The Gods of Amyrantha

by Jennifer Fallon

  Chapter 50

  Warlock had thought his life couldn’t get any more fraught than it already was, right up until a few days ago when Jaxyn had called him into the office of the King’s Private Secretary—so recently vacated by the involuntarily retired Lord Deryon—to inform him a delegation was arriving from Caelum. Jaxyn wanted Warlock to act as Lord Torfail’s manservant while the Caelish emissary and his sister were guests in Herino.

  Warlock all but choked on the news, covering his shock with a coughing fit. Lord Torfail was the immortal Tryan, among the worst of Jaxyn’s immortal brethren and something the Tide Lord clearly didn’t have a clue about. Warlock knew about Tryan and Elyssa being in Caelum, because Tiji had told him about their presence in the Caelish palace on their way from Hidden Valley to bring the news to Declan Hawkes and the Cabal. It never occurred to him, until that moment, the news might not have reached the ears of Jaxyn or Diala.

  Tides. Dealing with two suzerain is bad enough. Now I’m going to have to deal with four of them.

  And then another, even more depressing thought occurred to him.

  I’m never going to see my pups.

  Warlock was still brooding over that realisation as he glanced across the rain-sodden lawn at the King’s Spymaster, standing a dutiful pace behind Lord Jaxyn Aranville, the new King’s Private Secretary, as they waited for the Caelish barge to dock. There was a persistent rain falling, but it seemed, somehow, to be falling around Jaxyn rather than on him. He wasn’t yet strong—or foolish—enough to announce who he was by blatantly walking through the rain untouched by it, but he clearly didn’t intend to suffer any undue discomfort, either. Declan Hawkes, barely three feet from the King’s Private Secretary, was drenched.

  Hawkes was here at the behest of the King’s Private Secretary, because of the missing Caelish princess. As usual, the spymaster didn’t even acknowledge Warlock’s presence when he arrived, treating him with the same ignorant disdain as any suzerain. Warlock was grateful for his disregard, while desperate to speak with him. His safety lay in his ability to fade into the background with almost, but not quite, the same skill as a chameleon. Tiji disguised her presence by blending with the background. Warlock survived by being part of it.

  The trouble was, time was growing short. In about six weeks, Boots was due to whelp. Anxious as he was to do what was asked of him for the Cabal who had offered him and Boots shelter and a safe place to raise their pups, he wanted to go to be there for them, too. The added complication of the arrival of even more Tide Lords in Herino didn’t augur well for Warlock’s plans in that direction.

  The amphibians brought the barge into the newly repaired dock with an impressive degree of control. A few moments later the gangway was pushed out from the barge and landed with a thump on the wharf, followed by several armed felines who hurried to take up position as an honour guard. Each one wore a red sash to indicate their rank in the royal household, and the weapons they carried—although shiny and impressive even in the rain—were purely decorative. Warlock knew how much the felines hated to be encumbered and their claws were weapon enough on their own to deter any aggressors. But they looked imposing on parade and this was all about making a point. The Caelish were convinced their princess had been kidnapped and spirited over the border to Glaeba and they were here to get her back.

  But before they even got around to discussing poor little Princess Nyah, the two immortals descending from the barge were about to get a very rude shock when they realised who the new King’s Private Secretary and the new Queen of Glaeba were.

  Warlock glanced at Declan again, but the spymaster looked relaxed, albeit rather wet, his thumbs caught in his belt, watching the docking as if nothing was out of the ordinary. If he was worried or even remotely interested in this historic meeting, he gave no outward indication of it.

  Two cloaked figures appeared at the head of the gangway, but Warlock couldn’t make them out clearly through the rain. Then Jaxyn’s posture altered slightly, as if something had alerted him to the impending danger at almost the same time as Warlock sensed the suzerain on the boat. It was obvious the pair on the boat felt the presence of another immortal, too. The female leaned into her companion and said something to him. He shook his head and then offered her his arm and the two of them walked down the gangway to confront their welcoming party.

  Jaxyn held his ground on the lawn, forcing the others to come to him. Standing just behind and to the left of Jaxyn, Warlock studied them as they approached. The pair were exactly as Cayal had described them. Tryan was almost too handsome to be male, while his sister, although her body was as perfectly formed as immortality could make it, was a bland, pale creature with wide-set eyes and a jawline that disappeared into her neck before it ever managed to form a chin.

  They stopped a pace from Jaxyn and stared at one another for a long, tense moment, before Jaxyn stepped forward and offered Tryan his hand. There were too many mortals here watching for any of them to say what they really wanted to.

  “Lord and Lady Torfail, I presume? Welcome to Glaeba.”

  “You’re Lord Aranville?”

  “Fancy that.”

  “Well, that explains a lot,” Elyssa said, glowering at Jaxyn. “What have you done with her?”

  “Done with whom?”

  Tryan glared at him. “Really, Lord Aranville, are you that dense?”

  “Ah, you mean your missing princess? Terrible tragedy. I hear the wedding can’t proceed until she’s found. How that must break your heart, Lord Torfail. And your mother’s, too.”

  “We want her back!” Elyssa hissed, but Tryan jerked her arm sharply to shut her up before she could add anything further.

  “I’m sure you do, Lady Alysa,” Jaxyn agreed. “And to that end, allow me to introduce Declan Hawkes, the King’s Spymaster.”

  Right on cue, Declan stepped forward and bowed to the visitors from Caelum. “My lord, my lady.”

  Jaxyn clapped Declan on the shoulder. “I have put Master Hawkes in charge of the investigation to discover if the suspicion that your betrothed has been brought across the lake into Glaeba has any basis in fact. Trust me, if Princess Nyah is here, our spymaster will know where to find her.”

  “That’s a bit like asking the fox to guard the chicken coop, isn’t it?” Tryan asked. “He’s probably the one who’s got her stashed somewhere. On your orders, I wouldn’t be surprised to discover.”

  “My lord, you may rest assured,” Declan said, his manner so earnest even Warlock believed him, “Lord Aranville has never given me any such order. If your princess is in Glaeba, he knows nothing of it.”

  Tryan seemed unimpressed by the assurance. “You seem to have the hired help nicely trained, Lord Aranville. Do they jump through hoops and play dead when you command it, too?”

  “Oh, yes,” Jaxyn replied, clearly considering himself the victor in this first encounter with his immortal brethren. “Shall we get out of this rain and go somewhere we can discuss this in…a less public forum?”

  Tryan nodded his agreement, as if only just realising that in addition to the many Crasii forming the honour guard to welcome them to Herino, there were a lot of humans within earshot who were not ready to learn the truth.

  “This is Cecil,” Jaxyn said, motioning the Crasii forward. “He will show you to your rooms and see to it you have everything you need.”

  With a glare at Jaxyn, they turned to Warlock. The stench of the suzerain was on them both. It made his stomach churn, but he was getting used to the sensation now. Besides, Warlock had another distraction. As he turned toward the palace, he caught sight of Jaxyn leaning toward Declan Hawkes.

  Only his sharp canine hearing allowed him to hear the Tide Lord telling the spymaster, “Whatever you have to do, Hawkes, if that child is in Glaeba, I want you to find her.”

  “Are you so anxious to appease Caelum, my lord?”

  “Appease be damned,” the Tide Lord replied in a low voice. “I want you to find her and then I want you
to kill her. Under no circumstances is that man to be allowed to take the throne of Caelum.”

  “If you would follow me please, my lord, my lady?” Warlock said, one eye and both ears fixed, not on the Caelish suzerain, but on the conversation going on between Declan Hawkes and the Tide Lord.

  “Wouldn’t it be quicker and easier to just kill Lord Torfail then?” Hawkes asked. “I mean, we’ve no idea where the child is, but I can locate Torfail for you in a snap.”

  Tides, that man likes to live dangerously.

  Unfortunately, before Jaxyn could answer the spymaster’s loaded question, the feline honour guard fell into place around them, forcing Warlock and the visitors from Caelum to turn for the palace, and he heard no more of their conversation.

  Once they were dry and changed, Warlock led Lord Torfail and his sister through the palace to the office of the King’s Private Secretary. Tryan strode into the room, slamming the door behind him with such force he almost amputated Warlock’s tail before he could snatch it clear. He then turned on Jaxyn, wasting no time on pleasantries.

  “We want her back!”

  “I don’t have her,” Jaxyn said, looking not at Tryan, but at Elyssa. He smiled at her as if she was something rare and lovely to behold. “It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other, Elyssa. You look charming in that colour. I wonder why I never noticed it before.”

  The young woman beamed at him, which infuriated her brother. “Tides, Lyssa, you’re not going to fall for that, are you? Jaxyn’s lines are older than he is.”

  “He was just being polite.”

  “No, he was trying to distract you. Pay attention. Where is she, Jaxyn?”

  “Hard as this may be for you to grasp, Tryan, my old friend,” Jaxyn said, taking the seat behind the desk. “I really have no idea where your child bride is. And to be honest, until you sailed into my kingdom an hour ago demanding her back, I really couldn’t have cared less about her fate. Would you like some wine?”

  Jaxyn snapped his fingers at Warlock, who was waiting by the door. He hurried to the sideboard, filled three glasses which he placed on a silver tray before turning to offer the wine to the suzerain, taking care to serve Jaxyn first. It wouldn’t hurt to let Jaxyn believe Warlock was loyal to him above all others of his kind.

  “Your kingdom?”

  “It will be soon enough.”

  “Why should I believe you, Jaxyn?”

  “What reason do I have to lie?”

  “You could have taken the little girl to stop Tryan becoming King of Caelum,” Elyssa suggested, taking the wine Warlock offered her without so much as glancing at him.

  “Still the family’s master strategist, I see.” Tryan frowned, but Jaxyn’s sarcasm went right over Elyssa’s head. “Look…I had no idea you were even in Caelum, just as I’m quite sure you had no idea Diala and I were here in Glaeba.”

  “Diala’s here, too?” Tryan asked, taking a seat opposite Jaxyn. He smiled coldly. “So you’re the Minion Maker’s minion, these days?”

  “Only in her wildest dreams. I hear Mummy’s going to let you be king this time.”

  “Only in Tryan’s wildest dreams,” Elyssa said, taking the other seat. “Mother is going to change the laws once Tryan is married to Nyah so she can be empress again.”

  “And you’re going to let her, I suppose? How forceful and manly of you, Tryan.”

  “Don’t think you can insult me and I’ll run away crying, Jaxyn. Are you sure you don’t have the girl?”

  “Quite sure.”

  “Someone in Glaeba does.”

  “Then we’ll just have to find her for you,” Jaxyn promised.

  “This spymaster of yours, is he any good?”

  “Who? Hawkes?” Jaxyn shrugged. “He seems capable enough. I’ve not been here long enough to be certain. His mother was a whore, so the rumour goes. You and he have quite a lot in common, now I think about it.”

  “Well, I hope you’re right,” Tryan said, ignoring the jibe about his mother. “Can’t say I’m blessed with the same good fortune in Caelum. In fact, I’m still not entirely certain our spymaster, Ricard Li, isn’t the one responsible for Nyah’s disappearance.”

  “Then why aren’t you back home, tearing his fingernails out with a pair of horse shoe pliers, and leaving me in peace?”

  “Because even if he was involved, the only place she could have been taken on such short notice is Glaeba.”

  “He doesn’t have the authority to order the Queen’s Spymaster to do anything until after the wedding,” Elyssa added, apparently finding the idea quite entertaining. “That’s the real reason he came here himself.”

  Tryan glared at his sister. “Shut up, Lyssa.”

  “Why? Jaxyn’s not stupid. He’ll have worked that much out for himself already. Where’s Diala?” She addressed the question to Jaxyn, ignoring her brother.

  “Oh, you wouldn’t have heard, would you? Diala’s moved up in the world. She’s our crown princess—and very soon to be crowned Queen of Glaeba—Kylia.”

  “That Stevanian slut is married to Prince Mathu?” Tryan asked. “I thought he married some cousin of his.”

  “He’s King Mathu now. And yes, he married the former Duke of Lebec’s niece, who is cousin to the king.” The Tide Lord spread his hands and smiled. “You know how it works, Try. The niece goes away to school for a while, and when she comes home everyone remarks on how much she’s grown and how much she’s changed…. She meets a prince, they fall in love…”

  “Tides, we should have tried Glaeba first,” Elyssa said, downing her wine in a gulp and then holding it out for a refill.

  Warlock hurried to comply with her unspoken order, afraid to do anything that might anger his masters and see him excluded from this most fascinating meeting. He wasn’t sure at what point his stomach overcame the nausea and he stopped being afraid. Perhaps it was listening to these powerful beings squabble like petulant children. Despite listening to Cayal’s tales, he’d never witnessed these people when they were alone with each other, just being themselves. It was possible nobody who could look at them objectively ever had. Certainly no human alive and probably precious few Crasii had seen anything like it and it was proving an enlightening experience. Until that moment, it had never really sunk in that Tide Lords were just ordinary humans endowed with a gift they were not equipped to deal with, rather than magical beings deserving of awe.

  Tryan shook his head as Warlock stepped back from filling Elyssa’s wine. “There would have been no point coming here, Lyssa. Glaeba’s heir is a nineteen-year-old boy. Taking Glaeba’s throne required the skills of a shameless trollop, not a prince.”

  “You do your sister a vast injustice, Tryan,” Jaxyn scolded. “I’m sure Elyssa could trollop shamelessly with the best of them if the occasion called for it. And since when have you been a prince?”

  “My mother is Empress of the Five Realms.”

  Jaxyn was unimpressed. “You could check with Cayal—being a real prince, he’d know for certain—but I suspect self-appointed titles don’t actually make you royal.”

  Before Tryan could answer that, Elyssa was leaning forward in her chair. “You’ve seen Cayal?”

  Jaxyn studied her for a moment and then, with a heavy sigh, he shook his head and addressed her brother. “Tides, she’s not still nursing a crush on that suicidal loser, is she?”

  “I don’t have a crush on him,” Elyssa objected, even as Tryan nodded in agreement to Jaxyn. “I just like to know where everyone is, that’s all.”

  “Well, if you’re looking for him, precious, go ask Maralyce. Last I saw of the Immortal bloody Prince, he was trying to dig himself out from under the mountain I’d just dropped on him.”

  “So Cayal’s out of the picture?” Tryan asked, sitting a little straighter.

  “For a while,” Jaxyn agreed. “You owe me one, Tryan.”

  “We’ll see. In the meantime, I want my fiancée back.”

  “Never fear, Hawkes is on the job. I�
��ve already told him to drop everything else until she’s either found, or we have proof she’s not here.”

  “That’s very thoughtful of you, Jaxyn.”

  “You don’t rock my boat, Tryan, and I won’t capsize yours.” Jaxyn rose to his feet and smiled at his guests as if he was nothing more than a gracious host welcoming two honoured visitors to Glaeba. “And now, if you will excuse me, I’m going to visit our future queen and suggest she control herself at dinner this evening. Wouldn’t do at all for our new queen to start throwing things at the Caelish delegation when she realises who you are, would it?”

  “You just tell that pretentious little whore to keep her mouth shut,” Tryan suggested, rising to his feet, “and we’ll all get along just fine.”

  “I’ll be sure to give her your regards,” Jaxyn said. “And I’m sure she’ll see reason. After all, once we find your little princess for you, we’re going to be neighbours, aren’t we?”

  Chapter 51

  Cayal watched the temple caravan snaking toward the Tarascan Oasis from the rocky outcrop surrounding the tented settlement on three sides. Between the bubbling springs here and the protective wall of rocks, the oasis was a natural resting place for travellers crossing the vast arid inland of Torlenia, and the closest thing to a real town anywhere in the Great Inland Desert.

  The caravan approaching the oasis was relatively small, no more than twenty or thirty camels, and only half that carrying passengers. The rest were pack animals carrying water, food, shelter and tent poles. Knowing Brynden’s love of austerity, the caravan guides would have provided their passengers with only the bare essentials, Cayal suspected. These were acolytes on their way to follow the Way of the Tide, after all. Nobody made that journey unless they were ready to eschew all worldly comforts.