by Rin Grey
Too much? Too little?
Jocelyn nodded. “That sounds reasonable. So can you tell us anything about her?”
Elizabeth shook her head, relieved that there was no need to lie. “Aside from her responsibilities, I know little. I’d recognise her by sight, she addressed the Academy on several occasions that I was present for, but I’ve never spoken to her, or to be honest, followed her career. Politics was never my strong suit. I couldn’t even say for sure that she’s the most likely. It could just as easily be one of the other princes.”
Princess Einara was the most likely though, wasn’t she? There really wasn’t much chance Sean would show up.
Not if he could help it, anyway.
Jocelyn sighed. “Well, you’d better give us the rundown on them too. Who else may come? Are there any that are unlikely?”
Elizabeth reviewed the list of princes, and then suppressed a shudder. “Well, let me tell you, if Prince Tskara shows up, I’m out of here, king’s request or no king’s request.”
The thought was just a little too close to her current concerns for comfort.
Jocelyn frowned. “Why is that?”
“Because his job is to investigate cases of treason. I can think of no possible innocuous reason for his involvement,” Elizabeth said flatly.
Jocelyn raised a mocking eyebrow. “Should we expect his presence on those grounds at all? If so, I suspect we’d be better off knowing now.”
Was Jocelyn deliberately baiting her? Surely she had to realise that Elizabeth was far more concerned about her niece’s actions than her own.
She laughed softly. “I’m not stupid enough to do anything that could be classed as treason against Linarra. Nor will I, just as a warning.”
She and Jocelyn locked eyes for a moment, and Elizabeth got the distinct feeling that Jocelyn wanted to push the issue. Instead, she pursed her lips, and didn’t continue that line of conversation.
“So that’s two of the princes, what about the others, how likely are they to be our contact?” Jocelyn asked instead.
Elizabeth considered, weighing up carefully exactly what to say, and how to say it. She had to mention Sean, given that there was a possibility he would come, but she wasn’t sure she could even say his name out loud without her voice breaking.
Not that she would introduce him as Sean to Jocelyn.
Somehow, saying Prince Veryn seemed a little easier. She never thought of him by his full name. To her, he was just Sean.
Even so, she carefully sandwiched his name in between the other two options.
“Princess Isala is unlikely. She handles internal management issues. Prince Veryn is possible, he does work outside the Dome, though it is usually mages he seeks, not items. Prince Yastik is possible as well, if the Dome considers that this item is a security risk or a threat in some way.”
Jocelyn listened intently, nodding once or twice. “So Yastik is the military advisor then?”
Elizabeth tried not to heave a sigh of relief that she’d passed right over Sean’s name.
“The Dome doesn’t have a military as such,” she explained. “They really have no reason to. The force field provides all the protection they need against any possible attack. Yastik provides personal protection for the king, as well as… well, I’m not exactly sure what he does,” Elizabeth admitted. “Either way, his presence would signal that they do perceive a threat from this cache of items in some way.”
Jocelyn looked a little disappointed, but she nodded anyway. “I suppose that’s better than nothing. We might be able to tell more once the prince arrives.”
She turned to the men, who had remained attentive throughout the conversation, and said, “I have some business to take care of, I suggest you and Elizabeth get to know one another, and work out how you can best work together on this task.”
Merron, a slightly older man, his bulging biceps giving a slight clue as to his role, was the one who nodded. He seemed to speak for the group, and was probably their leader, at least unofficially.
He was the one she was most likely to have trouble with.
Jocelyn rose and left the room, and as Elizabeth had expected, Merron was the first to speak up. “So, Elizabeth, what sort of help can we expect from you?”
She leaned casually back in her chair, and regarded him for a few moments. “That depends. What sort of help do you need?”
His eyes narrowed, sensing her unspoken challenge, and he said flatly, “We’ve never needed any help before.”
Elizabeth laughed softly. “Well, apparently you do, because last time you tried to take these items, you didn’t get them, did you?”
Merron growled, “And you think you would have been able to?”
Elizabeth shrugged. “I have no doubt I could have evened the odds in our favour.”
Without moving, she manipulated the energy around her to hide her presence, and smiled invisibly at the looks of shock on their faces. She released the energy, still smiling, perhaps a little smugly now. “Do you think that could be of help?”
Merron stared at her for a moment, then nodded grudgingly. “I expect we might find a use for it, yes. What else can you do?”
Elizabeth shrugged. It would take hours to explain all the skills she had.
“There isn’t much I haven’t tried my hand at over the years.” She looked Merron up and down. “If I’m reading things right, I’d probably have trouble competing with you on your home soil. I’m not much with hand to hand fighting.” She turned to Jake. “I’m willing to bet I could take you on without breaking a sweat though.”
As she expected, the wiry young man bristled at that. “You think that because I’m young I’m inexperienced, do you? Well, that’s a mistake many have made. One that few have lived to regret.”
Elizabeth managed to hide her smile at that, and with the view to preventing them from pestering her any further, she said lightly, “So what are you saying then, my extra years of experience aren’t worth something? Are you doubting my skill because I’m a mage or a woman?”
Jake reddened slightly at that, but stood his ground. “How about we find out?”
“Sounds good to me. Is there somewhere we can spar?” Elizabeth came back quickly.
Merron was watching in amusement, but he followed them to a large room, empty of all but a couple of bench seats and a bucket of wooden practice swords.
Their footsteps echoed hollowly on the wooden floorboards as they entered, Jake strode towards the practice swords until Elizabeth’s words halted him. “I’m afraid I much prefer the weight of steel, I never did like the balance of those wooden toys.”
Jake turned, frowning, but nodded readily.
Merron’s frown disappeared, and he pulled Elizabeth aside. “Are you sure that’s wise? Jocelyn won’t be impressed if either of you end up wounded with our guest coming this afternoon.”
Elizabeth grinned. “Don’t worry, Merron, He won’t touch me, and I promise I’m skilled enough not to cut him.” She gave a short laugh. “Well, not more than a little nick anyway.”
“I would have thought that if you are that skilled, you’d know the dangers of overconfidence,” Merron said solemnly. “Jake’s been holding a sword since he was five years old. He’s no amateur.”
“When he was five years old, I’d been holding a sword for more than twenty years already. He has no chance,” Elizabeth said flatly. “You need not fear for me, I promise you.”
Shaking his head, Merron stepped back, taking a seat next to Cyril, and saying something to him that Elizabeth didn’t catch.
She didn’t try to either. Jake was standing opposite her, his sword drawn, eyes locked to hers, and all her concerns and worries were pushed away by the need to focus.
They circled slowly around each other, feet padding softly on the wooden floor, each watching for any sign that the other was about to make the first move.
Jake was the one who broke the circle first. His sword flicked out.
Elizabeth w
as ready, leaning ever so slightly backwards so that she only felt the wind of its passing.
She quickly followed his move with a strike of her own, her sword clashing sharply against his as he blocked instinctively. She carefully held back her blow, not wanting to break his sword.
He might need it for real soon.
He held her gaze as he pushed firmly against her sword, but she didn’t give.
Merron’s warnings had merit, the boy was quite skilled for his age. No match for her though.
After holding against each other for several moments, both of them pulled back, breaking contact to circle again.
Elizabeth moved first this time, testing Jake’s reaction on his blindside.
He brought his sword up to block, but only just, and the strength of Elizabeth’s thrust caused him to take two steps backwards.
She followed up his stumble with another quick strike, then another.
He kept blocking, barely, with no time to spare for his own attacks.
Three more strikes and she broke through his guard, pulling back just as her sword touched the skin on his sword arm.
Jake put his left hand up to his arm, and then stared at the streaks of red staining his fingers in surprise. “You got me.”
Elizabeth nodded, and sheathed her sword. “I can fix it if you like?”
Jake shook his head. “No, it’s only a nick, I’m fine. I just, didn’t expect it, that’s all.”
For a moment he held back, stiff and hurt, then curiosity won out. “Who taught you?”
Memories flooded Elizabeth’s mind, the last thing she needed right now.
Sean, opposite her, sword in his hand, unbelievably fast, making her wonder if she would ever master this skill he was so insistent on.
Then standing behind her, hands over hers, showing her a move, his hair brushing her cheek, making it hard to pay any attention to what he was saying.
The first time she blocked one of his blows, and the look of surprise and pride on his face.
And the day he’d presented the sword to her, so casually, as though it were nothing.
No, she didn’t need that now at all.
There was a chance she was going to come face to face with him within the next few hours. Not a high chance, but still a possibility. Even that small possibility sent her pulse racing and her body singing even louder than the adrenaline of the fight had.
Those sorts of feelings were just what she didn’t need. If he did turn up here today she needed to be able to face him without flinching, without giving away exactly how she felt about him.
Memories of their past together wasn’t going to help that.
“No one you’d know,” she said more curtly than she needed too. Then, as his face fell, she added, “Do you want to go again?”
They fought five more times, all with a similar outcome, though Elizabeth was careful not to draw blood again. She was pleased to note that Jake wasn’t discouraged, despite his repeated defeats. In fact, each time he seemed even more determined to overcome her guard.
Eventually, impressed with his determination, she swapped her sword to her off hand, giving him the advantage.
Again they circled, eyes meeting, Jake’s intense and serious.
His sword flicked out.
Elizabeth blocked, realising that her left arm was much weaker than the right, the weight of the sword unfamiliar in that hand. Quickly she followed his move with a strike of her own. Her sword crashed against his sharply as he blocked.
He held her gaze as he pushed firmly against her sword, breaking her hold after a few moments, and following it up with a quick strike.
Her arm wasn’t strong enough to bring her sword up in time. She winced at the sharp sting of the sword on what would have been her sword arm as Jake hurried to pull back, surprised at his first victory of the day.
He grinned in triumph, lowering his sword to the ground. “Much better odds this time.”
Elizabeth shook the sword in her left hand, and smiled, “My arm isn’t used to this, apparently I need more practice. But at least you’re a challenge now.”
A voice at the door interrupted their friendly banter, “Jocelyn’s says she’s ready for all of you now.”
Elizabeth glanced over at Jocelyn’s assistant, Loris, her heart still thudding from the exertion. And from nerves. “What, already?”
It couldn’t be three o’clock, could it? She hadn’t lost that much time.
“Her visitor is early,” Loris confirmed. “She said to hurry up.”
“Freck,” Elizabeth swore, wishing now that she hadn’t challenged Jake to fight. At least then she wouldn’t be sweaty and winded.
She sheathed her sword and glanced at the others, who seemed far less concerned. Trying to feign casualness, she asked, “Do I have time to clean up first?”
Loris glanced at her, and though she didn’t actually turn up her nose, the expression on her face was nearly as blatant. “I think so, but make it quick.”
The others waited while Elizabeth splashed water on her face and pulled a comb quickly through her hair, her hands shaking.
Was it Sean? Or someone else?
A dash of magic healed the minor cut and removed the blood from her shirt, though she didn’t have time to repair the small tear. The many small pieces of thread that made up the weave were fiddly and took time to repair properly.
Then the four of them headed back to the meeting room.
Her hearth thumping, Elizabeth hung back so that she was near the rear of the group as Merron pushed open the door and stepped through. She paused in the doorway for a second, took a deep breath, and stepped through.
And there he was.
As if he sensed her presence, he looked up. For a moment his eyes met hers.
Elizabeth could barely breathe.
The sound of her heart thumping and the blood rushing in her ears was so loud she was surprised the whole room couldn’t hear them. How could she have ever imagined she might be able to move on? The twenty years since she’d seen him might not have existed for all the attention her heart paid to them.
But Sean... He might not have remembered her for all the recognition he gave, his eyes lingering no longer on her than they did on anyone else in the group.
Disappointment stabbed Elizabeth in the gut so hard it was a struggle not to double over.
She would have expected him not to show any recognition, she tried to reassure herself, even if they had still been on good terms. He’d never admitted to their relationship publicly.
That thought helped her pull herself together enough to move towards the empty seat next to Jocelyn.
To get there, she had to pass within a hand span of where Sean sat.
She’d never met with him in public before, not like this, and for some reason she felt compelled to make a display. She paused as she passed, bowing minutely, such as one of the Cardinals would bow to their prince.
The others wouldn’t know the difference, not know that it was not done for her to assume such familiarity, but Sean would. “Prince Veryn,” she murmured quietly and respectfully.
His eyes widened ever so slightly. “Mage Salinga.” He inclined his head slightly.
Did his voice waver a little?
Did she dare hope?
Elizabeth took her seat next to Jocelyn, her heart thumping like she’d just run a mile.
“Prince Veryn, this is my team. Merron, Jake and Cyril,” Jocelyn said. “And apparently you already know my heir, Elizabeth Salinga.”
Elizabeth was pretty sure that Jocelyn shot her a suspicious glance at that point, probably thinking she was hiding something.
Which she was.
But Elizabeth didn’t care. She wasn’t looking at her niece.
Sean’s eyes met hers again, and this time, his frown was unmistakable.
Elizabeth’s heart sank at the cold disapproval in his eyes. It took everything in her not to drop her eyes, to meet his without flinching.
&nbs
p; Luckily he glanced away, towards Jocelyn, after only a few seconds.
“Yes, the king mentioned that he had requested Mage Salinga’s presence.”
His voice sounded formal. Distant. Uncaring.
Elizabeth tried to swallow the lump that swelled in her throat.
She tried to look for any hope to cling to, but there wasn’t much.
If he spoke the truth, he’d known she would be here. Had he come because of her presence, or in spite of it?
The answer remained a mystery, and she realised that she had missed the first half of whatever it was Jocelyn was saying. She made a half hearted attempt to pay attention.
“… have a shared interest in finding a cache of items that we believe is in the ruined city of Anyir. We have a map that shows its location, but our last attempt to retrieve the items ended unsuccessfully. The city is occupied by a group of mercenaries who are using it as a base to raid passing mining caravans, and they didn’t take kindly to our trespassing…”
Elizabeth tried hard to pay attention… really….
She stole a brief look at Sean, relieved he was looking at Jocelyn, not her, leaving her the chance to study him unobserved. It was somewhat disconcerting that he looked almost as he had the last day she had seen him, having aged as little as she had over the intervening years. Their estrangement may as well have been yesterday.
“…Prince Veryn will be sending a team to accompany us, and hopefully we will be successful this time. Once the items have been found, they will be brought back here, and we will discuss how we will divide them.” Jocelyn looked around to see if anyone had any questions.
Merron, Jake and Cyril queried a few details, but Elizabeth couldn’t have thought up a relevant question had her life depended on it.
Luckily it didn’t.
Though Jocelyn looked at her once or twice in annoyance, she said nothing.
As Jocelyn raised her hand to point to something, Elizabeth caught sight of the tattoo around her wrist. She glanced at Sean, wondering what Jocelyn would say if she saw his identical one.
