needed.
She’d had another of those evil dreams again in the wee hours of the morning, which only seemed to compound her lingering headache. The ache had started behind her eyes shortly after Jex had been in her mind, and she was forced to assume that either the experience itself or the sudden way in which the link had broken was to blame.
Jex, aching and feverish, had proved to be rather docile so far, yet she still found her patience with him was short. All she wanted was to lose herself in the library and see what more she could find on psychomancy. The single tome she’d been able to snatch up this morning seemed to be more concerned with vague theory than the affects it could have on the user.
Then Sarene chose to make her unbearable presence known.
Less than half an hour earlier, the torina had breezed into Jex’s room with a tray of soup and bread and ordered Enari out as if she were a common servant. This had become a daily occurrence once he was deemed strong enough to take normal food, and she’d been particularly discourteous that day.
Their bickering started the instant Enari closed the door and they showed no signs of stopping.
“You did that on purpose this time!”
“You’re being horrid!” Sarene accused.
There was a rattle of crockery as something was slammed down.
“So dumping hot soup on me was your solution?” Jex bellowed at her.
“The all-powerful battlemage can’t even hold a bowl of soup on his own, and here I’d been told you were getting better.” Sarene’s tone was sweetly poisonous. “Do you want me to fetch your mother bird to come feed you?”
“Leave Enari out of this. You had no right to speak to her as you did, either.”
“You’re horrid,” the torina repeated.
“And you’re an insufferable, inconstant bitch. It’s a wonder anyone can stand your company.”
“Says the man who is so unimportant to everyone that he’s been left with only two little girls to care for him. With one of your ‘caretakers’ being a dumb mute, I’d say no one gives a damn—”
The sound of a slap cut the air and there was a feminine shriek of pained outrage. Enari dropped her book and stared at the closed door. Had Jex just done what she thought he had?
“How dare you!” Sarene screamed, confirming her suspicion. “How dare you strike me, you, you—”
“Get out,” he ordered frostily.
“You can’t order me around like you do her,” Sarene stated. Her voice lowered so that Enari could barely hear. “Or is that her appeal? Does she follow your commands like a cowed child? I’m a grown woman and I’ll leave when I’m good and ready. This is my palace, not yours.”
“You’ll leave now, even if I have to throw you out. I’ve had enough of your abominable behavior for one day.”
“Me, abominable? You’re the one who—”
She heard the sound of a brief struggle, then the door opened and they strode past her, Jex firmly holding the torina’s upper arm and using it to propel her forward. Even in his current state, he was strong enough to move her despite her resistance. He thrust her out into the hall and shut the door in her face, before leaning forward and thumping his forehead against the wood a few times. His knees buckled and he slid along the wall to sit heavily on the floor.
“Diu. I almost miss the biter she used to be.” As if suddenly remembering he wasn’t alone, Jex turned his head to regard Enari. “You heard all of it, I imagine.”
She nodded.
“I’m sorry, Nani. She had no right to speak to or about you as she did. You’ve done nothing to justify her treatment.” He shrugged helplessly. “She runs hot and cold like no woman I’ve ever known.”
Enari shifted uncomfortably, not really wanting to hear about the other women he’d ‘known’. What they’d shared the night before—and not just the mental bond—was making her hyperaware of a lot of things she’d never paid heed to before.
Like the number of admirers he’d collected in his brief time at court and the stir of jealousy she felt whenever she saw one of them.
Since he’d regained consciousness, there’d been a steady parade of concerned ladies coming in and out of his rooms. His most frequent visitor, other than Kylan, who didn’t count in this instance, had been Chimaka Addae, Lady Krighamre’s twin. The glares she gave Enari and the possessive way she touched Jex left no mystery as to the nature of their relationship.
“Perhaps she’d like to come and care for him awhile, see what he could really be like.” Enari knew the thought was unkind, but couldn’t help herself today.
Jex began struggling to his feet and she automatically rose to help him. After several attempts, they got him upright and he leaned on her a little as they retreated to his bedroom.
Upon reaching the bed, he collapsed across it in a boneless sprawl. He was sweating and hot to the touch again, but whether from the argument, the exertion, or his illness, she couldn’t tell. She quickly stripped him out of his boots and tunic, and for once he let her do it without protest. The spilled soup truly had burnt him, she saw, and she was quick to retrieve a bit of salve to ease the sting.
As she straightened up from tending the minor wound, the pouch she’d picked up from the stable yard the day of their arrival fell from her pocket and landed on one slippered foot.
“What was that?” Jex murmured. His eyes were only half open, but he’d seen the flash of blue.
She picked it up and showed it to him, feeling a little guilty for not returning it sooner. She hadn’t meant to keep it, but in all the chaos, there’d been no opportunity to return it. He took it from her with a smile.
“Thought I’d lost this, which would’ve been exceedingly unfortunate on several accounts.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “Have you been snooping, Nani?”
She shook her head and, on impulse, reached out and touched his temple. The link sprang into being with a little spark of static electricity and, despite the uncomfortable sensation of feeling his headache in addition to her own, she was able to show him how she’d come by the pouch. When she pulled back, he was grinning tiredly.
“I’m glad we can do that, even if it is prohibited. Makes you not being able to speak much less of an issue.” His expression suddenly sobered. “Have you found another bag like this here in my room? It would have been about the same size, but probably black instead of blue.”
She hadn’t and her negative answer seemed to disturb him deeply, though he chose not to explain. Instead, he shifted into a sitting position and patted the bed beside him. She knelt on the mattress, facing him expectantly.
“Would you like to see what’s in here?” he offered.
She shrugged, but he could tell her curiosity had been piqued. The fact that she hadn’t opened it in all this time spoke highly of her integrity and trustworthiness. Not that he’d doubted them.
“Enari.”
He touched her cheek and his eyes were grave in a way she’d never seen them. If nothing else, the use of her given name was evidence of how deadly serious this was.
“You must swear never to breathe a word to anyone about what you see here, or what I tell you. It could cost not only my life, but my mother’s and sister’s as well.”
Gaze steady, she drew a forefinger in an X over her heart. He opened the drawstring and upended the pouch between them, spilling the contents across the dark coverlet.
In addition to the small pile of missives he’d picked up along the road, the silk pouch contained several other, and quite curious, objects.
Amidst the folded bits of parchment, she spied three elaborate twists of what looked to be human hair; two dark auburn and one raven black. There was also a worn silver coin that she didn’t recognize, and a steel ring with markings etched around both the inside and outside of the band.
“If you’d be so kind as to take these,” he indicated the papers, “to the High Mage when we’re finished here, I’d be much obliged. Show them to no one but him. I doubt they contain anything of vital importance, but it’s best to be safe.”
She gathered them up and slipped them into an inner pocket before returning her attention to the remaining items.
“Do you know what this is?” He slid the ring onto the middle finger of his right hand and held it up, turning it side-to-side so she could examine it.
The play of light across the metal was mesmerizing. The markings curled through and around one another in sinuous loops, broken in many places by small hash marks. She guessed they were an accounting of one kind or another. Three triangular black stones shimmered as his hand moved.
“It’s a signet of sorts, indicating my rank in the Obscuri Brotherhood,” he explained, smiling thinly as he examined the ring. “I’m a senior runner for the Shadow Lady. One of her best, and these,” he plucked up the three twists of hair, “are to remind me of the fact. They were cut from me, my mother, and later, my sister when I was taken into the Brotherhood. I was five and just a lookout then. There’s a charm on them that allows the owner to be tracked no matter where they are. The lady takes a sample from every inductee and his or her family as…well, an insurance policy, I suppose, against one of us going rogue or stepping out of line. It’s quite ingenious of her, I must admit, even though most of us hate her for it.”
“And this,” he picked up the coin, “is the only thing I have of my birthplace, and it’s probably the most dangerous thing I own. If it were ever made known that I’m Atromorese by birth, I’d probably be lynched or something equally unpleasant and I don’t even want to think of what would be done to my family. ‘Our kind’ aren’t welcome in Egalion, not after the mess Iradi made of things with Tor Dorian, so banishment is the kindest thing they could hope for after I was dead.” He put his hand over hers and squeezed gently. “You’re now one of a very small handful of people who knows, and every one of them has sworn to keep the secret. I’m trusting you to do the same, putting our lives in your hands, as it were.”
He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the headboard. “So, Nani, now you know what I truly am. A spy, a thief, and an outlander.” His expression turned dark. “And apparently, an enormous prat as well, after that pleasantness with Sarene. I’ve never hit a woman before today. You must think I’m dreadful.”
As a matter of fact, she thought just the opposite. torina or not, Sarene needed someone to stand up to her. Maybe it would do the spoilt brat some good in the end to know she couldn’t bully everyone around her. He’d also trusted her with his life, and though she knew many would condemn or turn him over to the guards, it didn’t change her opinion of him in the slightest. She knew what it was to be different in a society where anything out-of-the-ordinary was so often feared and viewed with mistrust.
With a small smile, she stroked his hair back from his face and he leaned into her touch with a tiny groan.
“Such pretty hair,” she thought idly.
“Not nearly as pretty as yours,” he mumbled, “but thank you.”
Enari frowned down at him. “I thought you weren’t going to listen?”
He’d made the promise that morning; until she was able to control her gift, he would respect her privacy and keep his own mind closed to her.
“Sorry. You’re loud sometimes. I can’t help it.” He continued, barely above a whisper. “Your hands are always so cool. I think they’re the only things in this entire damned province not burning…or maybe that’s just me.” He was asleep in moments, but she stayed sitting on the bed next to him, her thoughts chasing themselves in jumbled circles.
* * *
“High Mage Alycon?”
Eryk looked up at the apologetic page standing in the doorway to his study.
“Yes?”
“There’s a young lady here to see you. Novice Namelum, I believe. I know you’re otherwise occupied, but may I show her in or would you prefer I send her away?”
“No, no, please send her in, Talon.”
With a curt nod, the man withdrew, leaving the door slightly ajar. His footsteps retreated across the heavy carpet of the room beyond.
“Novice Namelum?” his guest asked curiously.
“I haven’t had a chance to ask her Sura about the name, so I don’t know.” Eryk rubbed his eyes. “I’d be interested in your thoughts once you’ve seen her, however. You’re one of the few who remember Tanith well, and this girl...well, you’ll see.”
The young woman in question was soon hesitating on the threshold, fidgeting nervously with one sleeve. She jumped when Talin closed the door behind her.
“Novice, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” Eryk greeted her. The two men rose to their feet and she dropped a shaky curtsy, ducking her head shyly. From the corner of his eye, he could see Antilles appraising her speculatively. She eyed him uncertainly in return.
“How can I help you, my dear?” Eryk asked kindly, trying to ease her discomfort. She was such a skittish little thing and it was almost painful to watch. He pulled out a chair and gestured for her to sit. Her gaze darted to Antilles and back as she approached.
The man lounging across the table from the High Mage had a riot of chocolate brown curls tumbling down over his forehead and around his ears. His olive complexion glowed with health and his black eyes danced merrily as he watched her. He was taller than Jex and broader, but not as big as High Mage Alycon. She guessed he was near Jex’s age, but it was hard to tell; he had one of those faces that looked perpetually young. It was a trait common among the Darmese.
“Ah,” the High Mage laughed, “where are my manners? Novice Enari Namelum, may I introduce Adept Antilles Denier. He’s just arrived from Turris Arcana.” More quietly, he added, “You may speak freely in front of him.”
Enari inclined her head and Antilles reached for her hand, bowing over it and planted a courtly kiss on her knuckles. Eryk smiled at the crimson blush that suffused her cheeks.
“Is Battlemage Xander well today?” Antilles asked His voice was surprisingly light for such a big man, Enari noted, and his accent was much less pronounced than she’d expected. Many of the kvinnas from Darmiad retained their accents even after decades in the Temple and could be a little hard to understand.
“I hope he isn’t giving you too much trouble. He’s known for being a horrendous patient at the best of times, so you must have the patience of the All-Mother Herself to put up with him for as long as you have.”
Enari’s blush intensified at the compliment and she perched gingerly on the edge of the offered chair. An uncomfortable silence descended on the room and Eryk frowned. Why wasn’t she saying anything?
It took him a moment to remember the girl was mute and he mentally cursed himself for allowing the silence to stretch. Before he could speak, however, she produced a handful of folded parchment scraps. Reaching across the table, she placed them in a precarious pile before him.
“Are these from Jex?”
She nodded.
“I’d meant to ask him about them.” Eryk sighed in relief. “I’m glad they weren’t lost in all the pandemonium. Do you remember how many other mages he spoke with while you traveled?”
Enari’s brows furrowed and she gnawed on one knuckle absently as she thought, then held up both hands, fingers spread.
“Only ten?” It was the High Mage’s turn to frown. “There should have been at least fourteen.”
“It’s possible I encountered the others on my way here,” Antilles provided.
He produced a few parchments of his own and the two men perused them quickly before the High Mage sat back, apparently satisfied.
Antilles turned back to Enari. “May I have your permission to visit Jex?”
Enari lifted one shoulder in a shrug. There was no reason for him not to have visitors, so long as he was feeling better when he woke. Perhaps this Adept Denier would see something like she had, and thus lend a new perspective to the mystery of the dark marks.
“Excellent. I’ll come by after dinner, then.”
At last taking her leave of the two men, she shut the door securely behind her on the way out. The antechamber was empty and she was able to slip into the hall unnoticed.
“Quiet little mouse, isn’t she?” Antilles commented.
“Aye,” Eryk agreed, “Vasi says she’s never made so much as a squeak since she was born. No one knows why.”
“Curious.”
“Very.”
“She could be Tanith’s twin, were it not for the age difference,” the adept said carefully, watching the High Mage for his reaction.
“So it isn’t just my imagination. Good.” Eryk’s expression was neutral, but Antilles wasn’t fooled.
“And Kvinna De’Curande has told you nothing of her past, or her family?” he pressed.
“There really hasn’t been time. With everything that’s happened, Vasi and I haven’t spoken more than a handful of sentences to one another in the month and a half she’s been here, which is a pity. I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed her company.”
“In regards to said goings-on…Perimos should be here by month’s end at the very latest I think.”
“Why so long?” Eryk asked.
Antilles sighed. “He mentioned something about a ‘minor disturbance in the observatory’ that delayed his departure.”
“I swear by the Five, if my observatory isn’t exactly how I left it, I’m going to skin him alive. There’d better not be so much as a scorch mark on the stone.”
Antilles snorted out a laugh. “You should ride home slowly then, and take the long way ‘round. I hear Davaria’s capitol has lovely winter festivals that go from midwinter to the beginning of spring. That should give him ample time to put everything to rights. I wish he’d been more careful, though, because I certainly could have used his help this morning.”
Eryk felt his minor irritation darken into despair.
Brinon had sent for him at dawn, not even an hour after Antilles had arrived, and the news had not been good.
Yet another body had been found, this one in the tor’s own study.
Thankfully, Brinon had come across the scene before anyone else, and he’d kept the servants out with the excuse that he had sensitive business to attend to and that he must under no circumstances be disturbed. He’d sent a priest, who were a discreet lot by nature, to fetch his brothers-in-law and no curious crowd ever assembled.
The smell of decay had been absent here, as the corpse had not lain in the room but overnight. The golden light of dawn illuminated the tableau, casting a cheerful glow over the sad sight.
Collin Fin, personal secretary, confidante, and close friend of the tor’s for nearly five decades, sat at his desk, slumped over a pile of parchments. A quill was still clutched in one hand and his sallow cheek rested on a half-finished letter. His death had not been a violent one, like those of the council members, but it was certainly unnatural. One glance at his body proved that.
His tongue had been removed, same as the boy’s, and a braid of dark hair had been wrapped around one finger. It was impossible to determine its owner, however, as the coloring and length were common enough.
“Goddess preserve us,” Antilles breathed, “Is this like the others?”
“Only like the first,” Jordin provided, “The set after that were, ah, messier.”
“Poor Collin. He was my second cousin on my mother’s side, you know. His family will be devastated.” Brinon bent over the body and reached to close the dead eyes. He hesitated at the last minute and looked to the mages. “May I touch him?”
Eryk deferred to Antilles, who nodded. “I know your aura, sire, and a simple touch won’t contaminate the scene in any case. Go ahead.”
“Good-bye, my friend,” he murmured, “You shall be much missed.”
“What was he writing?” Jordin asked. He eased the page from under Collin cheek and his eyes scanned the elegant script. They snapped up to Brinon, shocked.
“I thought,” the duque began, “that you weren’t going to send Sarene to Davaria until next spring.”
Brinon’s face colored, but he didn’t look away. “I wasn’t, until all this confusion with the killings, the unrest in the Grand Council, and the stirrings from Ibiran started. Under the circumstances, however, it seemed prudent to write to Hadrian regarding the possibility of an early winter wedding.”
“Aelani agreed?”
“I haven’t spoken with her yet.”
“Ah.”
After a lengthy discussion, it was decided the best course of action would be to present the secretary’s death as a heart attack. If it were revealed to be otherwise, the tor feared an uproar. Four suspicious deaths were bad enough, but add a fifth he argued, and fear would run rampant and that was the last thing they needed.
* * *
“He says you’ve been really sick, Jex.”
“Not that sick.” Typical Jex-Xander-downplay-and-dismiss.
“I hate it when you lie to me. I’ve already Looked at you, you know.”
Enari halted with her hand on Jex’s bedroom door. She’d pushed it open only a crack when she’d heard voices, and now debated whether she should enter or retreat. Curiosity got the better of her in the end and she leaned forward to put an eye to the narrow space.
Jex stood near the window with Antilles Denier and they looked as if they’d been arguing. Jex’s eyes were bloodshot and he wiped his nose on his sleeve once before Antilles offered him a handkerchief.
Jex sighed again and his shoulders sagged a little. “Alright, but I’ll be fine in time. Thank Enari for that.”
“The little novice from Cyril?”
“That’s her.”
“She’s gorgeous,” Antilles observed casually, “Have you…?”
“Aye to the first, nay to the second.”
“But you want to.”
It was a statement rather than a question and Enari felt her face heat.
“Maybe.”
Antilles shook his head. “I know you better than that, Jex.”
“I suppose you must after all this time. We both know I wouldn’t have asked you otherwise.”
“I’m sorry, you know. So, so sorry.”
“Don’t.”
“Jex—”
“Don’t!”
Antilles embraced him fiercely and Jex allowed it for a moment before pushing him away with a sigh and a little smile.
“What?” Antilles asked, frowning.
“We’ve an audience.”
Turning almost casually, Jex’s eyes focused on her and she knew she’d been caught.
He beckoned. “Don’t be shy.”
Antilles started in surprise when she tentatively pushed open the door, but greeted her warmly when she reached them. She stared at the floor, cheeks burning, until Jex tucked a hand beneath her chin and raised it. There was no anger or even irritation in his expression, and in fact, he seemed more amused than anything.
“Kylan’s habit of eavesdropping is rubbing off on you,” he teased, tracing his thumb across her lower lip. “Did you learn anything interesting?”
“Leave the poor girl be,” Antilles chided him. He addressed Enari with a sympathetic wince. “I’m sure you’ve learned by now when it’s best to ignore him.”
“She’s far too polite for that, Antilles, unlike some people I know. Well, Nani, I suppose it’s time for you to have your nightly way with me, isn’t it?” He dodged the elbow Antilles jabbed at him, a smug grin turning up the corners of his mouth.
Glad to have something to do that didn’t require her to look at either of them, Enari began fussing with her kit, all the while listening to the conversation behind her.
“How much news do you get, cooped up in there all day?” Antilles asked.
“Not nearly so much as I’m used to, I’m afraid. Why?”
“I’m not just here to report on the ambush, though the findings are interesting enough to warrant the trip.” His eyes darted to Enari and he hesitated.
“I trust her.”
“People in the palace are dying.”
Jex shrugged. “People do that.”
“Not like this. They’re ritual killings, I’m almost certain, though rumor blames some of them on Ibiran rebels and some on Atromorese infiltrators. People are scared. Eryk has sent for Perimos.”
“Diu. How many have there been?” Jex demanded.
Antilles’ shoulders slumped, “Four, so far. A kitchen boy and three Grand Council members.”
“Which ones?”
“Um…Adipem Porcus, Hrivaldi Le’Quar, and Hera something.”
“Hera Wastrel,” Jex finished sourly, “That hag was one of the councilors promoting the idea of marrying Torina Kylan off to Min Ha. The child is seven.”
Antilles made a face. “That’s repulsive.”
“Makes you wonder why anyone could possibly want her dead.”