As Zenia reached for the other side of the gate to help close it, the creature sprang from the trees. It moved so quickly, it was nothing but a blur of black with those yellow eyes burning in its head.
Jev fired as he slammed the gate shut. His bullet struck the creature with a thud. It didn’t slow down. As Zenia slammed the other half of the gate shut, it sprang straight for them.
“Lock,” Jev blurted. “How do we lock it?”
Zenia jerked up her arm, and a glowing blue swirl of light surrounded the center of the gate. The creature slammed into the wrought iron. Jev skittered back, expecting the gate to fly back open. It shuddered, hinges creaking, but it held. Zenia had locked it or barred it somehow. The blue magic continued to glow around the gate.
The creature landed, not apparently hurt by slamming into the obstacle. For the first time, Jev had a good look at it. Because of the growls and indistinct shadows, he’d been envisioning some four-legged panther-like creature, and it was as black as a mountain panther, but it landed in a crouch on two legs. The arms that stretched toward the bars were more ape- or ogre-like than feline.
It rose fully on its legs, towering ten feet tall. Hairy, clawed hands gripped the wrought iron and shoved at the gate.
“Let’s get out of here,” Jev said.
Rhi had already sprinted ten paces down the road toward the tavern and their horses, but she paused to make sure he and Zenia followed.
Zenia’s face was set with concentration, and a tendril of blue energy snaked from the dragon tear under her blouse to the gate. Jev had no doubt she was the only reason the creature couldn’t get out.
He reached for her, torn between wanting to drag her to safety and not wanting to distract her from her magic. That thing, if it got out, might very well outrun their horses. Or eat their horses.
“I’m coming,” Zenia whispered, not taking her gaze from the gate.
She backed away slowly. Jev walked at her side, keeping his pistol pointed at the creature for all the good it could do. He knew he’d struck their black-furred foe in the center of its chest.
The creature growled, shaking the iron with frustrated paws. Or hands? Jev had no idea what they were dealing with, whether it was natural and from some distant continent or if a mad elven mage had created it in a laboratory in the tower basement.
It continued to growl and snarl, but Jev and Zenia backed farther down the street until they could see nothing but its hairy fingers wrapped around the bars. Those fingers finally released and disappeared back inside the yard. The growls faded.
Laughter rang out from the tavern. It seemed nobody had noticed the creature or the skirmish going on inside the garden. Even their two horses, which had been joined by several others, were indifferent to the nearby predator. That seemed odder than the rest.
The blue energy around the gate faded, along with the tendril that had attached it to Zenia’s dragon tear.
“We better get out of here,” she whispered, turning to unhitch her horse from the post.
Jev already had his horse free. He thought a brisk evening trot sounded like a delightful idea.
“Rhi?” he asked. “Have you changed your mind about riding with me?”
“Yes, it sounds lovely now.”
“Good.”
Jev mounted, offered her a hand up, and as soon as Rhi settled behind him, he and Zenia took off.
He let Zenia pull into the lead so he could watch their backs more easily. A few times, he thought he heard some noise and a faint growl from the shadows behind them, just audible over the clip-clop of their horses’ hooves, but maybe it was his imagination. Or maybe they were the noises of some stray dog or cat.
He and Zenia didn’t slow their horses until they reached the city gate. A couple of bored-looking watchmen regarded them with indifference as they trotted out.
“I’m going to spend the night at Dharrow Castle,” Jev said. “Does either of you want to join me?”
“Was that an invitation for something exotic and outré,” Rhi asked, “or do you think we all need to spend the night twenty miles away from that thing to be safe?”
“Ah, it was neither.” Jev wouldn’t mind having twenty miles between him and the elven guard dog, but he suspected it had orders to stay in its garden, and he didn’t truly believe they needed to worry. Of course, that hadn’t kept him from setting a very brisk pace out of the city.
“That’s disappointing,” Rhi said. “I’ve never done anything outré with a zyndar.”
“You’re a celibate monk, aren’t you?”
“Exactly right. Which is why I’ve never done anything outré with a zyndar.” Rhi grinned at him.
“My reason for going to the castle,” Jev said, eager to change the subject, “is that I’m hoping Lornysh is there, since he wasn’t, if we were told the truth, at the embassy.”
“You think he might have crossed paths with the cloaked elf?” Zenia asked. “Yilnesh, was it?”
“Yes, that was the name. And yes, I’m hoping Lornysh has run into him and can illuminate him for us. If nothing else, he ought to be able to walk into the embassy without being attacked. Maybe he can ask a few questions.”
“What about the doctors on Zyndari Ghara’s list?” Zenia asked.
Jev hesitated. They should still interview those people. Even though his hunch about the elves had led him to someone suspicious, it didn’t mean that elf had anything to do with their case. There were plenty of reasons a visiting elf might not want to talk to the king’s agents.
“Why don’t you give the list to me?” Zenia looked toward the sky, which had grown almost fully dark. “My room is nearby. It’ll be easy for me to get an early start in the morning and interview them.”
“You won’t be busy fasting and getting to know your new rock?” Jev nudged his horse closer to hers so he could hand her the list. If he did find Lornysh, he could envision their chat leading to them spending the next day hunting down the cloaked elf. If that happened, he would have to make sure to be back in time for Targyon’s reception.
“I will,” she said, “but I’ll work in a few interviews. Besides—” her tone took on an odd note, “—the rock and I are already getting to know each other.”
Rhi hopped off the back of Jev’s horse as he debated whether to find the note in Zenia’s voice distressing.
“I’ll stay in the city, too, thanks,” Rhi said. “The last time I visited your castle, your father tried to beat me up.”
“Didn’t you knock him on his ass in a fountain?”
“I said he tried to beat me up, not that he was successful.”
“Ah.” Jev touched Zenia’s arm.
She wore a distant expression, as if she were getting to know the dragon tear at that very moment. It couldn’t communicate with her, could it? Jev had never heard of dragon tears being sentient or having the power to deliver visions the way that ivory artifact had.
“Will you be all right?” he asked quietly.
“Yes.” She nodded, her eyes focusing again, and she smiled at him. “Of course. Be careful out there. The Kor highways aren’t as safe as they used to be.”
“I’ll definitely stay away from the mangrove swamps.” Jev thought about kissing her on the cheek, but with Rhi looking on, he did not. He didn’t want to inspire more comments about babies or suggestions for threesomes.
He waved and headed off into the night, pondering why an elf might run from him.
14
Zenia took her borrowed horse into the stable to remove its gear, feed it, and give the animal a good rubdown. Previously, she hadn’t thought much of her rented room above a stable, but now it was convenient since she hadn’t wanted to ride all the way to the castle in the dark and then walk back down the hill to the room.
“This is where you live now?” Rhi nudged a haystack with her toe and grinned. “Which stall is yours?”
“I live up there.” Zenia pointed to narrow stairs and a trapdoor leading to the converted haylo
ft. Aside from the lack of indoor plumbing and somewhat fragrant neighbors, it wasn’t a bad place to stay. The privacy suited her, and she’d chosen it over the rooms the landlady rented inside the main house. There wasn’t any indoor plumbing in there either. It had been a farmhouse until the city expanded out to usurp it into its territory, and the owners hadn’t updated it much over the years.
“Do I get the tour? And is there someplace to eat?” Rhi waved a grease-spotted brown paper sack. She’d picked up dinner from a vendor on one of the main boulevards on the way over here.
Zenia was surprised Rhi hadn’t headed back to the temple yet. She ought to shoo her friend away, lest Rhi get in trouble for spending time with her, but Zenia couldn’t bring herself to do it. Facing that strange creature—guard monster?—in the elven yard had rattled her, but even more, her new dragon tear had her a little uneasy.
Oh, it hadn’t done anything disturbing—indeed, in the short time she’d carried it, it had proven itself useful and surprisingly intuitive. It was more the hint of the great power it possessed that alarmed her. All she’d had to do so far was think that she wanted to know the thoughts of another or to protect herself from a foe, and the dragon tear had swiftly done what she wished and more. How much could it do? If it turned out to be truly powerful, was she capable of responsibly wielding that power?
“Zenia.” Rhi snapped her fingers and waved her bag. “There’s water in your trough but no horses drinking.”
Zenia blinked and looked at the troughs before realizing it was a metaphor. “I’m fine. Sorry. Yes, come upstairs. There’s a table and chairs as well as a bed.”
“The luxury lifestyle, eh? Your last room didn’t have a table. Come to think of it, neither does mine. But monks are supposed to lead simple lives. We’re also not encouraged to write memoirs.”
Zenia tried to decide if Rhi sounded disgruntled. She couldn’t remember her friend ever complaining about her chosen career.
Zenia grabbed one of the lit lanterns and led the way up the narrow stairs. Rhi’s bo clunked the railing a few times as she followed. Zenia pushed open the trapdoor and used the lantern to light lamps around her rented space. Stacks of hay occupied one end behind a partial partition, but the other was homey enough with, as Rhi had pointed out, more furnishings than Zenia’s small room in the temple had claimed.
Rhi sat at the table and delved into her bag while Zenia jogged down to the yard to fill her pitcher from the well between the stable and farmhouse. She returned to find Rhi chomping on lamb and rice wrapped in grape leaves, doing her best to keep the loose pieces from spilling out onto the table.
“You were the one responsible for keeping the elven gate shut, huh?” Rhi pointed to Zenia’s chest. “Can I see your new gem?”
Zenia poured cups of water for both of them, then pulled the thong over her head as she sat down. She was relieved when the dragon tear didn’t share a sensation of distaste or disapproval when she removed it. She half-expected some kind of reaction. After the elf had gotten away, she’d received a distinct feeling of disappointment from it. Whether it had been directed toward her or toward itself, she did not know.
The sensations—feelings—that emanated from the gem might be more the reason for her unease than the power itself. She had the niggling suspicion the dragon tear was somehow sentient, and since she had never encountered that before or even heard of it, she worried she’d gotten a rare and special gem.
The dragon tear pulsed twice on the table, as if responding to her thought. To her thought that it was special?
Zenia touched her chin, more concerned than ever.
“It’s beautiful.” Rhi bent down to peer at the carving. “A dragon? I’ve never heard of a dragon being carved on a dragon tear, though that does seem like a natural choice. What kinds of skills does it augment?”
“So far, it’s allowed me to shield myself, convince an elf to answer my questions, and keep a gate locked against a brute of a monster.”
Rhi’s forehead crinkled. She didn’t voice her thoughts about the randomness of that list, but she didn’t have to. Zenia had a feeling this dragon tear broke the mold in more ways than one. She didn’t get a sense that it allowed any particular profession or hobby to be enhanced but that it might be able to enhance anything one chose to do. Was that possible? It was contrary to everything she’d learned about dragon tears.
Zenia would show it to Master Grindmor the next time she crossed paths with the dwarf. A master gem carver ought to know all about every possible dragon tear in the world.
“Can I touch it?” Rhi lifted a finger toward the gem but paused.
“It’s all right with me,” Zenia said.
“Uh, is it all right with it?”
Zenia hesitated. She’d never heard of a dragon tear rejecting anyone’s touch, and Targyon had handled this one before giving it to her. She didn’t think it would react negatively, but could she be sure? So far, it had proven itself… different.
The tear pulsed one more time, its soft blue glow outlining the dragon carving. Neither of them was touching it, and Zenia found it disconcerting that it seemed to be reading her thoughts.
“I’m not sure if that was a yes or not,” Rhi said.
“Nor am I. I’d make sure you don’t have any of that green sauce on your fingers before touching it. It may not want to be smudged with food.”
Rhi frowned, licked her finger, then experimentally tapped the dragon tear.
“Not sure saliva is an improvement,” Zenia murmured.
“My saliva is lovely.” When the gem didn’t react, Rhi let her finger come to rest on it.
Nothing noticeable happened, and Zenia let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
“It’s a little warm, isn’t it?” Rhi rubbed the gem between her thumb and finger before laying it back down. “Like it’s full of energy.”
“I believe it is.”
“Huh.” Rhi picked up her food and returned to eating. “You sure you don’t want some?”
“No, I might as well begin my fast now. Needing to solve this case is going to make a bit of a farce of the ceremony, but I’ll meditate tonight and do my best to obey the tradition in spirit.”
The last time she’d bonded with a dragon tear, she’d had other mages to guide her through it. This time, she had nobody. She hoped it wasn’t possible to mess up. Most of what she remembered from the last time was lying on a mat and trying to empty her mind of thoughts until she could sense the faint vibrations of the dragon tear on her chest.
“I hate fasts,” Rhi said. “Senior Monk Garseth is always wanting to lead us on them to spiritually cleanse ourselves. I can be spiritually clean while I’m enjoying three meals plus desserts a day.”
“You monks fast often. You should be well-practiced.”
“I’m well-practiced at many things. But thunking villains over the head is the only thing I truly enjoy.” Rhi grimaced around her full mouth. “Maybe thunking the occasional snotty colleague.”
“I hope you’re not referring to me.”
“You have your snotty moments but not usually with me. You know who I’m referring to.” Rhi pulled the wrapper back up over her roll and set the remains on the table.
“If it’s not working out with Marlyna, maybe you could request being transferred to someone else.”
“I already did. Garseth said to at least work with her for a year since there aren’t any other monks available to go out with her now. Which was a lie, or at least a partial truth. There are a couple of instructors who aren’t assigned to an inquisitor and could be. Probably should be. Teaching doesn’t take that much time, and it’s not like inquisitors go out on assignments every day.”
“A year isn’t so long.”
“It’s forever with bad company. I’m thinking of quitting.”
Zenia gaped. “Quitting being a monk? Working for the temple? You’ve been there for, what, fifteen years?”
“Almost, yes.”
/> “You’d just give that up? Your entire career? Over one sour-faced colleague?”
“More than her face is sour, and she’s more of an employer than a colleague. At least she thinks so with the way she completely zyndars over me.”
Zenia rubbed the back of her neck, having no idea what to say.
“You changed your career after twenty years.” Rhi gazed at her, her usual sarcasm turning into something akin to reverence.
The unfamiliar expression startled Zenia. “Not by choice. You know that. Sazshen kicked me out.”
“Yes, but you’ve got an even better job now.”
Zenia leaned back in her chair, the hard wood pressing against her spine. “You think so? It’s an honor to work for the king, of course, but I’m not—it doesn’t come with…” She groped for a way to say she missed her fame and the fact that everyone had known at a glance what and who she was, thanks to the telltale blue robe. Now… Few people were aware that the king had special agents. But to complain about losing her notoriety seemed petty. “I haven’t even solved a case yet,” she said instead. “I don’t know if the job will be permanent. If the king was expecting Jev and me to find his cousins’ killer or killers swiftly, I’m afraid we’re disappointing him.” No, she was afraid she was disappointing him. Jev and Targyon were old army buddies. As the junior officer, Targyon must have respected him and depended on him out there. She suspected it would take a lot for Jev to disappoint him.
“I highly doubt that’s true. You don’t give a dragon tear to someone who’s disappointing you.”
“He lent it to me. To use in his service. Just as the archmage once lent me the dragon tear I used in the temple’s service. If I screw up enough, he’ll take it back.”
“Screw up? Zenia, this doesn’t sound like you. You’ve always been so confident and even cocky for as long as I worked with you. You always believed in yourself.”
Zenia spread a hand toward the dragon tear, not knowing how to express or justify the doubts she’d experienced since starting this job. First, it had been because she hadn’t had a dragon tear. Now, she had one, but it was a strange one, and she wasn’t confident in her ability as a mage to use it. She also felt daunted working in the castle, in an unfamiliar office among agents whose names she barely knew. She didn’t know the full requirements of her job since she’d never been briefed by her predecessor, a man who’d wanted to hit her the only time they had met. To add insult, she couldn’t find the blasted handbook that might have enlightened her.
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