by C. A. McHugh
“What we need to do is bring this before the Privy Council.”
Bitter laughter answered him. “They’d be too scared to act. Remember, most of them sat there fifteen years ago when your father tried to do the same thing, and they resisted then. I doubt they’d have the balls to act now.”
Aerrin’s jaw tightened. Did the council’s reluctance to act contribute to his parents’ murders? “Even though they know what we’re up against.”
“Especially since they know what we’re up against.”
“We need proof.”
“I’m afraid I have nothing to offer other than a few scorch marks and a pile of ashes, and even then, I’m sure they’d have a noose around my neck before I could present them. And after witnessing Raimel with his connections last night, I’m pretty sure the council would hang him, too.”
After seeing the way the lanky man managed to disappear into the shadows, Aerrin wouldn’t be surprised. And now, of course, he was wandering around the palace unattended. No doubt some of the silver would turn up missing by the time he returned. “What can you tell me about Raimel?”
Surprise flickered across Ceryst’s face before his expression hardened into wariness. “He’s saved my life more times than I’d care to admit, and for that reason, he’s earned my complete trust.” The words had an air of finality intended to prevent further discussion.
Aerrin, however, refused to let it end there. “You tell me to be careful whom I trust, yet gather more allies. Why should I trust him over someone like Seroney?”
“Because he hasn’t set out to deceive you from the start. The girl is up to something. We both know that.”
“And Raimel isn’t?”
Before Ceryst could answer, the door from the hallway flew open. The knight jumped to his feet, his sword halfway drawn.
Raimel ran in, his arms loaded with food, but he didn’t bother to pause and retrieve the apple that fell from his grasp. “Let’s go before I feel the wrath of the cook’s rolling pin again.”
“Damn it, Raimel.” Ceryst rushed ahead of him, cloak in hand, and opened the secret passage. “Later,” the knight said to Aerrin before following his friend and shutting the hidden door behind him.
A second later, Leandros dashed into the room carrying almost as much food as Raimel, followed by a screeching woman wielding the aforementioned rolling pin. “Stop right there! Those are for the king’s feast, you little thief!”
She halted the moment she spotted Aerrin and dipped into a curtsy, a stammering apology spilling forth from her lips. “I beg your pardon, Your Majesty. I didn’t realize I…” She lowered her head and seemed to brace for some sort of punishment.
Two guards entered the room, both out of breath when they arrived. “We’re sorry for the disturbance, Your Majesty.”
Aerrin glanced from the breathless guards to the shaking cook on her knees before him. “If she’d been an assassin, I’d be dead by now.”
Now it was the guards’ turns to lower their eyes and stand at attention. Neither one of them offered an excuse for their delay. They both appeared to understand the implications of his statement.
The crunch of an apple split the tense silence in the room. “I told her I was your friend,” Leandros said as though that would smooth over everything.
But it didn’t. It just proved that the protection Aerrin currently had was far from adequate.
However, this might be the just the thing he needed to bring his concerns before the Privy Council and up his security. “Tell your captain that I wish to speak with him immediately before the Privy Council.”
They exchanged worried glances, but nodded. They would probably get an earful from their captain afterward.
Aerrin wished he had time to care, but right now, he’d found a reason to call the Privy Council together. The most important thing on his mind was to stop the Raven Bringer before he regained his full power, even if it meant taking one small step at a time.
Chapter 6
“Oh, this is interesting!” Nyssa flipped to the next page of one of the books she’d smuggled out of the archives and continued to read while she rode through the pass connecting Castadillia with Arcana.
Unlike their journey to Dromore earlier in the week, the weather was now mild with just a hint of seasonally appropriate chill in the air. It, along with the increased number of the Royal Guard and the accompaniment of a battle mage, eased some of Aerrin’s worries that the demon attack was waiting around the bend.
Aerrin urged his horse alongside her. He’d suffered a string of frustrations in Dromore and could use some good news. After the incident with the cook, he’d tried to call a meeting of the Privy Council, only to find that half of them had already returned to their estates. Another missed opportunity to bring up the Raven Bringer. Another missed chance to stop him while they could. But that didn’t stop him from sending letters to all the members asking them to be on the lookout for any strange happenings within their realms. If they noticed the demonic activity, too, then maybe they’d be easier to convince once he returned to Dromore in a few months for his birthday.
But for now, he was happy to be returning to the peace and quiet of the Academy a few days early. It would give him time to review all the information Nyssa had stored in her magical bag before the other students returned.
“First of all, I’m amazed you’re managing to stay upright on your horse with both hands on that book. Second, what’s so interesting?”
Flashing him a grin, Nyssa balanced the heavy book on the pommel of her saddle and used her free hand to lift up her cloak. A row of leather thongs strapped her leg to the saddle, allowing her to keep steady as the horses jostled along the road.
“The riding master had to tie me to the saddle when I first learned how to ride few years ago,” she explained. “I thought this was the perfect time to reinstate the practice.”
“That’s actually very clever.” His friend’s ingenuity never ceased to amaze him. One more reason he was certain she’d become one of the most renowned master mages in the kingdom in a few years.
“Of course it is. I thought of it, after all.”
“ ‘I thought of it, after all,’ ” Leandros mimicked in an exaggerated brogue, earning him a swat from Nyssa’s reins. He struggled to regain control of his horse. “Stop it. You’re spooking my horse.”
“That’s because he isn’t as well trained as mine.” Her horse paid no attention to the scuffling and continued to plod along as though nothing was amiss. Nyssa patted the horse on the neck.
“What have you found out, Nyssa?” Aerrin asked, hoping to redirect the conversation to her discovery. He’d asked Nyssa to see what she could find about Master Binnius and his connection to Seroney. After scouring the archives some more during their last two days in Dromore, they’d discovered no record of any Meris family in the kingdom, but she had stumbled upon an ancient family matching the name Master Philgus had muttered—Meritis.
“Did you know there was once a race of shapeshifters here in Elgeus?”
A shiver coursed down Aerrin’s spine as he remembered the time Seroney had turned him into a dog. Such magic was illegal in the kingdom, and for good reason. It reeked of deception. He couldn’t imagine the mayhem caused by a race born with that ability.
“Shapeshifters?” Leandros leaned over from his saddle to peer at the book in her hands. “You mean there were actually creatures that could become whatever they wanted at will without magic? Now that’s a gift I’d love to have.”
Nyssa frowned at him. “Not at the time of the Great Hunts, you wouldn’t. In the early days of the kingdom, people feared shapeshifters far more than they did elves or dwarves or any of the other hunted races. An army of shapeshifters once even tried to kill the king and his family, which was why there was a law enacted to kill any shapeshifter on sight.”
“But if they could become anything they wanted, how would you be able to spot one?” Leandros asked. “Were there any signs th
at would give them away? Like how demons have red eyes?”
“This book doesn’t say, but it does say that the last king before the Great Divide, Anilayus, recruited a secret brotherhood—the Azeckborn—who were skilled at hunting down shapeshifters.”
Aerrin had heard that word before, but where? “What’s this have to do with Seroney?”
“It seems a man named Gregor Meritis was rumored to have saved the life of the last shapeshifter—a female. She convinced him to side with the hunted races, and at the Battle of the Great Divide, he supposedly killed King Anilayus.”
Aerrin’s grip on his reins tightened. Despite his suspicions about Seroney, she’d acted more like an ally than an enemy. She’d helped him master the mistform spell. She’d risked her life to protect him and everyone else in the Academy from the Jarilith. She’d even saved Ceryst with her knowledge of arcane medicine.
But if she really was a Meritis, where would her loyalties lie?
Then he recalled where he’d heard “Azeckborn” before. “Remember when I was worried that Seroney knew about poisons? Well, she mentioned Azeckborn’s poison by name, and she knew its antidote too. That’s how we healed the Lone Wolf’s wound.”
Nyssa’s brow furrowed. “If Gregor Meritis was working with the shapeshifters, he might have known about the poison. I wonder if he passed down that knowledge to his descendants. Maybe they knew about other poisons too.”
Which could explain why Master Binnius turned to Seroney when they needed to save Ceryst’s life. Another point for the ally column.
Leandros tried to peer at the book in Nyssa’s lap. “Is there any mention of what happened to the last shapeshifter?”
Nyssa snatched it out of his grasp. “Why do you want to know?”
“If she lived, she might have reproduced, and then there still could be shapeshifters among us.”
“What is your fascination with shapeshifters?”
“Come on, Nyssa. Don’t you think it would be fun to be someone else, even for a little while?”
She didn’t answer Leandros’s question at first, and her face twitched with uncertainty. Based on his conversation with her the other night, Aerrin had a good idea of what was going through her mind. If she had the chance, would she try to pass herself off as one of the ladies of the court, even if it was just for a little while?
After a momentary struggle, her expression settled into its usual calm intelligence, and she returned to her book. “There’s nothing mentioned about the fate of the shapeshifter. I would assume she died since the only shapeshifting I’ve ever read about is ancient history. But there’s something else I stumbled upon. Gregor Meritis apparently could speak to animals.”
“That would be a fun gift to have, too. I wonder what my horse would say to me. Probably something like, ‘It’s such a great honor to carry the renowned swordsman and noble friend of the king, Lord Leandros Vergail.’ ”
Nyssa rolled her eyes. “More like, ‘Why am I forced to carry around the biggest idiot in the kingdom? What did I do for the gods to curse me thus?’ ”
“Shut up!” Leandros spurred his horse ahead of them, his spine rigid.
She giggled. “You set yourself up for that, you know. How could I resist?”
Aerrin ignored their banter and considered all the information Nyssa had given him so far. “Why use apparently and supposedly and rumored when describing this man? I need facts, no insinuations.”
“We know Gregor Meritis was the Duke of Edensdowne and cousin to King Anilayus, but he later renounced his title in favor of his younger brother. We know he’d joined the Resistance and later fought against King Anilayus. We know he was a mage and scholar. Other than that, there are few facts I can find about his life. He was a very private man who preferred to stay in his labs and libraries—”
“Which were where?” Aerrin interrupted.
“An undisclosed location, according to this source. One more thing based on rumor.”
“Anything else?”
“Oddly enough, yes.” Nyssa flipped back a few pages. “It says here that the king thought fondly of him up until Gregor renounced his title. Afterward, Gregor wrote several long letters to him urging him to end the Great Hunts and negotiate peace with the other races. I wish I could read the originals contents, as the royal historian who wrote this is more than slightly biased. Also, the fight between the two men occurred as the Great Divide rose from the ground, where Anilayus fell to his death.”
“Does it say if he was murdered or if it happened by accident?”
“No, but I figured I could give Gregor Meritis the benefit of the doubt. They were almost like brothers, after all. Based on what I’ve read, I wouldn’t suspect him of committing cold-blooded murder.”
If she could give this man the benefit of the doubt, perhaps Aerrin should do the same with someone who could possibly be Gregor’s descendant. At least, until he had the chance to question Seroney further.
“And after reading all this, I’m beginning to wonder if that journal we found belonged to him. G.M.—Gregor Meritis.” Nyssa placed her finger between the pages to mark her place before closing the book. “May I ask why you’re so interested in this guy who lived centuries ago?”
“Because I want to know as much as I can about Seroney. This man is the only clue we have to her past other than her connection to Master Binnius, and I’m trying to determine her intent.”
“It shouldn’t matter who her ancestor was or what he did. That was centuries ago. People should be judged by who they are, not their origins. We already know she’s on the same side as you, or the Raven Bringer wouldn’t have murdered someone close to her.”
“But she deceived us about her origins and outright lied to me about her family name.”
“Because she probably knew you’d uncover all this about her ancestor and accuse her of trying to murder you.”
He grimaced when he realized how right she was. After months of seeing her as the enemy, he had to remind himself she might have as much reason to stop the Raven Bringer as he did. “But there’s still so many questions about her.”
“Then perhaps we should hold off making any more assumptions until we have a chance to ask her about them.”
Leandros slowed down to join them. “I only have one question. Does all of this interest in her stem merely for the preservation of your own life, or is there another reason?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Aerrin replied.
“Are you sure you aren’t checking out her bloodlines because you’re interested in forming an entirely different sort of alliance with her?” Insinuation practically dripped from his question. “Admit it—you think she’s pretty.”
“Yes, she is,” he said with caution, “but she’s also very distant. And she’s hiding something for a reason. That’s enough for me to be wary and not be blinded by her beauty.”
“Good. That means I can woo her without upsetting the king.”
Nyssa snorted. “What makes you think you can woo her when others have failed?”
“I’m much better looking than any of them.”
“And you think she’ll overlook all your faults because you’re conceited and have an altered perception of reality?”
“What’s the matter, Nyssa? Jealous?”
Nyssa lifted the heavy book and was about to whack Leandros in the head when Aerrin maneuvered his horse in between them. “Am I going to have to separate you two the rest of the way to the Academy?”
“She started it.”
In response, a bright blue flame of magic sparked from her fingertips.
Leandros tensed, preparing to dodge whatever spell she unleashed upon him.
Aerrin reached over and grabbed her hand. “Nyssa,” he warned.
The flame slowly faded, and Leandros visibly relaxed. He urged his mount forward to the front of the line.
Nyssa avoided his gaze. “He aggravates me to no end,” she whispered.
“I’m su
re it’s unintentional.” He’d concluded long ago that Nyssa and Leandros both secretly cared for each other. How else would they always know which buttons to push to infuriate the other? Sometimes he wished he could lock them up in a room for a few days and see if they worked out their differences. One day, they would either confess their feelings or end up killing each other.
“Believe what you want, then, Aerrin. I have more reading to do.” She opened the book again.
The sun was starting to set when they finally emerged from the pass. The faint outline of the Academy’s rooftops appeared on the distant horizon, a good three hours’ ride away, and the leader of the Royal Guard accompanying him asked if he wanted to find shelter for the night or continue.
Aerrin scanned his surroundings. He knew very little about demons, but he did know they were more powerful at night. If the Raven Bringer wanted to strike at him, that would be the time to do it. However, he also knew the Academy had powerful wards surrounding it, and they’d be far safer once inside its walls than anywhere along the road. “We press on,” he ordered.
The guards paused long enough to light their lanterns and followed his command.
As night fell, he began to regret his decision. Every shadow seemed to take on new life. Every rustle of the leaves, every snapping twig, increased the tense knot forming between his shoulder blades. Everywhere he looked, he imagined enemies. And the uneasy prickling sensation that ran up and down his spine warned him they weren’t alone.
Nyssa rode beside him, her book now stowed away. “It’s probably just nerves, but I feel like we’re being watched.”
“You, too?”
She nodded, her gaze sweeping left to right. “It’s not exactly malicious, per se, but it’s not entirely natural, either.”
He immediately thought of Raimel. If anyone fit that description, it was Ceryst’s friend. “Perhaps we’re getting some extra protection from a lone wolf or two,” he replied, using the code word for Ceryst. The knight had worn the symbol on his herald when he’d been the Knight Protector, and it still fit him to this day.
