by TR Cameron
The Drow nodded. “I’ve refreshed my knowledge of Draksa since I first heard about you and researched more after I realized that you weren’t an ordinary member of your species. Most of your kind can’t talk in a way that non-Draksa can understand, for instance.”
“It seems natural to me. It was only in New Atlantis that I discovered the others couldn’t.”
“It’s certainly reasonable to assume that whatever makes you able to do the one might be involved in preventing you from doing the other. Or, if not so immediate a cause and effect, at least that they both stem from the same root. The problem is that it seems unlikely that we can dig into your memory to find out what that was.”
His snout moved from side to side in an almost entrancing way as he shook his head. “It doesn’t matter what it was. I’m happy with how things are now except that I want to be able to contribute more.”
She frowned. “So. In order to help you with this, I have to know more. And since you can’t tell me more, I’ll need to use magic to investigate you. May I have your permission to do so?” He nodded, and she grinned. “And you’re not worried about whether it will hurt or not? My last victim had issues in that area.”
Fyre snorted. “Whatever it takes, that’s what I’ll do. Cali trusts you. Diana and Rath clearly trust you. I see no reason not to do the same.”
The Dark Elf nodded. “I’ll be as gentle as I can be. If you need me to stop, say so.” He immediately curled on the floor and tucked his tail around his snout. It gave the impression that there was no chance he’d tell her to quit before she’d accomplished what he wanted. Her respect for the creature increased.
She stretched her magic out, enveloped him in it, and began to examine him without a particular goal in mind. Nylotte had learned over time that often, it was best to let the power flow with only the vaguest of intentions and trust that it would accomplish what was required—much the same approach she’d recommended to Cali for controlling lightning.
A distinct second energy radiated in him, like a strong memory that was too big to grasp. She would have thought it a geas, except it was ludicrous to think she’d run up against that twice in an hour and it also didn’t quite taste the same. It was less a command than a subtle prompt. Not a spell, she realized, but something that was completely internalized. It was unlike anything she’d come across before.
But that doesn’t mean I’m helpless in the face of it. She sought for the cracks in his mind to gain entry but found none. In the timeless place in which the magical experiment was conducted, she paused and considered her options. Finally, with a mental shrug, she tried to merge her magic with his at the outermost layer. It seemed to recognize her and permitted her access.
The problem was immediately obvious. The Draksa’s mind was locked in conflict as the additional energy struggled with his native self. She didn’t sense any antipathy or violence, only a mismatch of effort like rowers working against one another instead of in tandem. She couldn’t identify the source of the extra magic and had no idea how to banish it.
What she could do, though, was to help him strengthen certain barriers and loosen others, essentially relegating his passenger to a different and less vital part of his mind. She did so, little by little, and coaxed his magic gently to assist. When she was finished, the powers were more in balance, although not perfectly so. She backed out slowly and made sure she left solidity in her wake.
When she finally returned fully to her body and opened her eyes, he was seated across from her, staring. “What did you do?” he asked. “I can feel a change already but I can’t remember anything more.”
She shrugged, unexpectedly tired from her efforts. “You have more than one magical essence inside you. They were combining in unbalanced ways, so I helped you to create a less conflicted arrangement. I don’t promise it will last and I can’t say we’ve found the full solution, but it’s something.”
Fyre smiled, and enthusiasm radiated from him. “That’s what I felt. That makes sense now. And, yes, I think you’ve made things much better. Thank you. Thank you so much.” He turned, raced to the stairs, and plunged down them at high speed.
Nylotte forced herself upright. To no one in particular, she muttered, “Your friendly neighborhood Drow amateur doctor and veterinarian, now open for business.”
With a shake of her head, she followed the Draksa toward the basement. Hopefully, Cali hasn’t killed herself or Tanyith with the lightning. That would be a definite black mark on my teaching record.
Chapter Fourteen
Empress Shenni, in the deep blue formal robes more appropriate to the throne room she’d just left, smiled across the desk at her seneschal. The woman was many years older but still strong and attractive, clad in the palace’s basic black with a wide stripe of blue down the left side of her long, martial-cut dress.
“So, what’s this I hear about an altercation in the outer city?”
The other woman gave an answering grin. “It seems that a gang of mercenaries attacked the matriarch of House Leblanc and the patriarch of House Jehenel. It was most unexpected.”
She nodded. “Indeed so. I presume the outcome was positive?”
Gwyn shrugged. “It depends on your perspective, Empress. For those rumored to have engaged them—House Cormier—it was likely not the result they hoped for. The hired soldiers were defeated very effectively. I’m told the matriarch’s Draksa companion played a key role.”
“That is an odd twist,” Shenni replied and considered the creature that had bonded to the girl. “Has there ever been another occasion where the leader of one of the Nine had such a pet?”
The older woman chuckled. “More than a pet, certainly, Empress. But no, I found no record of such a pairing among the noble houses. Or in the palace.” The way she raised her eyebrow at the end suggested she’d once again seen into her ruler’s thoughts.
“Fine, yes, I might be a little jealous. It would be good to have such a companion as your responsibilities frequently take you from me. Plus, you’re hardly obedient.”
Gwyn laughed. “I obey to the degree my role requires, Empress. You could change my occupation, of course. I hear the consort position has yet to be filled.”
The Empress snorted and chuckled. “Although I do treasure you, that would be a choice made for politics, not for pleasure.” They both knew the other woman was only teasing but it was an amusing game. “Besides, you are too effective at what you do for me to even consider parting with your skills.”
“Then you are doomed to be alone until you choose another, Empress.” They both knew as well that she was only as lonely as she chose to be. She had no end of suitors to select from, all willing to serve for a night in hopes of gaining the prized plum of official recognition as her favorite.
She shook her head and frowned theatrically. “Woe, woe is me. So, what else do you hear?” The woman before her held the public role of seneschal, in charge of all things in the palace and responsible for making her ruler’s will manifest, but also quietly served as her spymaster.
Gwyn leaned forward conspiratorially, despite the fact that no one else was present in the room. Shenni trusted her so completely that even her guards were not in position within those walls. “Action between the Malniets and Leblanc, of course. Devaux and Surette are quiet. Some whispers about what might happen if Malniet is weakened enough, either inside or outside the rules. The same for Leblanc.”
“How many scions are left to House Malniet?”
“Three in the direct line. Some cousins who could be used as battle fodder.”
Shenni leaned back in her chair and steepled her fingers as she considered the ramifications. “So, we can expect at least a few more rounds of conflict unless young Caliste is defeated.”
Her seneschal nodded. “That’s my understanding of the situation.”
“And after that?”
“It is inconclusive.”
The Empress grinned. “Indulge me.”
The older
woman straightened and paused before she spoke. “If either house should fall, the most likely outcome is that one of the other Nine will install a secondary family line in its place. Most have been building toward such a possibility since the failed attempt to destroy Leblanc years ago, so I would expect conflict among them for the opportunity.”
She nodded. “Which works to my benefit. As long as they squabble with one another, they aren’t acting against me. But having two houses with shared blood could prove to be a future problem. What are the options there?”
Gwyn frowned, the question clearly not one she’d prepared an answer for. “The only option to avoid that would be to support a third-party effort to join the nobility. However, such a thing has not happened since we set foot in New Atlantis.”
Shenni waved a hand to dismiss that concern. “The Nine have been stagnant that whole time. Perhaps this is the right moment for new blood. Let’s say that was something we wanted to promote. How might we do so?”
“The first step would certainly be to discover if there are any likely candidates. I shall start that process immediately.”
The Empress leaned forward again. “But do so quietly—ever so quietly. We can’t risk losing the support of the houses we trust, nor pushing away the ones whose loyalties are as yet unclear. I have no wish to see this fracas endanger my former house, nor see it threaten the monarchy.” She chuckled. “I quite like it here, and there’s so much left to do.”
The woman raised an eyebrow. “You know you could sway loyalty in an instant by choosing a consort. Or, perhaps, even two.”
With a wry grin, she echoed the other woman. “Such a thing has not happened since we set foot in New Atlantis.”
Gwyn grinned and boldly imitated her ruler. “Perhaps this is the right moment, Empress.”
With a laugh, she made a shooing motion with her hands. “Off with you. Summon the guards and give me a half-hour to finish here, then you may admit the patriarch of House Jehenel.”
As she stood, the older woman said, “Speaking of excellent consort choices.”
Shenni shook her head. “We already own his loyalty.”
“You could always choose to bind him more closely.”
“Away with you, matchmaker.” Her seneschal departed and her laugh faded as she closed the door behind her.
To receive the representative of one of the nine noble houses of New Atlantis, the Empress chose to change from her less formal working robe into something more appropriate. The layers were rendered in her royal colors, a sheer black dress under a heavier and more luxurious scarlet gown. Her thick crimson locks were swept away from her face but hung freely down her back. She had cleared the desk of most nonessentials, and its empty wooden surface was bare except for a decanter, two glasses, and a small pile of paperwork on the right-hand side.
I don’t want to appear too focused on my guest, after all, lest he get ideas.
It was a difficult line to walk, keeping her many admirers—or, to be more specific, those wishing to influence her in matters of power and treasure—on a leash short enough to maintain their interest but long enough to not provide them sure footing. Fortunately, she’d had years of practice and had developed keen instincts. Also, she was almost certain Gwyn used one of her guards as an information source to keep her updated on potential problems.
When he entered, Wymarc Jehenel appeared none the worse for wear. His sharp features and gorgeous eyes drew attention to his face immediately. His clothing choices had a certain tightness in common as if he wanted to display what was beneath in a not particularly subtle way. Black trousers that looked as if they’d be very soft to the touch clung to the outlines of his leg muscles until they vanished into supple leather boots, and a pale yellow tunic wrapped him like a second skin. His arms were bare and stood out so much that he might have lifted weights in the hallway before he entered. All in all, he made a fetching display but a rather obvious one.
She extended her hand, and he knelt beside her to kiss it, then took the chair on the opposite side of the desk at her gesture. His gaze was locked on her face with an intensity she might have found threatening in one she didn’t share secrets with.
He smiled widely. “Empress Shenni, thank you for agreeing to meet with me yet again. I am surely the most fortunate of your subjects.”
Her first instinct was to roll her eyes at him but she lowered her gaze and covered her mockery by reaching for the decanter. “But of course, Patriarch Wymarc.” She poured for them both, a notable honor for her guest, and nudged the glass of dark rum toward him. He waited while she sipped hers and sighed in pleasure at the sharp taste and the warm burn that followed.
Wymarc mirrored her actions, then set the tumbler on the table. “So, what shall we discuss?”
Shenni smiled at the weak gambit. “How about you tell me about your adventure the other evening?”
The young patriarch nodded and returned his head to the perfect angle for admiring. I bet he practices in the mirror. She couldn’t be too scathing about it as she did the same thing. One’s body was as much a communication device as one’s voice in the circles she frequented.
“I was having a lovely night out with Matriarch Leblanc when we were set upon by ruffians. Fortunately, we were able to defeat them without lasting injury.”
She chuckled. “You are a master of understatement. From what I hear, it was a more significant fight than you suggest and the girl’s Draksa proved pivotal.”
He shrugged, and his soft smile didn’t change. “All battles are significant, Empress. But I don’t believe we were in any true danger. It felt more like a focused warning than an earnest attempt on our lives.”
“House Devaux, was it?”
“No, according to the mercenary leader, it was Cormier.”
“Odd.” Shenni tilted her head. “Cormier seems to gain little from doing such a thing, at least where the Leblanc family is concerned. Does House Jehenel have issues with Cormier?”
“None that I know of, Empress.” The way he said it confirmed her suspicion.
“Then you were behind it and blamed it on them.” It was a statement, not a question, and he nodded in reply. “To what end?”
“Multiple positive outcomes, Empress. First, Cormier is implicated. For a house that supports you to appear to take action against Caliste will confuse her. It may also offer you an opportunity to further secure their loyalty in the face of this false accusation by the mercenary captain.” His tone became more noble and prissy as he spoke, and she laughed as he finished.
“Indeed so. They have already requested an audience. What else?”
He took a sip of his drink before he replied. “Second, I am cemented in her eyes as an ally. We’ve fought together and defended one another. This can only increase her trust and thus my influence upon her as matters progress.”
“That seems logical.” She was careful to neither approve nor disapprove.
“Finally, and perhaps most importantly, it will build her perceived sense of danger while in the city. That, in turn, may cause her to act more quickly or with less consideration of all the consequences of her actions, or both. Regardless, the level of uncertainty and chaos inherent in her interactions here is increased.”
The Empress smiled. “I can only agree with you on all these points. It was well done, Wymarc.” He nodded and looked satisfied, and she added. “So, have you managed to find your way into the girl’s bed yet?”
His fixed stare was the only sign that her question had surprised him. “I was unaware that was part of what you wished from me, Empress.”
She laughed. “Oh, it’s not. I merely assumed you would avail yourself of the opportunity provided to become one of the girl’s trusted inner circle.”
He shook his head. “Honestly, she doesn’t interest me in that way. While she’s attractive enough, I prefer my partners a little more sophisticated.”
“That’s not what I hear, Wymarc. Quite the opposite, in fact. I have been
told you are…um, shall we say less than discerning?”
The young man grinned and laughed to display perfect teeth. “Ah, Empress Shenni, you speak of another man. One who was younger and stupider. But now that I have had the opportunity to spend time with you and we have found a common cause, I find myself changed. My interests are much more focused.”
Well said, courtier. She smiled. “Well. That is good to hear, Patriarch Jehenel.” She raised her glass. “To remaining focused on that which is important.”
In your case, the girl and making sure that whatever she’s up to doesn’t blow back on your ruler.
Chapter Fifteen
Ozahl, formerly Aiden Walsh, wore the disguise of a businessman today. His illusory body was heavier than his own and strained at the seams of the boring brown suit he had chosen. His hair was brown, as was the ludicrous mustache he’d added. When he took the seat across from Danna Cudon, she stifled a laugh.
“I will have numerous people questioning why I would date this person.”
He grinned. “Tell them I possess a sparkling personality.” The woman looked as beautiful as always in her sharp-lined charcoal pinstripe suit and red power tie over a white shirt. She’d added light makeup, and her hair was slicked back in kind of an Annie Lennox from the eighties style. He appreciated the effort but it was never necessary. His love for her and his attraction to her never wavered even a centimeter.
“It would have to be. Although I like the facial hair a little.”
The mage held his reply when the waiter arrived. He decided the person he impersonated would be a gin and tonic guy and a chicken eater, so he ordered those. Danna selected a martini with extra olives and a steak, medium-rare. The server departed with a prim, “Very good.”
