“Are you going to talk with the woman glaring at you now or after she does something nefarious?” Rhi asked, joining Zenia near the fountain.
Zenia had chosen the spot so she would be out of the way. Dharrow Castle was a large rambling structure of several stories, but it wasn’t as large as the king’s castle, and the courtyard felt busy with all the soldiers and many of the local men milling around.
“I’m hoping to ignore her.” Zenia was aware of the zyndari woman—she’d gone to put on a dress and had returned recently—standing in a doorway and watching as Heber discussed who knew what with Krox. Judging by the way they were gesturing toward the castle walls, they disagreed with Jev’s suggestion to stay put.
“She looks like she’s plotting something,” Rhi said. “Want me to thump her?”
“She’s zyndari.”
“So? I’m only allowed to thump commoners?”
“Technically, you’re not supposed to thump anyone without provocation.”
“That glare is definitely provocative.”
Zenia wrapped her fingers around her dragon tear. She would talk to the zyndari woman eventually, but she was more worried about those elves, especially now that Jev had gone off without any magical protection, other than what the injured Lornysh could call upon.
She closed her eyes and thought of the vision her dragon tear had shared that morning, of the elves watching the castle from afar.
Do you know what they wanted? she asked silently, hoping the gem would understand.
But she received the mental equivalent of a shrug. Hm.
Is there anything in the castle that could interest elves? Something magical?
The dragon tear showed her the hidden vault in Jev’s grandmother’s crafts room. It was dark and dusty, apparently not having been disturbed since the woman had been exiled. The vision shifted, showing her the inside of the vault and the dragon tears inside.
Thanks, but I knew about those magical items. Anything else?
Zenia tried to envision glowing artifacts. She had no idea what type of magical item might be here, but she needed to communicate in a way the dragon tear would understand. It didn’t seem to speak the kingdom tongue. It never responded with words, only with emotions or images, so she assumed it responded to her emotions and the images she conjured in her mind.
A triumphant feeling came from the dragon tear. Because it understood? Or because it understood and had something for her?
She rose onto the balls of her toes and tightened her grip on the gem, hoping for enlightenment.
Rhi elbowed her. “Trouble coming.”
Zenia shook her head, keeping her eyes shut, not wanting to pull her attention from the dragon tear. In her mind’s eye, she left the courtyard, her point of view again from above, as if she were flying. She swept through familiar stone passageways toward the kitchen and laundry rooms in the back of the castle, but then she descended stairs she hadn’t been down before. She passed a wine cellar, storage rooms, and a dungeon and interrogation chamber with tools far dustier than anything in the grandmother’s suite. She hoped that meant that the Dharrows hadn’t needed to interrogate anyone for many, many generations.
A hidden door opened in the back of the dungeon, cobwebs falling to the ancient stone floor. Her vision took her down dark stairs caked with dust and through passages built at the beginning of the thousand-year-old castle’s history, or maybe before. A rockfall lay ahead, but somehow the vision pushed between the rocks and into more dark passageways beyond it. A dark chamber lay ahead, and she sensed something magical lay within it.
“What can we do for you, Zyndari? Zyndar?” Rhi asked loudly, elbowing Zenia again. “Wake up,” she hissed.
Zenia hadn’t yet seen what the dragon tear wished to show her and didn’t want to push away the vision, but Rhi gripped her shoulder and shook her. The vision dissipated, and Zenia growled in frustration as she opened her eyes.
Heber Dharrow and Zyndari Bludnor stood in front of her.
“What magic are you employing, woman?” Heber demanded.
Bludnor squinted at Zenia. Her fingers were wrapped around her own dragon tear, and once again, Zenia saw a faint tendril of energy tethering Heber to her—to it.
“I’m trying to figure out what the enemy elves may be seeking inside your castle. And my name is Zenia Cham.” She made herself curtsey and add, “It’s good to meet you again, Zyndar Dharrow.”
“I know your name. I will speak with you in private.” Heber glared at Rhi and at the fountain gurgling beside her, maybe fantasizing about kicking her in as payback. “Now.”
“Zenia?” Rhi asked, not budging.
Did “in private” mean with his zyndari puppet master standing beside him? Zenia gave Bludnor a pointed look.
“My son asked for this,” Heber told the woman. “Leave us for a few minutes, please.”
He was much more polite with her than with Zenia and Rhi.
Bludnor didn’t look like she wanted to budge any more than Rhi did.
“I’ll be right over there if you need my help,” she said.
Heber sniffed and jerked his chin up. “I do not need anyone’s help to talk to a woman.”
Bludnor’s elegantly plucked eyebrows twitched, but she did not respond otherwise. She ambled to the other side of the fountain and sat on it with her back to them. The water splashing into the pool ought to ensure she couldn’t overhear them, but Zenia had no doubt her dragon tear would help her spy.
You’re more powerful than her dragon tear, right? she asked her gem, starting to follow the silent words up with thoughts that would convey the same. But there was no need.
Her dragon tear understood perfectly and shared an image of Bludnor’s gem exploding under a surge of power. Then it shared a hopeful feeling, like a dog eager to be let off its leash.
Zenia had faith that her dragon tear truly was more powerful, not that it was overconfident. Good.
“Give us a few minutes, Rhi.” Zenia touched her friend’s arm. “Thanks.”
“Fine. I’ll just go stand over there.” She pointed her bo at a flagstone mere feet from Bludnor.
“What’s your price, woman?” Heber asked when they were alone.
Zenia blinked. “What?”
“To leave my son alone. Look, you’re a beauty. I’m not blind. I see why he wants you, but you will not wed him. I’m not going to have common children that wouldn’t be suitable heirs for Dharrow Castle and all that it oversees. A lot of people depend on us. I won’t have them abandoned to inferior children after Jev and I are gone.”
Zenia clenched her teeth. She wanted to go back to investigating whatever lay beneath the castle, but she had to deal with this prejudiced bastard first. But how? If she treated him like an enemy and responded to his comments the way she wanted to—the suggestion that she would birth inferior children infuriated her—it would do nothing to help their cause. As much as she loathed the idea of kowtowing to him, she had to try to win him over, or at least win his grudging acceptance. If she was a jerk to him, he would never let Jev marry her.
“How much do I have to pay you to leave him?” Heber added. “I’m sure you have some dream of being made zyndari and living the noble life, but it won’t happen. With money, you can still buy a life of ease and some townhouse in the city.” His lip curled, and she sensed how much it galled him to make this offer, how startled he’d been when Jev had been willing to give up his inheritance and his title for her.
“I don’t want your money, nor do I wish to be zyndari,” Zenia said. “I love Jev because he appreciates me and makes me laugh. And he brings me flowers even though he’s colorblind and struggles to pick out ones that go together.” She smiled at the memory—and Rhi explaining how hard that task had been for Jev—even though she was as tense as a ramrod standing before Heber. “Honestly, I wish he wasn’t zyndar because then we could simply get married without having to deal with your… with zyndar politics.”
Heber’s eye
s narrowed. “You asked him to give up his birthright? His duties?”
“No, I wouldn’t do that. I know how much his honor and duties mean to him. But that doesn’t mean I don’t fantasize about how much easier it would be if we were both common and nobody cared about the quality of our children.” She tried not to clench her jaw again, and she reminded herself once more to be polite, but it was hard.
“He is not common. No amount of fantasizing will change that. He is my heir, my only son now, and it is his duty to marry a zyndari woman and have children who will take care of Dharrow land and its people after our passing. I want what’s best for him and for the family’s future.”
Zenia wished she could see that tether of control now, hinting that Bludnor was manipulating him into speaking this way, but it wasn’t there at the moment. These were Heber’s genuine thoughts.
“Is that why you’re letting that woman manipulate you with her dragon tear?” Zenia asked. “Because you think it’s best for him?”
Heber rocked back on his heels.
Zenia was surprised by his surprise. Had he truly not had any idea? Bludnor couldn’t be with him every moment. In the times when she’d been gone, he must have wondered if all the ideas she was giving him were truly his. Or were they in such close alignment that her manipulation didn’t matter?
“She’s the one you should be worried about,” Zenia said. “Not me. I don’t want anything from you or your estate. I’d be happy to sign paperwork to ensure I never get anything if you wish. I just want Jev to be happy, and I’d like to be happy with him, but if I had to choose his happiness over mine, I’d like to see him…”
The magical tether reappeared as Zyndari Bludnor squinted over her shoulder at them.
Heber didn’t seem to notice it—it was only because of her dragon tear that Zenia noticed—but his lips tightened, and she saw an objection leap into his eyes.
Stop it, please, she silently said to her dragon tear, while envisioning an axe chopping the magical tether.
The gem warmed against her chest, and she sensed a substantial burst of magic rush out of it.
Bludnor yelped and sprang to her feet.
“Ow, ow!” she shouted and tore her dragon tear away from her chest, breaking the thin gold chain that held it. She cried out again and threw it in the fountain, then looked at her hand. A scorch mark was visible on her palm.
A smug satisfied feeling came from Zenia’s dragon tear.
“You attacked her!” Heber lunged forward and snatched Zenia’s arm, startling her.
“No. I was defending you.”
Rhi ran toward Heber, raising her bo.
“No, don’t,” Zenia barked, trying to shift to stand between them as she raised her free hand.
But Heber held her too tightly. Anger flared in Rhi’s dark eyes, and she looked like she would shove Zenia into the fountain if she had to in order to crack Heber over the head.
Her dragon tear flared with blue light, and a wave of power blew outward. Rhi, Heber, and Bludnor were flung backward, along with a couple of nearby soldiers. They sailed several feet and landed on their hips or butts with startled cries.
A rumble sounded, and the ground shook. Hard.
Zenia wobbled, bumping against the lip of the fountain, and almost ended up in the water.
“What are you doing?” she blurted to her dragon tear as the ground continued to shake.
She grabbed the gem, but it had cooled off, and she sensed surprise from it. It may have flung the people threatening her away to keep her from harm, but it wasn’t the reason the ground was shaking. And continuing to shake.
Zenia gripped the lip of the fountain for support. The soldiers in the courtyard spread their legs and arms, trying to keep their balance and remain upright.
Heber rose to a sitting position, his eyes like chips of ice as he glared at Zenia. He thought she was responsible for this.
“It’s not me,” she blurted.
A vision encroached, and she saw that dark chamber under the castle again. The magic that her dragon tear had sensed was growing stronger—coming to life. A crimson glow pushed back the shadows as it grew brighter and brighter.
By the founders, were the elf wardens responsible for that? She remembered the golem from the tower. Were they raising some other magical creature? Something that would threaten all of Dharrow Castle?
“Get her!” Heber roared and pointed straight at Zenia. “Guards!”
Rhi leaped to her feet and stood protectively in front of Zenia. She raised her bo, but guards with rifles ran down from the ramparts and toward them.
Zenia wanted to explain, but she sensed the magic growing stronger down below, the threat increasing. “Rhi, come with me.”
She sprinted for the door that led to the kitchen. Thank the founders, Rhi didn’t argue. She raced after Zenia.
Without being asked, the dragon tear created a barrier around them. Zenia half-expected the guards to fire, to treat her like a known enemy invader. She lamented that the progress she’d started to make with Heber had likely been destroyed and that he now believed her a threat, not only to his son but to his entire castle.
The ground quaked harder, tossing her against a stone wall as she ran. A thud sounded behind her, and Rhi cursed.
Zenia made herself keep going. She remembered that she’d seen a rockfall blocking the way and worried she wouldn’t be able to get down to the source of the magic in time. Even if she could, would one dragon tear be enough to thwart whatever powerful elven magic or creature was down there?
15
Jev paced while Cutter and Lornysh set traps, occasionally going over to hold something when they asked for assistance. The soldiers were playing chips and smoking, the scent of their cigars pungent and out of place among the earthy vegetation of the woods.
“I’m beginning to think you’re not as enticing a piece of bait as you thought you were,” Jev said to Lornysh’s back.
His friend was crouching, tying branches together in a loop.
“We haven’t been here that long,” Lornysh replied without glancing back.
The light grew dimmer. Jev looked up, thinking a cloud had passed over the sun, but so little light filtered down through the leaves that it wouldn’t have mattered. He realized the massive magical stone had stopped glowing.
Lornysh frowned over at it.
“Does that mean something?” Jev asked.
“It’s gone inactive,” Lornysh said.
“Does that mean something?” Cutter asked, his beard dusting the grass as he worked on some trap of his own.
Lornysh stood and considered the stone. “Assuming it was used shortly before we arrived, enough time has passed for it to go back to its dormant state.”
“So the elves came, used it, and left already?” Jev knew Lornysh had implied that before. What he didn’t know was if his friend’s presence would lure the elves back again.
Lornysh spun away from the stone as if he’d heard something. He stared into the trees. Jev dropped a hand to his pistol.
“Someone coming?” he whispered.
“All of a sudden, I sense a great deal of magic,” Lornysh said.
Cutter stood. “I feel it too.”
Jev felt nothing, but humans didn’t have any innate magic or senses for magic. “Where?”
Cutter and Lornysh gave each other a long look. A long knowing look.
“Where?” Jev repeated, his stomach sinking.
“The castle,” Lornysh said.
Jev almost asked if it might be Zenia using her dragon tear, but if she had a reason to call upon that much magic, something was wrong. Very wrong.
“Back to the castle,” he barked to the soldiers, then raced toward the gully, not waiting for Lornysh to lead the way. He felt like an idiot for having come out here in the first place.
Foliage crunched under heavy boots as the soldiers followed him back down the gully. Men cursed as they slipped on the rocks in the dry creek. Despite the
injury that had to be hampering him, Lornysh glided over them and passed Jev. His face was grim with determination, and Jev thought he glimpsed a flash of guilt in his eyes.
As they turned into the wider valley that led back to the spot where they had left their horses, Jev wanted to tell his friend that he’d chosen to be a part of this fight, that he still wanted to make sure these vengeful asses didn’t kill Lornysh.
But Lornysh halted before they came out of the trees and threw up his arms in an abrupt gesture.
The horses were gone, their tethers all cut, but it wasn’t until Lornysh drew his sword and spun toward the valley slope that Jev saw the real threat. The elf with the icy silver sword stood up there. Vornzylar.
He wasn’t wielding his sword; he gripped a drawn bow. Leaves stirred around him—the rest of his buddies?
“Find cover!” Lornysh yelled.
He sprinted toward the opposite valley wall and dove for a boulder.
Vornzylar loosed an arrow. It spun into the ground, missing Lornysh by inches.
“Cover,” Jev repeated the order, scrambling up the same slope, hoping the tree trunks up there were thick enough to protect the soldiers from arrows.
Some of the soldiers returned fire, the reports from their rifles filling the valley. It was a mistake. The elves were shooting from the high ground and from behind cover. They loosed arrows relentlessly while the soldiers’ bullets thudded harmlessly into wood.
A man cried out as Jev ducked behind a tree. He glimpsed the soldier grasping an arrow sticking out of his chest and winced.
“Cark, get your men behind cover!” Jev yanked out his pistol and leaned out from behind his tree, hoping for an opening to fire at Vornzylar.
Arrows continued to rain down from the opposite side of the valley, but the elves were so well hidden that the projectiles seemed to come from the trees themselves.
Three soldiers lay on the valley floor, arrows in their chests or eyes, the deadly precision terrifying. The rest of the men had reached the trees, but Jev didn’t know if it would be enough.
He glimpsed movement, an elf leaning out to shoot. One of the males he’d battled in the tower.
Agents of the Crown- The Complete Series Page 104
