The Immortal Prince

by Jennifer Fallon

  “And I fear you’ll find out the hard way I’m not as deluded as you imagine,” she predicted, almost defiantly.

  Stellan let it go. He didn’t come here looking for another fight. Instead, he put his arm around her, hugging her gently. “We’re a fine pair of fools, aren’t we? You fall for a convicted murderer and me for a blatant fortune hunter.”

  “Speaking of your blatant fortune hunter,” Arkady asked abruptly, “what will happen to him when we go to Torlenia?”

  And just when I thought we were going to be friends again…“I was planning to leave him here in Lebec.”

  “He’ll die of boredom a week after we’re gone,” she warned. “And he’ll likely go looking for his fun elsewhere.”

  “I’m surprised you care.”

  She looked at him, her expression serious. “I care about you, Stellan. And despite how undeserving I might think Jaxyn Aranville is of your affection, I know there’s nothing I can do to prevent you loving him.”

  Well, that’s something. Arkady wasn’t usually so willing to accept the inevitability of his relationship with Jaxyn. “What do you suggest I do with him? He can’t come to Torlenia with us.”

  “Actually, I’ve been thinking about it quite a bit,” she said, shifting on the bed so she was facing him. “Why not send him to court?”

  “To Herino?”

  She nodded. “With you out of the country, Reon Debalkor will be looking for any opportunity to diminish you in the eyes of the king. I know you have friends at court, Stellan, but you need someone there whose job it is to look out for your interests specifically.”

  Her suggestion astounded him, as much for its brilliance as its unexpectedness. “You would trust Jaxyn with such a role?”

  She hesitated and then nodded. “Yes, I would.”

  “It would mean I’d have someone there to keep an eye on Kylia, too,” he mused, which was an angle Arkady probably hadn’t even considered. With everything else going on lately, she’d barely spared his niece a second thought since she got back from the mountains, he suspected.

  “Will you give it some consideration?” she asked.

  He nodded. “It’s not a bad idea, actually.”

  “I’m not entirely blinded by my infatuation, Stellan.”

  He looked at her oddly. “Are you suggesting I am?”

  “I don’t know. Are you?” she asked with a raised brow.

  He hugged her gently and let her go, rising to his feet. “I think we’d be doing ourselves a favour by staying out of each other’s affairs. Neither of us seems to approve of the other’s tastes.”

  “I’m sorry if I caused you any trouble, Stellan. I didn’t mean to.” The apology was genuine, the edge gone from her voice. Things might yet be all right between them.

  “I know you didn’t,” he assured her. “Fortunately, there appears to be no lasting harm done. That canine you released hasn’t caused any problems and your immortal—even if he isn’t dead—is apparently no longer a threat. Declan Hawkes is satisfied I was only lying to protect Kylia’s engagement and Jaxyn is a hero. Things could be a lot worse.”

  “Yes,” she agreed. “They could be.”

  “Are you all ready for the trip to Herino?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “It should be a pleasant enough trip. The weather’s been very nice of late.”

  “Yes, it has, hasn’t it?”

  Tides, we’ve been reduced to discussing the weather! Is this how it’s going to be from now on? “Smooth sailing all the way, I suspect.”

  They were travelling by boat rather than on horseback. From Herino they would be sailing down the Lower Oran after the wedding, through the lock to the Upper Ryrie and then down the Lower Ryrie to Whitewater City in the south. From there they would travel through the dangerous Whitewater Narrows to the coast, where they would take another ship for Torlenia.

  He smiled, hoping for a sign that things really were back to normal between them. “Well…I guess I’ll see you in the morning.”

  She nodded. “Goodnight, Stellan.”

  He hesitated for a moment longer, wondering if Arkady had something else to say, but when she offered nothing further he turned and left the room, leaving her alone with the one thing he couldn’t make better with an apology—her pain.

  Stellan found Jaxyn with Declan Hawkes in the library. The two of them had liberated a decanter of his best brandy (Jaxyn’s idea no doubt) and were discussing the relative merits of punishment and rewards when it came to training Crasii.

  Jaxyn was lamenting his inability to get any sense out of a canine before they were fifteen years old, which was rather ingenuous of him—he got remarkable results with all the Crasii. Better than anybody Stellan had ever seen. In fact, Stellan had never witnessed Jaxyn so much as raise his voice to a Crasii, who all seemed to hunger for his approval in a way that made Stellan quite envious.

  “Don’t listen to him, Master Hawkes,” Stellan warned with a smile as he took the seat opposite Declan. The men were sitting in the deep leather chairs by the hearth but the night was warm enough that it remained unlit. “Jaxyn has a remarkable way with the Crasii.”

  “I don’t doubt it, your grace,” the spymaster agreed, taking an appreciative sip of his brandy. “Lord Aranville’s reputation as a Crasii handler has reached even the salons of Herino.”

  “I really don’t do anything special,” Jaxyn said with a self-deprecating shrug. “Anybody could get the Crasii to respond to them if they took the time to study their behaviour.”

  “Have you been studying them long, Lord Aranville?”

  “Longer than you’d imagine,” he replied with a smile. “I’m older than I look, you know.”

  “And wiser too,” Stellan agreed. “At least you are, according to my wife.”

  “How is dear Arkady?” Jaxyn asked. “Still recovering from the trauma of her kidnapping?”

  Stellan frowned. He didn’t need Jaxyn taking that tone in front of Declan Hawkes. “She seems to have weathered it very well. And she suggested something by way of a reward that I’m rather inclined to grant you.”

  “Really, Stellan, I didn’t do it for payment,” he assured him. “Seeing Arkady safe in your arms again was all the reward I needed.”

  “I’m curious what Lady Desean thinks her rescue was worth,” Declan said. If he had any suspicion there was a double meaning to their conversation, he gave no sign of it.

  “She suggested I appoint Jaxyn as my ambassador to court while we’re away in Torlenia.”

  Jaxyn looked stunned. “Arkady suggested that?”

  Stellan nodded. “You don’t like the idea?”

  “No!” he objected. “Quite the opposite, in fact. I’m just surprised that…after all the trouble she’s had lately, and the ordeal she’s been through, that her grace would take the time to think of such a thing.”

  “I imagine she had plenty of time to be impressed by your abilities when you rescued her and on your return journey to Lebec, Lord Aranville,” Declan remarked. “Perhaps she saw a side of you she hadn’t previously suspected.”

  An odd expression flickered over Jaxyn’s handsome young face and then he smiled. “Perhaps she did at that. And if you’re offering, Stellan, I’d be delighted to represent Lebec’s interests in Herino while you’re away.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked, a little surprised at how quickly Jaxyn had jumped at the opportunity. Given his initial reaction to the news they were leaving soon for Torlenia and his ambivalence toward Arkady, he was expecting a lot more resistance to any plan conceived by his wife.

  “Quite sure,” Jaxyn insisted. “Besides, who else is there to look out for Kylia while you’re gone?”

  “I rather think that would be the concern of her new husband, my lord,” Declan suggested.

  Jaxyn smiled. “You know what I mean. But it’s an excellent idea for any number of other reasons. You don’t want your enemies benefiting from your absence.”

  “What enemies
would those be?” Declan enquired curiously.

  “I imagine I’ll find out soon enough,” Jaxyn said with a laugh, neatly dodging the question. “Besides, while at court I might even find myself a wife. I’m getting to that age, I suppose, where a man needs to think of these things.” He turned to Stellan with an innocent expression. “Do you suppose I could find myself one like Arkady?”

  Arkady is right, Stellan decided. Sometimes, Jaxyn is a fool.

  “I’m sure the young ladies will be flocking to you in Herino, my lord,” Declan remarked. “A man with your prospects…and an ambassador to boot.”

  “Well, that settles it!” Jaxyn declared with a grin. “I’ll take the job!”

  Stellan smiled, not sure if he was worried or relieved. “You’d better get packing then,” he suggested. “We’re leaving tomorrow morning.”

  Jaxyn nodded and rose to his feet. “I suppose I should,” he agreed. “And I’d better get it done tonight. Goodnight, Master Hawkes. Stellan.”

  Declan waited until Jaxyn had left the room before nodding his approval of Stellan’s decision. “I think Lord Aranville will do well at court.”

  “I’m glad you approve.”

  “It’s not my place to approve or disapprove of your appointments to the king’s court, your grace. I was merely expressing a personal opinion.”

  “Nonetheless, I would rather have your endorsement than your censure, Declan. The only problem I can foresee is Jaxyn and Mathu deciding to go looking for entertainment together. That may prove problematic.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on his highness,” the spy promised. “And a close eye on Aranville. I’ll make sure they stay out of trouble.”

  “I’d appreciate that,” Stellan said. He smiled, as if the idea had a great deal of merit, while privately panicking at the thought of the King’s Spymaster watching his lover while he was gone.

  And realising that even if he wanted to, there was nothing he could do to prevent it.

  Chapter 70

  “He betrayed us,” Warlock announced, gripping the unmoving bars on the window and shaking them in frustration to absolutely no effect. “Shalimar betrayed us.”

  Boots stopped pacing their small Watch-house cell long enough to glare at him. It was dark and raining outside and the cell reeked of stale urine. All he could make out was the glittering orbs of her dark eyes and the faint silhouette of her shadow on the opposite wall. “Don’t be ridiculous!”

  “Then how else did the Watch know where to find us?”

  “More to the point, farm dog,” she retorted, “is why they were looking for you at all.”

  That was a question to which Warlock had no answer. “Did they say anything to you?” he asked.

  “You mean other than sit, stay, and there’s a good doggie? Not a lot. They certainly never said why they were looking for you.”

  “The officer who arrested us told me it wasn’t the Duke of Lebec who ordered it, but the king.”

  “Well, aren’t you just the lucky one, having all these impressive enemies?”

  Before Warlock could answer that accusation, the lock rattled and the cell door swung open. Squinting in the sudden flare of torchlight, he felt rather than saw Boots backing up until she bumped into him, and then the soft feel of her pelt as her hand clutched his for reassurance.

  The man holding the torch wasn’t a Watchman. He was younger than Warlock was expecting, tall and powerfully built, dressed well, but not remarkably so. His jacket was well cut but his rumpled shirt was open, and his eyes—even in the torchlight—seemed to miss very little. He studied the pair of them for a moment and pointed to the door.

  “Come with me,” the man ordered.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Somewhere we can sit down,” the stranger informed them. “It’s very late and I’m too tired to question you for hours on my feet.”

  Warlock drew himself up to his full height, which made him only a little taller than their visitor. “You must let my companion go. She has nothing to do with any of this.”

  The human squinted at Boots and then shook his head. “As you have no idea what this is even about, how do you know she’s not a part of it?”

  Warlock could feel Boots’s tight, desperate grip on his hand. Whatever trouble he was in, Boots was an innocent bystander. He would do whatever he had to, to keep her free of it. “I will cooperate if you let her go.”

  “You’ll cooperate because I damned well tell you to cooperate,” the man told him impatiently. “But before you start getting all tetchy and biting people, let me assure you I’m not interested in anything you’ve done in the past. I’m far more interested in what you can do in the future.” He studied Boots for a moment and then nodded. “As for your little friend there, seems to me she fits the description of an escaped canine wanted for killing a feline at the Lebec Palace compound a few months back.”

  Warlock looked down at Boots in surprise. “You killed a feline?”

  “Like I’m going to admit anything like that while I’m standing in the middle of the Lebec City Watch-house,” she retorted.

  “You see,” the man said. “Your girlfriend’s got more sense than you have. Now, are you going to come without a fight, or do I have to send to the palace for someone to identify your friend there as their runaway slave?”

  “How do I know you haven’t sent someone to the palace already?”

  “You don’t,” he replied. “You’re going to have to believe I haven’t turned her in, and I have to believe you’re not going to rip my throat out, first chance you get. It’s called trust, my large and hairy friend. Something that tends to be in short supply between your kind and mine, these days.”

  By now, Warlock was thoroughly confused. This man clearly held authority here, but he spoke like no human he’d encountered before, with the possible exception of Shalimar. “I don’t understand.”

  “Then come with me,” the man insisted. “Won’t be long, believe me, before you understand all too well what I want of you.”

  “You’ve spoken to Cayal,” the man said once the introductions were done with.

  Somewhat to Warlock’s surprise, rather than an interrogation cell, he and Boots had been escorted to the Watch Commander’s office. They were alone, the Watch Commander having been ordered to vacate the room while they made use of it. It was cluttered and stuffy in the office but a veritable palace compared to the torture chamber Warlock had been expecting. The man had introduced himself as Declan Hawkes. He said he worked for the king. He failed to specify exactly what he did in the king’s employ, however.

  Whatever he did, he had the authority to evict the Watch Commander of the Lebec City Watch from his office.

  “I beg your pardon?” Warlock asked, not sure if he’d heard the man right.

  “Cayal,” Declan Hawkes repeated. “The Immortal Prince. You shared a cell block with him until recently.”

  Warlock was amazed. “Does everybody know about the Tide Lords?”

  “Everybody knows about them, my friend,” Hawkes agreed, leaning back in the Watch Commander’s chair. “There’re only a few of us who understand they’re a real threat. Reckon you’d know him if you saw him again?”

  Warlock nodded slowly, glancing at Boots to see what her reaction was to this startling revelation, but she was just sitting there, arms crossed, scowling at Hawkes, probably wondering if she was about to be sent back to Lebec Palace.

  “Any Crasii could tell you who he is if they met him,” Warlock told him. “We can sense the suzerain the same way you can smell the difference between fresh milk and sour.”

  “Yes, I know that. But how many of them could walk away from him if he commanded them to stay?”

  Warlock frowned. “You’ve been speaking to Shalimar.”

  “Good one, farm dog!” Boots exclaimed, punching his arm. “Tell him all about Shalimar. Why not name every stray in the Kennel while you’re at it? Give the Watch something really useful to do.”


  Hawkes looked at the two of them, shaking his head. He seemed amused. “Do you seriously think a man like Shalimar can operate in a city the size of Lebec and us not know about him? Tides, I always credited the canines with more intelligence than that.”

  “He’s your agent,” Warlock concluded, meeting Hawkes’s eye evenly. “That’s how he lives as well as he does.”

  Hawkes didn’t bother to deny the accusation, which didn’t surprise Warlock, although it clearly disturbed Boots.

  “I don’t believe that! Shalimar is our friend. He wouldn’t betray the Crasii.”

  “Nor has he,” Hawkes assured her. “That’s not his job.”

  “What is his job, then?” Warlock asked. “To lure runaway slaves into his trust and then send them unsuspectingly back into the arms of their masters while they assume they’re fleeing to safety?”

  Declan Hawkes smiled. “Hardly.”

  “Hidden Valley is just a myth, isn’t it?” Warlock accused. “It’s a story made up to lull the wary into a false sense of security.”

  “On the contrary, Hidden Valley is very real,” the man informed them. “And just like the legend says, it’s full of Scards. Real Scards, mind you, not the human definition, which is basically just a runaway slave. These are all Crasii we’re certain can defy the Tide Lords. Lady Desean assures me you’re one of them, Warlock. The only reason your little friend here isn’t in chains and on her way back to Lebec Palace right now is because she defied Jaxyn when she killed that feline and fled the palace compound, so it’s a fair bet she’s a genuine Scard too. That makes both of you more valuable than you realise.”

  “Valuable how?” Warlock asked, still not convinced this wasn’t some sort of elaborate trap.

  “The Tide is turning. Shalimar must have told you that.”

  “Then you know…what Shalimar is?”

  “A Tidewatcher?” Hawkes said without blinking. “Of course.”

  “But…,” Warlock began, feeling more and more lost by the moment. “I still don’t understand…”

  “He’s building a Scard army,” Boots said. “That’s why he wants us. That’s what Hidden Valley is. It’s where they’re hiding their Scard army against the return of the Tide Lords.”