by R. K. Thorne
Not far enough to the side, apparently—a sharp pain sank into his left bicep. But his bicep was better than his chest.
He did not slow down. Lady Toyl was still in the hallway, speaking with Lord Alikar and Dvora Renala a few dozen feet from the door. Aven collided with Renala but spun her around, leaving her upright. Unfortunately, Devol was less lucky and sent Alikar reeling. The master of arms kept running and didn’t look back, though. Probably glad to have an excuse to knock the bastard around a bit.
There were no longer two identical figures racing away down the hallway. Instead, two black birds flew faster than Aven’s feet would take him.
He raced around the corner of the hall, heading away from the cave-in, the birds putting distance between them. What kind of birds were those?
They turned another corner. Several precious moments later, he turned after them.
Nothing. The hallway was completely empty.
Aven ran anyway, his eyes searching, desperate for some clue. Dev caught up with him.
“Gone? Really?” Devol panted. “I ran all that for nothing?”
“They have to be here. Maybe they’ve become something very small—like a spider or something.”
They searched up and down that hallway and a piece of the next. Toyl, Alikar, and Renala strode up as they searched, looking at their frantic, panting forms with confusion.
Finally Dev said, “I don’t see anything. There’s nothing here.”
“Was that—did they just try to kill you?” blurted Renala.
Aven nodded, too exhausted to form words for her.
“And you lost them?” Alikar said matter-of-factly.
“Was that—who I thought it was? I thought—” Renala started.
“Creature mages,” Aven panted, cutting her off. “Both disguised. Probably hiding now. Tiny. Fly or something?” From the bewildered expression on their faces, Aven did not think they understood, nor did he care to explain it.
“Well, this is a hell of a day, isn’t it?” Devol grumbled.
Yes, what a coincidence the cave-in happened so closely timed with this attack. Sure. Or—more likely—it was no coincidence. But he kept those thoughts to himself.
From behind Toyl, he heard footsteps. They all turned to see Miara and his mother approaching. “What’s going on?” Elise started.
“Aven—what happened?” Miara lurched toward Aven, spotting his arm.
Lord Alikar stepped in front of her. “Wait just a minute. I know what I saw.” Alikar leveled a dark glower at Miara.
“Guards,” called Toyl.
“Take her into custody,” Alikar ordered.
“Now, hold on there—” Aven started.
“What are you talking about, Vitig?” Elise glanced around, deftly invoking Toyl’s first name.
“My lords, there is more to this—” Devol started.
“I saw it with my own eyes. She tried to assassinate the prince,” Alikar said, his words slow and measured.
Trap. This was a trap. Alikar hadn’t been outside that door by coincidence, had he?
“It was not her, the mages were using her as a disguise,” Devol said. “There were two of them that looked identical. At the very least, one of them was a fake.”
“Release her now,” Aven started, but he suddenly felt weak. He sagged against the wall, closing his eyes. An icy cold blossomed in his chest—was someone draining his energy even now?
“Let me heal him!” Miara’s voice was savage. A scuffle sounded, and Aven tried to open his eyes, but they were too heavy.
“Stay away from him.” Alikar’s voice, by contrast, was calm, collected, a man full of hate.
“Come, now—two of them!” Dev pressed. “Looked just like her. And neither of them as bloody, by all the ancient ancestors. There’s magic afoot, they’re trying to impersonate her.”
Aven reached out into the air around him, snatching a bit of energy to replenish whatever had been ripped away. He would really need to learn to not allow that to happen. Soon. He opened his eyes again, feeling a little stronger.
Lady Toyl had sobered and frowned, seeming to consider the situation. Aven took it as a good sign that she seemed to be defending him, or trying to. Why bother helping an heir if you didn’t want him to sit on the throne? He supposed it could be just human decency or faith in the rule of law—no one deserved to be outright murdered, even if you didn’t want them as your king. But then, Alikar’s presence made him wonder. Could they both have somehow been involved? Was it all a ruse to distract from that fact, or to get a secondary outcome they wanted? Toyl angled to get him in the right place, and then they both waited to see the job had been finished? Toyl did not seem the type to work with Alikar, though, or take orders from anyone like him, but Aven did not dismiss the possibility. If Alikar could be bought, a merchant from Dramsren should have a price too, shouldn’t she?
“It would still be prudent to arrest the mage until we sort this out,” Lady Toyl said finally.
“Please—let me heal him first,” Miara insisted.
Aven finally managed to speak up. “I’m getting better, Miara. It’s all right, just a momentary weakness. Toyl, do you really think that’s necessary?”
“My lord, it is up to you,” she said, finally showing a bit of deference. “I won’t go against your wishes, but for your safety, I think we must understand this situation more fully.”
“We must detain her in the dungeon.” The dark tone to Alikar’s words twisted Aven’s stomach. In the dungeon, others could gain access to her… in a variety of ways. They shouldn’t, but guards could also be bought. Drugged. Hit over the head.
“Detain me all you like, but I’m a creature mage,” Miara reminded him with disdain.
“I believe you’ve only just started my lessons on just exactly what that is, mage,” Toyl replied sourly. Was there a hint of disgust in calling her a mage, or was it simply this situation?
“Creature mages can shift into any animal or plant. I didn’t demonstrate it today because it’s energy intensive and only really good for close-contact fighting. Not in a war. So for someone who can shape-shift into a mouse, bars are not a very reliable restraint.”
Alikar scowled. “Doesn’t sound like there is a reliable restraint for you.” Aven couldn’t shake the impression that he said the words with a bit too much relish, too much desire to restrain her. Was this just some barely hidden lust, or did he have more of a plan?
“You won’t be able to trust or prove that I haven’t escaped and returned, so that won’t help you understand our situation any better. I wouldn’t escape, mind you, but if you don’t trust me not to have tried to kill Aven, then I don’t expect you to trust me with that either.” Her voice tensed over his name, crackling with an energy that those paying attention might understand. It gave away everything if one listened for such things, and indeed Toyl’s eyes caught on his, holding nothing but concern. Miara’s tone said, Aven of all people, Aven who I’ve risked my life for, you stupid fools. He didn’t mind hearing it after seeing that twisted, snarling apparition of her face. This was the real Miara, here before him. He toyed with pointing out she could have also killed him a dozen different ways on the way here but hadn’t. So that hardly made sense either. She was just a perfect disguise.
But… they had more pressing matters. He could demand Miara’s freedom and dismiss their concerns completely, but at this point, that might be interpreted as irrational or irresponsible, especially by Toyl. Not the best way to win their good faith as their leader. And if Alikar had some scheme that involved getting Miara imprisoned somewhere and getting to her—Aven wanted to thwart that completely before he had the chance.
“Her rooms then, under constant guard,” Aven ordered. “Devol will take up part of the watch and oversee. If we keep constant watch, we’ll know for sure.”
Miara’s eyes widened, and he felt a pang in his chest. She didn’t understand he knew she hadn’t done this. The fear in her eyes spoke volumes, t
hat even he might believe this was real. How could he give her some indication that this was all to spite any nefarious plan of Alikar’s? If only he could dip into her thoughts the way she could dip into his.
“If she wanted to kill him, why would she come strolling up casually just after the attempt?” Devol grumbled.
“Perhaps she meant to throw us off by returning quickly,” Toyl said.
“She’s been with me the whole time,” Elise snapped.
“Well, there were two of them.” Alikar, damn him.
Aven sighed. “Enough. You heard my orders. Dev—choose the guards yourself, please. Don’t worry, we’ll get to the bottom of this, Miara. Toyl, will you escort Devol and these guards to her quarters so you can see that this is carried out?”
“Of course, my lord.” Toyl gave a bowing nod.
“I’m not leaving until your arm is on the way to healed,” Dev insisted. “Can one of these mages use that fancy magic on you now?” He was right. After that attempt, it probably wasn’t the best idea to hobble around alone and injured.
“I’ll stay with Aven too,” Elise said, releasing Miara into the guard’s grip. A knot in his stomach tightened at the sight.
“Fine,” Aven grunted. The weakness returned, and he slumped against the wall again. Hell, who was doing it? Where were those damn mages? “Miara, will you…”
“I’ll be fine.” Miara nodded to the guards, perhaps realizing the queen needed Miara’s captors to leave before Aven could be healed. “Will you come so we can talk about this later?”
“Of course.” Aven sank to a seat and watched them guide her away as his stomach twisted into further knots. He had a sinking feeling that putting her under guard was exactly what someone wanted them to do. She was not in the dungeons, and Dev would handpick her guards, but… that was just a dungeon of a different kind. Whoever had attacked him could just as easily attack her. Especially if they were a fly on the wall nearby, listening to all their carefully made plans.
Who could be behind this attack? His legion of enemies grew every day. While Toyl could be either friend or foe, Alikar simmered with hostility. And of course, the Dark Master would not be sitting idly by, accepting Aven’s escape and moving on to a different plan. His shoulder throbbed in phantom pain at the thought of that bastard. The timing, so close to the cave-in, could not be a freak event. Mages had to be the cause. Who was more likely to employ mages, his Akarian enemies or his foreign ones? Certainly Daes had far more mages to wield than the others. If Aven were the Dark Master, what would he be trying to do?
But even as the idea formed, he knew. Daes would be trying to kill him. Aven wouldn’t hire an assassin or force a mage slave to do such a thing on his behalf. But the Dark Master definitely would. And he would have more than one plan of attack in store so that if some of them failed, he would still have a chance at victory.
What would his other attacks be? How had they infiltrated Estun? Whose faces were behind those masks?
As he sat, pondering, his mother healed his arm without comment, only giving him a slight warning as she yanked the quarrel from his arm. For not being a warrior, she sure could handle blood. He put his hand over hers and squeezed it.
“We’ll figure this out, Aven,” Devol said, struggling to sound encouraging.
“Yes. We have to.”
Chapter 10
Truths & Accusations
Miara stripped off the bloody leathers and cast them aside, hoping they weren’t totally ruined and Camil would know what to do with them. The blood rinsed away, and she found a fresh tunic that she happily put on alone for once. Its softness was welcoming, to her surprise.
She tried to wait patiently for Aven to join her, to offer some explanation of what the hell had happened that had led to them bringing her back here. She alternated between sitting and pacing. As the minutes ticked by, she gradually succumbed to exhaustion and the lure of the cushions and drifted off to sleep.
She awoke to a knock on the door being answered by one of her courteous new guards. And if I hadn’t wanted to get up just now? She stifled a grumble to herself. It didn’t matter. They were right—she would have answered to see if it was Aven, or someone similar. And really, who else could it be?
She sat up. The door-answering guard was none other than Devol himself. And sure enough—her visitor was Aven, arm freshly healed, if still bloodied. He didn’t look pale from the blood loss, though. Small wins.
“What by the gods happened, Aven?” she demanded, still rubbing sleep from her eyes.
“Some harpies disguised as you tried to kill him,” Dev answered for him. “And I was lucky enough to walk in on the tussle. Good fun, if you ask me.”
“Says the one who walked out without a scratch.” Aven grinned.
“Oh, you liked it. You’re probably out there waving that arm around at every captain and young recruit you can find. You look just fine if you ask me. Gotta say that healing magic is powerful stuff. We’d be fools to turn our eyes from that outta some foolish religious nonsense. Not sure how keeping people alive is so evil.” Dev’s eyes darted around to the guards as he spoke, as though he was keen to the fact that many might disagree with such words. Was he testing them? Perhaps looking for those who might not be such a good fit for this post? Clever.
“At least one of them was a creature mage.” Aven came to sit beside her, and Dev joined them in a nearby chair. “Could have been both, but I don’t think so.”
“And you said they were disguised as me?”
Aven nodded. Damn. That was smart on their enemy’s part and took planning, preparation. “Of course, the Dark Master would think of such things.” Aven’s pale eyes studied the fireplace as he rubbed his shoulder absently. She wondered if it was truly healed yet. He had not let her speed their healing or repair the scars, though she could understand why.
“The Dark Master?” Devol asked.
“He was one of four masters in control of the slaves in Mage Hall,” Miara explained. “But the one most interested in Aven. The one who sent me on my mission—” She faltered, unsure of how much Aven and his family had really explained to anyone. “Also, he’s far more cunning than the others. I think they’d be content to live out easy lives, ordering us around and abusing their power. But not the Dark Master. He seems intent on something—I’m not sure what. At the very least, Aven’s death, although to what end?”
“Well, war with Akaria, for one thing,” Aven muttered. “And my personal death as part of that plan, partly because I’m a prince of Akaria. And partly because… I know magic he doesn’t want anyone to know.”
“The magic to free the slaves?” Devol asked.
“Yes.” Aven bowed his head. “So you think it had to be the Dark Master? What about one of these other lords, unhappy with recent revelations?”
“Why use me against you then? And how many of them have access to mages, let alone ones who could imitate my image well? You say it was convincing? Accurate?”
“Fairly. The face was, on both of them.”
“Could have fooled me, if there weren’t two of them,” Devol grumbled.
“The bodies were off. I don’t think it was a complete illusion,” Aven said.
“They probably couldn’t do that without having me in their custody to reference.”
“Don’t talk like that,” Aven said, shifting uncomfortably.
“Why not? I’m just trying to teach you what’s possible.”
“I don’t even want to think about it.” He shook his head and ran a hand over his face.
She took a risk and laid a hand on his arm for a moment. Without the slightest hesitation, he laid his hand over hers and squeezed. She wanted to laugh but stifled it into the smallest smile she could. He was really not very good at keeping secrets.
“And they got away, it seems?”
He nodded, scowling. “Think they transformed somehow to hide. They can’t just disappear, right?”
“No, they can’t. There have bee
n very rare stories of air mages figuring out how to disappear for very short periods of time, but they are probably just rumors. Who wouldn’t want their enemies to think they could be nearby and invisible? But even if it is possible, it’s not for creature mages.”
“I think the one that attacked was not a mage. Unless they were also a very good fighter. They seemed dedicated to the study.”
Miara shrugged. “It’s possible there were some good fighters among the mage slaves. I just don’t know.”
Devol cut in. “The one I fought just tried to dodge me, make herself smaller, faster. She was definitely a mage, form shifting this way and that. Quite a strange sight to behold. Wouldn’t fight me. But did you notice the choice of weapons on your opponent, Aven?”
“Yes, short sword and hand ax.”
A chill ran through Miara. “The same weapons that I practiced with yesterday morning.”
Aven frowned. “When?”
“In the Proving Grounds.”
“You didn’t mention it.”
She gave him a half smile. “I was hoping to surprise you. Perhaps with a duel. Not at this point, apparently!”
“She was far better than you, though,” Devol added. Miara glared at him in spite of herself. “No offense! You haven’t had much practice!”
She sighed. “I only know the dagger.”
“You’ll get there—don’t worry, my girl.”
“Don’t call me a girl.”
“He calls me a boy too. And my father. But cut it out, Devol.”
Dev wrinkled his mustache as though his nose were itchy and gave them a grin. “All right, all right. The point is, unless you’re great at hiding your ability, which is damn hard, that attacker was far more skilled than you with those weapons. And a lot of other weapons, I’d wager. Seems like they picked them specifically to impersonate you more convincingly.”
“Who else saw you two there?” Aven asked.
“Thel was there. Talking to Renala.” Miara’s gut twisted at the thought. Thel seemed like a good fellow, and rather innocent and naïve, as Aven had been—and in some ways still was. She’d hate to think he was behind this. And yet, he stood to benefit a lot from any downfall of Aven’s. He could claim he didn’t want the crown, but he could easily be lying. He had also sat talking with Renala—what if he had designs on the beautiful, graceful, noble dvora, and Aven was all that stood in his way? “How much do you trust your brother, Aven?”
