Agents of the Crown- The Complete Series

by Lindsay Buroker

  Had the woman come in through some secret tunnel into the castle? Like the ones she lived in under the city? Zenia grimaced, imagining the guild’s tunnels extending all the way up to the top of the ridge to Alderoth Castle.

  “I don’t think so,” Jev said after a contemplative moment looking out the tall window to the gardens. “We’ll have to find that handbook to read up on what exactly our powers entail. Normally, one would expect one’s supervisor—or in our case, predecessor—to offer a briefing to help us get our wagons onto the highway, but since Garlok decided to take off for the full coronation holiday, I haven’t even seen him yet.”

  “Nor have I.” From what she’d heard about the man, Zenia wasn’t eager to see him.

  “I suppose I can make an excuse to go into Targyon’s office and check something. He and I were up late talking last night, so he shouldn’t be surprised if I ask for clarification on the discussion.”

  “You were with Targyon? When you came in wearing yesterday’s clothing…” Zenia waved up and down his form. “I thought you might have had some tryst with a woman and not gone home for the night.”

  “Would that have bothered you?”

  “No.”

  His eyebrows rose, and her cheeks threatened to heat again. Why did she feel compelled to lie to him in this matter?

  “Possibly slightly,” she amended, certain he knew she was lying. “This case is so important that we shouldn’t allow ourselves to be distracted by personal passions until it’s resolved.”

  “Me having passions is what would have bothered you? Not me sleeping with some random woman?”

  “Of course.” Zenia smiled weakly, wanting to change the subject. Maybe she should simply tell him that she had some feelings for him, but to what end? She shouldn’t act on them. Besides, in making the admission, it seemed like she would be giving him power over her. As a zyndar, didn’t he already have enough power over everything?

  “My days and nights have been full since I set foot on the continent again. No time to arrange trysts.” He smiled at her. “I’m still trying to get one particular woman to say yes to a date.”

  Which she definitely should not do. But she heard herself saying, “Perhaps after this case is solved and the king is safe, at least for the time being, that would be the appropriate time for the recreational pursuit of personal passions.”

  “Was that a yes?”

  She hesitated. A date didn’t necessarily have to lead to sex, did it? They could simply hold hands or do more of that lovely kissing they’d engaged in the other night.

  But what happened when he wanted to do more? She would have to tell him her stance on that matter. But, she decided as a butler walked past with a tray, this was not the place for it.

  “I never know what to think when you spend a long time contemplating these requests,” Jev said.

  “One shouldn’t rush into such decisions.”

  “Decisions such as whether or not you want to go to dinner with someone?”

  “That’s not so simple as you seem to think.”

  “Sure, it is. I’m a simple man.”

  She didn’t know if that was true or not. Was she the complicated one? Surely, his zyndar status added layers of complication, even if he had trouble seeing them himself.

  “I accept your offer of a date,” she said formally.

  “Excellent. As soon as I recover from my shock and delight, I’ll check on Targyon. Maybe I’ll ask him for clarification on some of the research from last night.”

  “Research?” Zenia asked.

  “Yes, we ended up in the castle library together for hours, looking up his ancestors to see which ones of them died young. There were quite a few. Unfortunately, we didn’t find any mentions of diseases of the blood or any other kind that were known to afflict Alderoths in the past.”

  “You were in the library doing research without me?” Zenia propped her fists on her hips.

  Jev lifted his eyebrows. “Is it odd that you’re more distressed about that than when you thought I was having a tryst with a woman?”

  “No, it’s not. Why didn’t you come get me to help? I would have loved to do research in the great library here.”

  “My apologies.” He bowed. “It was late, and I don’t even know where you’re living now.”

  Zenia lowered her hands. It was true that she couldn’t be irked with him if he didn’t know how to find her. “In a room I rented behind an old farmhouse near the city gate.” She decided not to mention that the room was above the stable. She had chosen it over ones available in the house because she liked privacy, but she realized admitting to living in a converted hayloft might make her sound impoverished. “I don’t have access to a horse or wagon right now, so I didn’t want anything far from the castle.”

  “I think as one of the king’s Crown Agents, you can use the horses in the castle stable.”

  Zenia was less certain about that. Riding them during the workday seemed reasonable, but taking one home each night?

  “I’ll give you my new address today,” she said, skirting the issue.

  “So I know where to pick you up for our date?”

  “So you know where to find me if you’re doing intriguing research in libraries.”

  “Should our date involve research in libraries? That sounds more like work than pursuing passions to me, but perhaps if we took a picnic basket and ate amid the scrolls…”

  “That does sound more appealing than other dates I’ve been on.” Not that there had been many. At least not in recent years. She’d been a normal teenager, experimenting with the boys her age around the temple, but those relationships had never advanced as far as she feared Jev, long out of his teenage years, would expect things to go.

  But not, she assured herself, on a first date.

  “I aim to please you.” Jev bowed again and turned toward the exit, but he paused and turned back. “I told Targyon I’d visit a zyndar mad scientist—his description—whose land is about thirty miles outside of the city. He suggested her as a resource for information on the disease. I have a list of symptoms here.” He patted his breast pocket again. “Targyon even suggested she might have been the one to design the disease, if such was done, because of her background. Do you want to come?”

  “Yes,” Zenia said promptly.

  “I’m noticing that it’s much easier to get you to agree to visit suspects with me than it is to agree to dates.”

  “What kind of inquisitor—agent of the Crown—would I be if I didn’t jump at the chance to visit suspects?”

  “Oh, I agree that such is expected. I just need to figure out how to get you to jump at the chance to date me.”

  “Keep talking about picnics in libraries, and that could happen.” Zenia smiled at him.

  “I’ll remember that. I’ll arrange for a steam carriage. We better head out in the next hour or so, so we don’t arrive too late in the day for polite interrogation.”

  “I can arrange it,” Zenia said, though she didn’t yet have an idea how that was done or if the king’s agents had free access to his vehicle house. “You go spy on that meeting.”

  “Spy? I said I’d check on it.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “I won’t be crawling on my belly and peeking under the door.”

  “Is that unseemly for a zyndar?”

  “I should think so.” Jev held her gaze and brushed her cheek with his finger.

  Her skin came alive at the brief touch and the way his eyes promised more. She shouldn’t want more, she reminded herself, but when he turned and strode for the exit, she couldn’t help but gaze after him and wish he’d done more than touch her cheek. Perhaps a kiss like the one they’d shared in his castle…

  A servant passing through lifted his eyebrows, catching her looking fondly at Jev’s back side—and his backside. Zenia jerked her chin up in her most professional manner and stalked off to figure out how to arrange the use of a steam carriage.

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nbsp; 8

  Jev didn’t truly want to barge in on Targyon’s meeting, but a part of him believed the worries of the other agents were justified. He’d seen through Iridium’s attempts at manipulation easily enough, but if he had been twenty-two like Targyon, he might have been so delighted by the attention of a beautiful woman that he wouldn’t have. Or he might have been aware of her desire to manipulate but believed himself too clever to be entrapped. Targyon could, as Jev had told Zenia, have almost any woman he wished now, but he probably hadn’t realized that yet.

  When Jev walked into Targyon’s outer office, a secretary sitting at the desk lifted his head from a notebook. Two stolid bodyguards stood on either side of the closed door behind him. Jev had a feeling they wouldn’t let him walk in unopposed. He hoped a knock at the door, if the guards even allowed that, would disrupt any web Iridium might be weaving.

  “Zyndar Jevlain Dharrow, Captain of His Majesty’s Crown Agents,” he announced to the secretary, though he believed the man had seen him before and knew everyone in the castle. “I need to see His Majesty briefly. I’m leaving the city shortly, and it can’t wait.”

  “Yes, Zyndar.” The secretary jumped to his feet. “I’ll see if he’s available.”

  Jev blinked as the man strode toward the door. Almost rushed to the door. The bodyguards frowned at each other, but they didn’t stop the secretary when he knocked.

  Jev realized the man was concerned about what was going on inside the office. Maybe he’d even hinted to the page that he needed Jev or someone up here who knew the king and might help.

  “Yes?” came a muffled call from inside.

  “We’re busy,” came a second and distinctively feminine call.

  “Zyndar?” The secretary stepped aside, gesturing for Jev to open the door.

  He wasn’t going to open it himself and announce Jev? What was this? The secretary wanted someone else to take the brunt of Targyon’s ire if their young king didn’t wish to be interrupted?

  Jev couldn’t imagine Targyon yelling at anyone, including his secretary, even if he was interrupted in the throes of passion. By the founders, Jev hoped no throes of any kind were going on.

  Wordlessly, he stepped past the secretary, who regarded him with a mix of relief and hope, and opened the door. Maybe it was a good thing the man was worried about his new king.

  Jev poked his head in before entering all the way. He looked past the two empty chairs facing the great olive wood desk and to the one behind it, one occupied by two people.

  Iridium sat in Targyon’s lap, her arms hooked around his shoulders. She looked at Jev, her expression not unlike that of a fox that had just stolen eggs from the henhouse. Targyon, who also looked at Jev, wore an expression more like that of a rabbit about to be eaten by a fox.

  “I just wanted to double-check before I leave, Sire,” Jev said, not commenting on their position. “Is the zyndari doctor likely to be found at her family’s castle? Or does she have a townhouse in the city or other residence?”

  “I…” Targyon tried to shift Iridium off his lap, but she had an iron grip on his shoulders.

  Fortunately, she slipped off his lap of her own accord, folding her arms over her chest and glaring at Jev. “Zyndar Jevlain Dharrow, I don’t know what made you think you could interrupt this meeting, but I’m already displeased with you. Extremely displeased.”

  “I don’t know why.” Jev looked at Targyon again, trying to tell if he was all right. Targyon hurried to stand on the other side of the chair, perhaps worried she would lock him down again if he remained seated. “I wasn’t the one to drill holes into your lair or cause rockfalls. I simply walked out when the door conveniently opened for me. You’ll recall I did not give you my word that I wouldn’t try to escape.”

  “Lair?”

  That was the word she objected to most from his account?

  “Subterranean domicile?” he suggested.

  “Palace, I should think. Do you know that in addition to reinforcing and cleaning all the old tunnels, my people have built miles of new passages. Why, I can travel all over the city if I wish. Even to remote hilltop locations.” Iridium smiled at Targyon.

  He shifted to the end of his desk, putting a couple more feet between them.

  “Are you sure you should detail your hideout so thoroughly in front of the king? And one of his law enforcement agents? We might believe it prudent to capture you and your people for a long stay in a short cell.”

  Iridium’s smile only widened, no hint of concern in her eyes. “The king and I were just discussing how invaluable an ally I could be to him and that it would be terribly foolish to interfere with my various interests in the city and the kingdom. But should he or his agents not realize that…” The smiled turned into something feral as her eyes narrowed to slits, and Jev thought of foxes again. “You’ll find that we have taken measures to protect our borders. Without the help of a master dwarf craftsman, you would find it difficult to reach us before we could escape. And we would be most put out if we had to relocate.” Her dangerous eyes shifted toward Targyon.

  He’d recovered his equanimity and merely leaned a hip against the desk and regarded her blandly.

  “I’d try the castle first, Jev,” Targyon said. “Her mother lives there and can tell you where she’s gone if she’s not there, but I believe her lab is in the basement. Since she was exiled from the university, it seems likely she is living and working out there.”

  Iridium listened intently as they spoke. Jev had deliberately not used Nhole’s name, and he noticed Targyon also left it out. However, if the person responsible for killing the princes had used a zyndari doctor, even their vagueness would be enough to light signal fires. Jev watched Iridium’s face closely.

  “Thank you for that information, Sire,” Jev said. “That’s all I needed to know. We’ll head up there soon.”

  Iridium’s expression grew more guarded. Jev couldn’t tell if she had an idea what they were talking about or not. Too bad. It would have been nice to know if the Fifth Dragon had anything to do with the deaths or if they knew who had.

  Jev wished Zenia still had a dragon tear. He would like to interrogate Iridium, if only casually. He would have to find out if others in the agents’ office had dragon tears they could use for reading minds and detecting truths.

  “I have another appointment soon, Javala,” Targyon told Iridium.

  She flinched at the name. Her real one? Judging by her reaction, she hadn’t been the one to give it to Targyon.

  “I’ll keep your words in mind,” Targyon added as he gestured toward the door.

  “And my offer, I’m certain.” Iridium glanced at his belt—no, his crotch.

  Jev didn’t roll his eyes since his father had long ago informed him that such immaturity was unbefitting a zyndar. But he couldn’t resist commenting. “An offer to make him number twenty-eight?”

  Targyon lifted his eyebrows.

  “She has notches on her bedpost,” Jev explained.

  “Were you twenty-seven?” Targyon asked.

  “I was not, due to the interruption I mentioned.”

  Iridium, perhaps irritated by them chatting about her while she stood in the room, strode toward the door. But she skewered Jev with her gaze on the way out and said, “It’s twenty-nine now, Dharrow. Don’t think you’re the only sexy zyndar I can lure to my—”

  “Lair?” he interrupted.

  She smiled again, but her eyes closed to those dangerous slits. He couldn’t bring himself to feel daunted by her, no matter how powerful and well-connected she was in the underworld. Maybe that made him a fool, but after dealing with the very magical and very deadly Taziir, she seemed a mundane threat in comparison.

  “I advise you to watch your back,” she murmured, pausing at his shoulder. “Nobody cared about you when you were some rural zyndar plumping your grapes and swilling wine, but my element doesn’t care much for agents of the Crown. If we must endure them at all, we prefer they be old, fat, and
easily bribed.”

  The glare she shot over her shoulder to Targyon seemed triumphant.

  Without another word, she walked out, offering a sexy, “Hello, boys,” to the bodyguards as she passed. Someone shut the door.

  Targyon sighed. “I guess that was a confirmation that Zyndar Garlok isn’t to be trusted. He’s not exactly fat, but at sixty, Iridium might consider him old.”

  Old, fat, and easily bribed reminded Jev more of Brokko, the double-jowled agent who had leered at Zenia. He made a note to look into his past and his associations.

  “I’ll inform him of his retirement as soon as he returns from his holiday,” Targyon added.

  “I wouldn’t take anything Iridium says as confirmation of anything, Sire. I’m sure she lies more naturally than fish swim.”

  “Yes,” Targyon murmured and glanced at his chair.

  Had Iridium been lying to him about something while she’d been in the process of… How had he let himself end up with her in his lap? Jev was tempted to ask, but he reminded himself that Targyon was his king now, not his junior officer. He shouldn’t pass judgment or question him. And definitely not lecture him. He ought to go now and do his duty, nothing more.

  “Did you invite her here or did she invite herself?” Jev asked.

  So much for going.

  “I didn’t invite her, but I could have chosen not to let her in. I thought it might be educational to hear what she had to say.” Targyon rubbed a red spot on the side of his neck.

  Iridium hadn’t bitten him, had she? Or sucked overly enthusiastically…

  “I’ll bet,” Jev said.

  “It’s occurred to me that she or one of the guild leaders might have been behind my cousins’ deaths—I understand Prince Dazron was attempting to stamp them out this past year, since their influence had grown in the city, as had the murder rate.”

  “Huh.” Jev wished he had something more articulate to say. He shouldn’t need to get his intelligence from Targyon. Wasn’t it his job to dig everything up? “Some agents in the office do believe the criminal organizations may have played a role—or dictated a role. Zenia suspects the Orders since they specifically chose you. Also, we found all the archmages suspiciously out of town when we went by to interview them yesterday. They seem to have something to hide.”