The Spirit Siphon (Magebreakers Book 4)

by Ben S. Dobson

  Berken gave a short, curt nod. “Tell me why you need it.”

  Indree ran her eyes across the names. Several had ranks indicative of the Belgrian Guard, investigators at the scene. And Tane and Kadka were there near the bottom, dated from the previous day. But just above, earlier that same day, a single name stood out.

  Henred Klenn.

  There was a note by his name in Belgrian, and even without a translation spell Indree knew enough to identify what was essentially a plus one. He’d signed in on behalf of himself and one other in the carriage whose name hadn’t been taken down. Endo? No, he’d stand out too much. One of his agents? Or just an assistant too unimportant to list? She didn’t know, but they’d left only a few hours before Tane and Kadka had arrived.

  Indree laid her finger beside his name. “We have correspondence between Henred Klenn and Duke Detehr that suggests Klenn was involved in convincing Detehr to go along on the test flight. This tells me that he was also at the site just before Tane and Kadka encountered a spellfire trap that had to have been set after the initial investigation.”

  Berken frowned. “A trap? I was told that was a malfunction in the engines.”

  Indree shook her head. “That’s what Tane told the Guard, because he didn’t know who was behind it. We didn’t want whoever it was to know we suspected anything. And no one challenged it, because exploding engines fits nicely with the story that Audland provided faulty plans.”

  “But Baron Klenn? He is the Kaiser’s cousin. Why would he—”

  “Because he once fathered a child with an orcish woman, and Belgrian custom forced him to give them both up. If he still holds a grudge over it, he might have been willing to work with Endo. He could be the agent we’ve been looking for.” Indree felt the blood leave her cheeks. “And Kadka is alone with him right now.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  _____

  TWO GUARDS USHERED Kadka through the door and into the large entry hall of Henred Klenn’s manor. They didn’t go back outside; instead, they took up position on either side of the door. Both were large for humans, and carried swords at their hips. Even when she turned away she could feel them watching her intently. No guard in Belgrier was going to let a half-orc loose unsupervised in a noble’s manor.

  That thought sat strangely in her head—the man who had fathered her had a manor, and guards to protect it. A title that would pass to his heirs. Which, in Belgrier, would never be her. She didn’t want it, didn’t want anything to do with him or this country, but now the thread was hanging there and she couldn’t stop herself from pulling at it.

  She’d been in fancier houses before—senators' estates in Thaless had all the pomp of a Belgrian manor with the addition of magical extravagance. But Klenn’s home was, at least, as large as any she’d seen. And the old-fashioned architecture they favored here had a certain elegance all its own, like a castle from a storybook. Mage-lights here and there provided illumination—free-standing lamps for the most part, as opposed to the built-in lighting she’d gotten used to in Audland. The hall was rather dim as a result, but that made little difference to Kadka’s eyes.

  She’d barely had a chance to look around when Klenn entered from the far side of the room, accompanied by another man she knew.

  Chancellor Wilnam Urnt.

  Not someone she’d hoped to see today, but she’d expected someone like him. She’d seen the other carriage outside and the guards waiting with it, so she’d known some noble or other was visiting.

  “Kadka!” Klenn said, with great enthusiasm. He spoke in Belgrian, translated by her earpiece, as he had during dinner at the palace—perhaps he didn’t want to use Audish in front of his guest. “I’m so glad you decided to come.”

  “Is bad time? I can leave if you are busy.” She very much wanted to. She was still unreasonably annoyed at Carver for convincing her to come, even if it was for good reason.

  Klenn shook his head. “No, no. Chancellor Urnt was just leaving. You’ll have my full attention.”

  Urnt frowned at Kadka. “Why are you bothering Baron Klenn? You were not allowed into our country to waste time. You should be investigating the accident.” He didn’t seem happy to see her. Which, she supposed, was much the same as their previous meetings.

  “Kaiser says he is eyes and ears of council for airships. I have questions.” She assumed the truth was off-limits—a half-orc child would be an embarrassment for a Belgrian nobleman. And she had no particular desire to share that information in any case.

  “Very well,” Urnt said, as if she’d asked his permission. “But be quick about it. You and Baron Klenn should both have more important things to do.” A short nod for Klenn, then. “We will speak more at the council meeting.” He strode for the door, passing by Kadka without another glance.

  As the door closed behind the chancellor, Klenn crossed the hall to meet her. “I’m sorry about that,” he said, speaking in slightly accented Audish now that they were alone. “Urnt wants my cooperation on certain issues that are going to be put before my cousin’s council tonight. I don’t imagine he was expecting to see you here. He is… not particularly fond of Audlanders.”

  “Is hard to notice,” Kadka said dryly. “He hides so well.”

  Klenn chuckled. “Ah, yes. I suppose I didn’t need to tell you. But I do apologize for his rudeness all the same. Now… what can I do for you?” His smile drooped, and she could tell he was nervous. “If you have questions about the investigation, I’m happy to help. Or with… anything else.”

  Kadka tested the points of her teeth with her tongue before answering. “Investigation is just excuse for Urnt. I want to…” She bit down on her tongue until it hurt, and then forced out the words. “To talk. About things you say last night.” Their personal connection was a way to get him talking freely. If losing her mother truly had motivated him to turn on his country, he might let something slip to Kadka that he wouldn’t to someone else. Carver’s idea, not hers, but it made sense. Even if she’d sooner wrestle a tunvok naked and unarmed.

  His face brightened instantly. “I am… very happy to hear you say that. I am all yours, at least until the council meeting this evening. Come, we can speak in my study. It will be more comfortable.” He started back down the hall he’d come from. Kadka followed, after a moment’s hesitation.

  The guards at the door moved to join them, but Klenn waved them off. “Not necessary,” he said. “We will be fine.”

  The guards fell back, and Kadka and Klenn entered the corridor alone.

  “Please,” Klenn said after walking in silence for a moment, “tell me about yourself. I want to know everything.”

  Kadka shrugged. “Raised in Sverna. Left when I was young, came to Audland. Here now.” She didn’t feel much like going into detail.

  “Any romance in your life? This Carver fellow?”

  Kadka barked out an involuntary laugh. “No. Not Carver.”

  “But there is someone?”

  She didn’t see any harm in telling him that. “His name is Iskar.”

  “A kobold name, isn’t it?”

  “He is kobold, yes.” She wondered how he’d respond—an orc and a kobold together would probably elicit disgust from most Belgrians.

  Klenn, to his credit, didn’t show any sign of judgement. “And is he a good man?”

  “Best I know,” she said, and tried not to make it sound like a comparison to her present company. It was, but it didn’t have to sound that way. And in fairness, most men compared unfavorably to Iskar.

  He didn’t seem to take it personally, just nodded his head. “Good, good. Don’t make the mistake I did. Follow your heart.”

  Kadka raised an eyebrow at that, but said nothing, just followed him in silence.

  Klenn waited for a response, and when none came, he glanced over his shoulder at her. “And what about this Magebreakers business?” he asked. “It sounds as if you’ve had some impressive adventures.”

  “Is nothing,” Kadka said. “Just
work.”

  Klenn came to a door and opened it, then led her through into a surprisingly cozy study. The large window behind the desk looked over a courtyard larger than most people’s homes, but the room itself wasn’t overly large, nor elaborately appointed. A bookshelf along one wall held a number of obviously well-read books, and on the other side, a small tea table was flanked by a pair of worn, comfortable looking chairs. “Please, sit.” He gestured at the table.

  Kadka lowered herself into one of the chairs. It was as comfortable as it looked.

  Klenn waited for her to sit before taking the other chair, and then he leaned forward to look her in the eyes. “Now, I think you are being too modest,” he said. “We do hear stories, you know. It hardly sounds like what you do is ‘just work’. You are helping people who need help. That is admirable. And it cannot be easy to face mages without any magic of your own.”

  Hearing him praise her like that was… strange. Not bad. It felt better than she liked, actually. She resisted the feeling, tried to ignore it. “Not easy. But is… fun.”

  “Of course,” he said with a smile. “Fearless. Just like your mother.”

  That was too far. She couldn’t just sit and listen to him talk about her mother as if she’d mattered to him. But she’d come for a reason, so she held back her anger and changed the subject instead. “Your turn. Family? Is big house for just you.”

  Klenn shook his head. “No, no. Only me. I have been somewhat lax in my duties as far as prolonging the Klenn name, I’m afraid. I have a number of cousins, of course, who are surely delighted by my choices. The estate will go to one of them if I don’t marry and produce an heir. And then there is Gerrolt. We have always been close. In this particular regard, we… understand one another particularly well.”

  Kadka knew Gerrolt had never married either, but the way Klenn said it seemed to imply more than just that. Maybe something worth knowing. “You don’t mean he loves orcs. Barely looks at me.”

  “No. I shouldn’t say, but… he and Detehr were very close.” Klenn gave her a pointed look. “That loss is not just political for him. He and I both know what it is to want something we cannot have, at least as far as Belgrian society is concerned.”

  “My mother, for you.” She very much did not want to talk about that, but he was telling her things he probably shouldn’t. Gerrolt and Detehr being lovers wasn’t relevant to the investigation, and Kadka thought it was stupid that anyone cared, but it was the sort of thing that wasn’t spoken aloud in Belgrier. She had to make Klenn feel like he could keep spilling secrets.

  “I’ve never met anyone else like her.” Klenn’s voice was soft, and his eyes seemed to focus on something far away. “The women at court seem… rather dull, by comparison. I wish that I’d had the courage to go against my family. But I was young, and I was a coward. Since then, the bloom has seemed rather off the rose as far as love and marriage are concerned. I suppose one day I’ll choose a suitable match and do as I’m meant to, but it all seems so perfunctory now that I’ve seen how little say I have in the matter.”

  Kadka frowned. “But you are from powerful family. On Kaiser’s council. Who has more say?”

  “That’s exactly why I have none,” said Klenn. “I am the Kaiser’s cousin, high in his councils. If I try to marry outside the… acceptable options, it would be an embarrassment to him. And as much as Gerrolt might understand, he could not allow it. There are too many institutions invested in maintaining things as they are. There is little choice in the life of a Belgrian nobleman, I’m afraid.”

  Kadka studied him for a long moment, not sure what to think. It sounded like whining, a rich man talking about how hard his life was without realizing how much worse it could be. But there was a sincerity to his manner that was hard to dismiss entirely. He admitted that he was poskan, at the very least, which was better than denying his cowardice. And he was aware of how broken Belgrier was in a way that most who lived there ignored.

  She just didn’t know if that made him more or less likely to be working with Endo Stooke.

  The problem was that the more they spoke the less she felt like she understood. She’d spent her life believing that her father hadn’t wanted her, and most of the time she hadn’t much cared. If he didn’t want her, she didn’t want him. Certainly didn’t need him. She’d had her mother—until she hadn’t anymore—and that had been enough. But she didn’t know what to do with this sad little human who appeared to have lived his whole life regretting the way he’d abandoned them. He didn’t fit into the story at all.

  Finally, she said, “If you believe this… if you see what is wrong in Belgrier and it cannot change, how do you live here? How do you sit on council that keeps things like this?”

  “It is… not as bad as it seems,” Klenn said. “I have some influence, and that allows me to make things better in small ways for the people who suffer most under our laws.”

  Kadka blinked incredulously. “Is not so bad? They have no freedom. Small help is not enough.”

  “Things have improved, you know.” There was a twinge of defensiveness in his voice now. “It is better than it once was.”

  “Is not enough.” Kadka felt her voice rise, struggled to contain her temper. “Think how they feel.” She gestured around herself. “You have very nice house. Big. Would still be prison if you can never go outside. Is same for them, but house is less nice.”

  “I know it is… not ideal,” Klenn said. He seemed taken aback by her passion. “But what would you have me do? I have encouraged progress where I can, but the reality is what it is. No one person has the power to reshape Belgrier. I have little say in the matter.”

  Kadka wanted to shake the man—he kept saying he had no choice, but he had as much as anyone ever had. More than some. To say otherwise was nothing but an excuse. “You can stand up. Tell council this is wrong.”

  Klenn paled slightly at the suggestion. “You don’t understand, Kadka. I would lose everything.”

  “Then you can leave,” Kadka said forcefully. “Give up money and fancy house. Don’t be part of this. Always have that choice. Had it when you watch my mother forced out.”

  He looked at her for a long time, and then his shoulders fell. “Ah. You are right, of course.” He let out a sad sigh. “But as I have said, I am a coward. I was then, and I am now. I… I am too old to start over someplace else. I’m sorry. You deserve… you both deserved better.”

  And now Kadka understood. Klenn was no villain, nor was he a traitor to his country. He didn’t have the fire for that. He was just an old, broken man, trying to make up for past mistakes but too frightened to do anything big enough to be noticed. She could almost feel sorry for him. He was as trapped as he said he was, it just wasn’t Belgrian custom holding him back.

  “Is fine,” she said, and felt the fight go out of her. There was no point. “My mother does not spend time crying for you, you know. She lives life, until it ends.” She didn’t say it unkindly—it wasn’t meant as an accusation. “So do I. Is good life. Good friends. Not always, but now. Would be different if you are in it. Is better this way.”

  Klenn smiled sadly. “You are probably right. I have spent a very long time worrying that I ruined your lives, but perhaps I could only have made things worse. I am glad to know that you are content. That is a gift in itself.” He paused there for a moment, looking very lost, and then his eyes widened slightly, as if he’d remembered something. “Speaking of which…” Without further explanation, he stood and moved to his desk.

  Kadka was halfway out of her seat to follow him when a sudden pressure filled her ears. It wasn’t the translation artifact—Klenn had been speaking in Audish, and he was silent now.

  “Kadka.” Indree’s voice. She’d taken a hair as a focus so she could communicate past Kadka’s innate Astral invisibility. “I’ve got a list here that says Klenn was at the crash site shortly before you and Tane. He might be the one who set the trap. I’m coming to you now—be careful.”


  That didn’t fit at all with Kadka’s assessment of the man. Had he been toying with her this whole time? The anger she’d almost let go of flared back to life, a burning heat in her chest. She turned in time to watch him dip his hand into a desk drawer. She couldn’t see what he was grabbing.

  “There’s something I have to give you,” Klenn said, looking up at her with a curiously sad expression.

  Kadka reached behind her back to grip her knife. “Show me.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  _____

  TINGA REMOVED HER earpiece as she strolled into the residence’s common room, tucking her hair behind her ear to disguise the motion. She might not have been able to pick Tane’s pocket without him noticing just yet—she was going to get him eventually—but she’d learned a little bit about sleight of hand. She pocketed the artifact for later, but for now she needed to blend in. No one here was going to have a big piece of brass hanging off the side of their head, and even the unobservant would have a hard time missing that her voice came to them by way of a sending.

  She just hoped she could manage the language without it. She was confident in her understanding, but she hadn’t actually practiced speaking Belgrian in a long while. Not since her grandmother had died.

  But she wasn’t going to mess this up. She was finally being allowed to do something—she had to show Tane and the others that they could count on her. Or they’ll be stuck on this stowaway thing forever.

  The common room was very much what it had looked like from down the hall. Tables and chairs were scattered about in various arrangements, occupied by people of all kinds talking and eating and drinking. An open area to one side was full of children playing a game of tag, but could as easily have been used for dancing or other such activities. Nearly everyone wore anti-magic shackles, save for a few who had to be guests visiting their families. It all looked surprisingly casual considering the circumstances. A community mingling like any other, as if they weren’t prisoners at all. But then, Tinga supposed that the choice for most was to adapt or go mad. She’d seen the same in Audland, where so many of the non-magical—like her parents—just put their heads down and tried to make the best of the hand they’d been dealt.