by Laura R Cole
CHAPTER 10
Rhys tracked Wren down in the library and plodded over to him. It was much easier to ask him about history than to look it up himself. He shot the librarian a glare as he walked past. Wren was looking happier than he had been of late.
“Wasn’t there something about the Lady Aria being involved in an attack against Layna years ago that involved some sort of potion?” he asked without preamble.
Wren looked up from his book and glanced over at the librarian who had predictably shushed Rhys the moment he’d spoken. She had it out for him ever since that incident with the missing tome, and her dislike of him only seemed to be growing the more time he spent here. As if anyone really wanted to read about the mating habits of gnomes anyway; it had made a much better target for his knife throwing practice.
“Yes,” Wren replied in a hushed voice. “She falsely believed Layna to be responsible for her father’s murder and gave her what she thought was a truth serum to get a confession out of her. Only it turned out to be poison. You don’t think she knew more than she was letting on, do you?”
“No, I already checked into it. I just thought there might have been more information about the truth serum and where she got it. We don’t normally have potions that could do something like this, but I thought that her story might give some insight.”
Wren nodded thoughtfully. “Well, we don’t have potions like the empire seems to. Which is why places like wherever Aria got the truth serum from are largely black market. Their wares tend to be snake oil concoctions that are as likely to give you a case of the runs as they are to provide whatever cure or wish you were going for. They aren’t true potions.” He thought for a moment. “Though I suppose that it is possible that both men went to one of these dealers looking for such a thing, especially in light of the strangers making potions seem that much more legitimate. Only what they got wasn’t quite what they paid for.” He seemed preoccupied.
“Do you think you could look into Lord Frolkon and Master Banys for me?” Rhys asked.
“You think they’re involved?”
“Just want to check every possibility. They will lose power when Phoenix takes the throne, so they have motive.”
Wren sighed. “Sure. I have some other things to take care of, but I’ll look into it; I promise.”
Rhys let him go back to his book while he contemplated his new thought. Levi had mentioned about the Lady Aria using poison against the Queen, and Phoenix had expressed worry that the potion from the strangers had been used to cause the attacks. Jessup wasn’t the brightest, but he did have connections through Jak so it was possible that he’d gotten the potion identified and then sold it to someone else. It also could explain the seemingly illogical disposal of the conspirators. If the potion had been misidentified and they believed it to have a beneficial response, it would make more sense that it had been administered to them.
He spent the rest of the morning questioning every black market dealer in magical items he knew to see if anyone had come in asking for a mystery potion to be identified. He came up short. Despite the failure, the thought that perhaps the strangers’ use of real potions could lend credit to the black market dealers of fake ones did hold merit. Perhaps both had simply been looking for a cure to baldness and this whole thing was one big misunderstanding.
He made his way to Levi’s hut and delivered the information he’d gained – which wasn’t much.
Though Rhys had tried to put it out of his mind, he kept replaying the day that he’d last seen the woman with the black and red dagger. And her comment about his mother.
“Did you know my mother when you were younger?” Rhys asked Levi out of the blue.
Levi looked up at him with surprise. “I knew of her,” he answered slowly. “Why do you ask?”
“Someone recently told me that I reminded them of her because I was good with snakes.” He watched Levi carefully. “And implied that she was somehow involved with the Shadow Sisters.”
“How do you even know about the Shadow Sisters?” Levi asked, avoiding his actual question.
“They use daggers with black hilts and red blades. There was an assassination in the city. I did my research. You didn’t answer my question.”
Levi stared hard at him. “I think you should ask your mother that question,” he finally answered.
Rhys’s heart sank. That sort of response was not at all comforting. “Why?”
“You need to go to the palace vaults,” Levi abruptly changed the subject. “Get the records of official orders sent out in the past month. Tell the Queen I asked for them. Go.”
Rhys knew he was being sent on a fool’s errand. Levi just wanted to get rid of him to avoid his questions. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to know the answers anymore. He began to feel sick to his stomach. He tried to recall any stories that his parents had told of their youth. They had grown up together for the first part of their childhoods, after Katya had been cast out of the tribes. But then they hadn’t met again until she was around Rhys’s age and Katya had found her way to helping Layna. What happened in between?
The Queen didn’t question his request for the official records and he soon found himself in the vaults searching for the files of communications sent and received by Lady Aria. He was so distracted by his inner turmoil that the implications and opportunities of being in the palace vaults didn’t even dawn on him until he had nearly completed his task.
He was in the palace vaults where the Bloodstone was kept. And he had a reason to be there and remove items from it, and also to return to put them back. He glanced around hurriedly. The guards who came in with him had long since grown bored and were standing at the door talking amongst themselves.
He snuck farther into the vaults. A locked gate separated the outer vaults from the inner portion, but it was no match for Rhys’s skills. In moments, he was beyond it. In this section, each item was categorized and housed in its own special drawer, each complete with physical locks and magical wards. If he just had a little more time he could probably clear up his debt with Jak by acquiring the contents of a single drawer.
He felt guilty even thinking of it. He would be betraying the Queen’s trust as it was by borrowing the Bloodstone, even for a little while. His guilt was so strong that he almost turned around and left without taking anything, but his end goal pushed him forward.
The locks were no problem, and he quickly turned his attention to the magical wards. He wasn’t strong enough of a mage to have put these wards into place nor strong enough to be able to break them. He was, however, clever enough to know how to pick wards just like one would a lock. Weaken them in the correct places, and the entire enchantment would unravel.
He felt the spell dissipating, and he hurriedly pulled open the drawer and looked at the stone within. It was a deep blood red, a little bigger than his fist and spherical. There was a large crack running throughout, stemming from a large hole near its center. He stared at it with awe for a moment before reaching in and tucking it into his tunic.
He moved back to the outer portion of the vaults and let out a relieved breath that no one had noticed. Picking up the papers he’d already gathered, he closed the drawer to the file he had abandoned during his extra mission.
As he moved to exit the vault, the Queen suddenly appeared in the doorway. She wore a disapproving expression. Rhys froze.
“I assume,” the Queen said slowly, “that you have a very good reason for doing what you are doing.” She paused, and watched his reaction. He said nothing. “That is an extremely dangerous artifact,” she continued. “In the wrong hands, there could be disastrous results.” She then did something that Rhys never would have imagined. She moved to the side, allowing him to pass unhindered from the vaults. He nodded, then slipped past her.
Rhys sprinted the entire way to Levi’s, and didn’t bother with pleasantries. “Here,” he said shortly, plopping the massive pile of paper
s onto the man’s table. “I have somewhere to be. I’ll be back in a bit.”
Levi did not respond but watched him sadly as he left. Rhys didn’t want his sympathy. He didn’t want his mother to be some sort of assassin. My mother who so disapproves of my lifestyle.
He unwrinkled the paper that was stuffed in his pocket with the address to which he was to bring the Bloodstone. He felt another twinge of guilt, but pushed it aside as he sprinted to the place. Hesitating only a second, he knocked on the door. Thugs immediately drew him inside and ushered him to a back room.
Mr. Black was standing on the far side of the room, gazing out the window. At Rhys’s approach, he turned to him expectantly. True to his name, his hair was jet black and his eyes almost as dark. His nose pointed in a curved arch, reminiscent of the gang’s namesake: the Crows.
Rhys handed over the stone, drawing it out of his tunic while watching the multitude of henchmen out of the corner of his eye. The man was certainly paranoid.
Mr. Black turned away from him and held the broken stone up to the window. He made a low appreciative noise. “It is the Bloodstone.” He turned back around to face Rhys. “You have impressed me indeed, young man.”
Rhys glanced around at all the men once again and clenched his teeth. He held out his hand. “The deal was that I would steal it, not that you would keep it.”
Mr. Black stared at him, unflinching. Several long moments passed with no one moving, hardly breathing, as they all waited for the boss’s response. Finally, he laughed.
“You are correct,” he conceded. He moved forward to hand Rhys the stone.
Rhys took it warily. He nodded his thanks and took a step towards the exit, pocketing the stone. He paused before the threshold. Something wasn’t right. Taking out the stone once more, he examined it carefully. The light within it glittered and shone faintly.
He spun back around. “This is a fake!” he accused, forgetting how many men surrounded the boss in his indignity. They all sprang to motion simultaneously at his outburst and he was immediately surrounded by the points of spears and swords.
Mr. Black waved them off, smiling. “The second part of your test,” he stated. He drew the real Bloodstone out of his robes and held it out to Rhys. “You passed. Your mother must be so proud.”
Rhys snatched it from the man. “How do you mean?” he demanded.
The man had already turned away from him and the guards around him shoved Rhys out the door. He fought against them, yelling back towards the boss. “What do you mean?”
One of the guards put a hand over his mouth. “You got what you wanted, boy. Best not lose it by running your mouth.” They threw him out onto the streets. He clenched his teeth together in frustration.
