Unraveled

by Lindsay Buroker

I think the lion is Grekka’s bodyguard, Azarwrath said, having apparently wrenched his attention from the kitchen. It doesn’t look like it’s poised to leap on unsuspecting diners.

  What about suspecting diners? Trip asked.

  You have proven that you can handle her lions.

  I’ve also proven that her snakes can handle me.

  There is no tainted metal here, and I don’t see the man who ordered you tortured.

  Trip nodded. He had already checked for Bhodian since he had no trouble envisioning them sitting at the table together and holding hands as he walked up. He had also checked for the stasis chamber and hadn’t felt it. He hadn’t expected to, but he felt disappointed, regardless.

  “Might as well get this over with then,” Trip said and strode across the street to the entrance of the hotel.

  He entered the building without being confronted, but a waiter—or maybe that meaty fellow was a bouncer—stood with his arms folded across his chest in front of the stairs leading to the rooftop deck. He wore an eye patch, and a long scar stretched down one of his bare forearms, as if someone had once thought it would be a good idea to extract his ulnar bone with a dagger.

  Trip attempted to exude confidence and a right to be there as he approached the bouncer.

  The man’s gaze snapped onto him and held. Trip braced himself, expecting a sneer and a challenge, especially if he hadn’t succeeded in wiping away all the soot. Further, the bouncer might object to someone with two swords entering his peaceful restaurant. Trip had thought about leaving them behind, but only briefly. He was far too likely to encounter trouble at this meeting to be without the soulblades’ assistance.

  The bouncer’s lips parted, but not in a challenge. His gaze lingered, as if he found Trip… mesmerizing.

  Was that his scylori at work? He hadn’t meant to exude whatever it was that seemed to draw people. He just wanted the man to let him pass.

  “I’m meeting the Silver Shark for lunch,” Trip said.

  “Yes, sir,” the bouncer said and promptly stepped aside, gesturing for him to ascend the stairs.

  Trip hurried up, aware of the man’s gaze following him. More than that, when Trip glanced back, he caught the bouncer looking at his butt.

  He stubbed his toe and almost fell face-first onto the stairs.

  You needn’t be so alarmed, Jaxi spoke dryly into his mind. Handsome dragonlings attract both sexes.

  Always? Trip deliberately avoided brushing the bouncer’s thoughts, not wanting to chance upon any lewd images involving him.

  Not always. Sometimes, people will just pay extra attention to you and be eager to do as you wish. But if you happen to fit a person’s preferences, sexual interest is very common.

  Are you saying that man is…

  You’re not discriminating based on looks are you? Jaxi did that dry tone extremely well.

  No, I just thought—never mind.

  Trip reached the top of the stairs and looked around for a server to guide him. He thought about dampening his aura, but he might need it again to get past further gatekeepers.

  Since he’d already sensed Grekka from below, Trip looked across the tables to her corner. She must have been watching the stairs—or she’d sensed him as easily as he sensed her—because her gaze was already locked on to him. She smiled when their eyes met, then looked him up and down and licked her lips.

  He knew he didn’t appear that dapper and handsome, especially since he’d been wearing his last undamaged shirt in the explosion, but if scylori could improve his desirability, maybe it was worth continuing to use it during this lunch. He remembered the way the Cofah sorceress, Kiadarsa, had been attracted to him, drawn by his power rather than his looks, apparently. She had been willing to answer his questions when she’d been under his influence. If he’d asked the right questions, he would have learned much earlier that the Cofah had been at cross-purposes with Trip and his team. But he hadn’t known what he’d been doing then—hells, he hadn’t been doing anything, just being himself. Now, he could possibly choose to use his power to get information about Dreyak—and keep Grekka from springing whatever trap she planned.

  Come here, young and sexy, Grekka purred into his mind.

  He sensed her trying to use some magical compulsion on him, but it didn’t affect him at all. That reassured him. At least if it came to a battle between the two of them, he ought to have the upper hand, lion lurking on the rooftop notwithstanding. He had Jaxi and Azarwrath. Other than the lion, she had nothing.

  No, he realized, sensing a magical artifact on her person. She did have something. She wore a slender dagger in a scabbard tucked into her boot. It lacked the aura of a soulblade, but it definitely had magic about it. He would be aware of it, but he didn’t see a reason to fear it.

  Trip lifted his chin, waiting a moment so she would know that he wasn’t obeying her. He was tempted to order her to come to him, but that would be silly. They would end up standing at the top of the stairs instead of sitting at a table. Besides, several other diners had turned to look at him, including a woman in her eighties studying him from head to toe with even more interest than the bouncer had shown.

  The name is Trip, he told Grekka, walking toward her.

  A waitress smiled shyly as he passed, and stepped aside.

  Less than a minute using his scylori, and he felt like a conspicuous ass disturbing people and drawing far too much attention to himself.

  Does this come more naturally to others? Trip asked the soulblades.

  Your friend Leftie doesn’t seem to mind being the center of feminine attention, Jaxi pointed out.

  I don’t think that happens quite as often as he thinks it does.

  Embrace your power and your heritage, Telryn, Azarwrath said. You go to face another mage. It is important to establish dominance. A little surge of pride or perhaps pleasure emanated from the soulblade.

  Trip remembered their conversation back in the Antarctic when Azarwrath had admitted he wanted to be with a powerful sorcerer rather than settling for someone like Kiadarsa. Trip suspected the soulblade would prefer it if he always strode around with his aura on full display, with people drawn to him. Or drawn to serve him. Trip couldn’t imagine anything that would make him more uncomfortable.

  He thought Azarwrath might comment, but maybe the soulblade didn’t hear his thoughts. He was trying to keep them locked down so the sorceress wouldn’t hear them either.

  I’m glad you came. Grekka patted the empty seat next to her.

  It was positioned scant inches from hers instead of on the other side of the table, the way others in the restaurant were arranged. Lovely. They could sit side by side and gaze out on the city while she fondled his leg.

  I almost didn’t. Your friend tortured me last night, you know. And you tried to kill someone I care about. Trip adjusted the chair as he sat down, putting a few more inches between them.

  A misunderstanding.

  Grekka waved over a waiter, one who’d been standing a few feet away and looking in her direction. Was his only job to serve her table? She pointed to the empty glass in front of Trip.

  Do you find it unfortunate when your misunderstandings result in people being tortured? Trip watched as the waiter filled his glass to the brim with red wine. Imbibing alcohol seemed a particularly unwise thing to do while drinking with the enemy.

  Grekka must not have agreed because she took a deep swallow from her glass to finish off the wine in it. The waiter filled it again before stepping away to a discreet distance.

  That was Bhodian who had you tortured, she pointed out. It seemed she wanted to have their entire conversation telepathically. Maybe because people were still craning their necks around, looking at Trip.

  After your animal menagerie forced me into a trap.

  His idea, not mine. And I charged him for the use of my animals, as any good businesswoman would.

  Grekka waved her hand toward the people eyeing Trip, and he sensed her exuding power, convincin
g them to find their own tables more interesting. He didn’t think she had a lot of dragon blood, but she’d clearly had training and knew how to use what she had.

  Aren’t you partners and lovers? Trip asked bluntly.

  Of course we’re partners. And we share our beds occasionally. But not exclusively. I take other lovers. She smiled at him, and again, he felt her trying to compel him to come closer.

  When he didn’t comply or respond, she scooted her own chair closer to his. He thought about scooting farther away, but what a ridiculous game that would be, of him inching away and her inching after him, all around the table. Besides, he needed to take charge if he wanted information.

  Even though Azarwrath’s words about dominance made Trip think about dogs raising their hackles and marking territory, he wouldn’t be surprised if that was essentially how it worked in the world of the magical.

  Tell me, he thought, gazing into Grekka’s eyes and trying to compel her.

  Belatedly, he realized he should have been more specific. What if she told him all about the lovers she’d taken in her life? She had to be fifty years old, but she was still a beautiful woman, and he had no doubt there had been many.

  I admit, I was happy enough to lend Bhodian the animals, though I worried you would kill some of them. And you did. You and that snooping wench with the chapaharii sword. Grekka’s eyes narrowed.

  The snooping was my idea, Trip thought coldly, feeling a surge of protectiveness toward Rysha. This woman had hurt Rysha—shot her—and forced her bear to attack her. That had almost killed her.

  Forgive me. Grekka dropped her head and rested her hand on Trip’s thigh.

  At first, he thought it was a sexual advance, but her shoulders shrank, and she truly seemed to be seeking forgiveness rather than trying to seduce him. Had she sensed his anger? He was being careful to keep his thoughts in the bank vault, but maybe his aura had changed somehow.

  Forgive me, Grekka repeated, but after you came without invitation and snooped in my office, I thought you deserved Bhodian’s ire. If that involved torture and death, so be it. I’ve not risen to such a powerful position by being afraid of killing those who stand against me. I believed you some business enemy’s spy or, when we researched you, even Iskandian spies. I thought your king or someone high up in your government might have an interest in my business, that perhaps I’d crossed your people somehow, and that I needed to show strength so they wouldn’t think me an easy target. That is the way of things here. You must be strong. Always.

  Trip tried to sense if she was telling the truth or if this was some act to distract him. She had her thoughts walled off, just as he did, but he found he could glimpse fragments, images of that night and what she had been thinking.

  Her hand stirred on his leg, and another thought slipped free of her wall. She was enjoying the feel of his thigh muscle and wondering what it would be like to sleep with someone so powerful, the son of a dragon. What magic they might experience in bed together.

  He flushed with embarrassment and discomfort, and threw out an image of her pulling her hand back. She did so, so swiftly she smacked her knuckles on the table hard enough to scrape skin away and draw blood. He winced. He hadn’t meant for her to hurt herself. Seven gods, he was awful at this.

  Forgetting his earlier vow to leave the wine alone, he took a long drink.

  Grekka sat quietly in her chair, her head down, her hands in her lap. Trip glimpsed the waiter looking at her, a shocked expression on his face. This wasn’t how her dinner dates usually went, the man’s reaction said.

  Trip sensed the lion atop the rooftop stirring and wondering if it should leap to its handler’s defense. But Grekka must have ordered it to stand down, for the great cat sat on its haunches again.

  I apologize, Trip told her after he collected himself. But I have someone already.

  Someone who liked to sleep with him because of who he was, not what he was.

  I see. Did she? She sounded puzzled, as if she couldn’t imagine it. Or imagine having only one lover, perhaps.

  I am not a spy, Trip thought. A personal quest brought me to this continent, and I came to this city because I was looking for a friend.

  Her gaze lifted to his. Dreyak.

  Yes. Did you kill him?

  Grekka was so surprised, she gripped the table, as if to keep herself from falling out of the chair. Of course not. His death may have been my fault, but I assure you, I didn’t intend for it to happen. She looked away, out across the rooftop and toward the city. I should not have met with him openly where others could see. There are no innocents in this city. It has a million eyes, all for hire. She looked toward him. It was Bhodian mentioning that you claimed friendship with him that made me realize I might have made a mistake. It seemed unlikely since you’re an Iskandian, and he was always loyal to the emperor and Cofahre. For reasons I can’t fathom. She snorted and sipped from her glass.

  Explain.

  He was my son.

  This time, Trip was the one who almost fell out of his seat. What? How—I mean, I know how, but we’re a long way from Cofahre.

  People do move occasionally. Grekka arched an eyebrow, but her humor didn’t last long. She gazed out on the city again as she continued on. More than thirty years ago now, I was one of Emperor Salatak’s concubines. It was neither prestigious nor enjoyable, but I was young, and I believed differently then. I thought it was an honor to have been chosen, especially when Salatak came to see me regularly. He was moderately handsome back then. But even in my idealistic youth, I was there for more than honor and definitely for more than him, though I admit I had a silly infatuation with him. There was a woman in his court who taught magic to those with dragon blood. Salatak hated her and hated everything to do with magic, but his mother was still alive then, and she was the one who thought it would be wise to have all those with power trained. He didn’t know I had power, but I did. I approached her, and during the days, when my services were not needed, I received my training. It was worth staying for that reason alone.

  Trip nodded, though he hadn’t meant for her to tell him her whole story. He needed to be careful when he was exuding his aura and making suggestions to people.

  We took measures to ensure we didn’t become pregnant, but accidents happened. Even though Salatak had three wives during his rule, and he legitimized all the children produced in those marriages, he would not give anything to the bastards born in his harem. He magnanimously told me he wouldn’t have my son killed, and that my boy would even be raised to serve his legitimate children. That’s when some of Salatak’s allure wore off for me, but that isn’t what made him an enemy to me. Though she still gazed toward the city, her jaw clenched, and her eyes grew hard. He found out I was training with Lakrai and that I had dragon blood. Not only did he refuse to touch me after that; he ordered me to leave his court. And to leave my son, Dreyak, with him. I fought that and tried to sneak away with him in the night, but his bodyguards caught me. They ripped Dreyak from my arms and threw me out of the palace. All I could hear was my baby crying as they carried him back inside in their oversized calloused hands.

  I’m sorry. Trip felt sympathetic even though the woman had caused him so much trouble and had hurt Rysha. He had to admit that he could understand how, from her point of view, they had been the intruders. The enemies. If he had walked up, asked her about Dreyak, and introduced himself as a friend of his, they might have avoided so much. Instead, he’d made assumptions and jumped to conclusions.

  Grekka didn’t seem to hear his comment. I left, she went on, since I had little other choice. At the time, I thought I would one day get Dreyak back and raise him outside of the palace and far from Salatak’s influence, but that was before he started trying to have me assassinated.

  What? Why?

  I don’t know if someone turned his ear or if he decided this on his own, but he believed that I would use my magical powers to seek revenge on him, that I might even try to assassinate him. He believ
ed he had to have me killed first, or that’s what I was led to understand from the women back at the palace that I maintained contact with after I left. Grekka shook her head. He sent four different assassins after me. If not for the small amount of power I claim, I would have died to their daggers. I’m fortunate that they weren’t his best assassins. He either didn’t think he needed his best to kill me, or he wasn’t willing to spend that much money to pay the best.

  Either way, I believed I had no choice but to leave the empire and hope he didn’t care enough to have me hunted to the far ends of Linora. I ended up here, thousands of miles from his influence, and in what I suspected was the last place he would look. As far as I know, no assassins have sought me out here, but I never forgave him for what he’d done. I vowed that, if I ever got a chance, I would drive a dagger into his heart.

  Some people forgive or forget. I do neither. Of course, I never thought I would get a chance to go through with my vow. Grekka looked at Trip for the first time in several minutes. But then the Iskandians kidnapped him and exiled him to an island not far from here, if you can imagine that.

  That was before I was out of the flight academy, Trip shared, not wanting her to believe he’d had anything to do with that, though she didn’t seem displeased by it. If anything, there was a smug smile on her lips.

  Was it? I’d heard they had a dragon along and ten sorcerers.

  Trip snorted. There weren’t ten sorcerers in all of Iskandia. He wasn’t sure if Sardelle had been on that mission or not. But she would be at most one.

  I didn’t care how it was done, Grekka continued. Just that, for whatever reason, your king decided to store Salatak here. Within my reach. Her fingers tightened around the stem of her wine glass. At first, I merely sent people to observe. He was marooned on an island, so it wasn’t easy to spy on him, but he had Iskandian guards, and some were willing to talk for the right amount of money. Now and then, supply ships came in. He was well cared for, though certainly not to the degree he was accustomed. I doubt your king felt he needed a harem to attend his needs.

  Trip had no idea how monarchs and emperors were usually treated when foisted into exile, but he didn’t imagine that harems were typical.