by Lisa Shearin
I took a deep breath. “Piaras, I need to ask you something.”
He stopped pacing, but the fury was still there. Good. Carnades would claim that what I was about to say was corrupting an innocent. And he’d be right; that was exactly what I was about to do. Piaras had always known what the law could do for him—defend and uphold his rights. He idolized the Guardians and wanted someday to become one. An hour ago, he’d gotten his first taste of what the law could do to him—imprison him and take away his rights. And sometimes guilt or innocence had nothing to do with which end of the law you got. I muttered a word I rarely used. I saved it for special occasions like close calls with death, or when I had to give someone really bad news. Piaras was about to have his innocence shattered, possibly along with his dreams, and I was the one throwing the rock.
“What is it?” He perched on the edge of my bed, then stood restlessly like he was looking around for something to hit.
I bit back a smile. Just like a man.
“Mychael and the archmagus are going to do everything they can to keep either one of us from being locked up,” I told him, “but there is the possibility that they won’t be able to prevent it.”
“We didn’t do anything!”
I held up a hand. “We know that and so do Mychael and the archmagus.” I hesitated. “The law doesn’t care what we know; it only recognizes what can be proven.”
Piaras sat back down on my bed. “But we didn’t do anything wrong.”
“No, we didn’t. But the law can see things differently. A lot of what was said in that room about me was the truth. I did trick Sarad Nukpana into touching the Saghred, knowing full well that the stone would take him as a sacrifice. I am a Benares. I do know Tam—though I wouldn’t exactly call our relationship ‘intimate,’ at least not in the strictly physical sense of the word. I am linked to the Saghred, though contrary to popular belief, I haven’t gone off the deep end.” I paused, mostly for air. “My point is, the truth and the law can be used against you—even if you didn’t do what you’ve been accused of.”
Piaras’s eyes were solemn and calm as he sat looking at me. “You said you wanted to ask me something. You haven’t done that yet.”
I muttered the rarely used word again, this time to myself.
“All of this will probably work out,” I told him. “You’ll go to school; I’ll get rid of my link to the Saghred; our lives will go on as planned. But there is a possibility that Mychael and Justinius won’t be able to keep the Khrynsani or elven intelligence from using the law against us. If that’s the case… well, some very bad things could happen.”
“We’d be locked up.”
“For starters. I can use the Saghred. You’re probably the most powerful spellsinger since Mychael or Ronan Cayle. People like the Khrynsani or the agency like to have powerful weapons like us.”
“I would never be anyone’s weapon,” Piaras said vehemently.
“Sometimes no one asks you what you want… and persuasion can take many forms.” I stopped and just looked at him. He’d done a lot of growing up in the past two weeks, and it’d all been my fault.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“For what?”
“For getting you into all of this. You’re in some serious danger and it’s all my fault.”
“No, it is not your fault.” His dark eyes met mine unwaveringly. “You didn’t ask for any of this, and you have tried from the very beginning to protect me.” He took a deep breath and carefully let it out. Any fear he was feeling was firmly under control, and he was determined to keep it that way. “You said you had a question. You still haven’t asked me anything.” His voice was quiet, but resolute.
For a few seconds the only sound was fire crackling in the fireplace.
“Do you want to leave Mid?”
I expected a stunned reaction from Piaras. He didn’t even bat an eye.
“Will it be necessary?”
“Maybe not. But it might reach that point. Soon.”
“How soon?”
“Tonight.”
“But if we’re convinced that the paladin and the archmagus can keep us safe—”
“Then we will stay. I want to be rid of the Saghred.” I smiled a little. “And even the best spellsinger in the world can still learn a few things at college.”
“How would we leave?”
“I’ve asked Phaelan to come here so we can work out the details. He should be here anytime.”
“I want to stay, but I won’t stay if that means being imprisoned for something I didn’t do… and be used.”
“Me, either.”
“If we have to leave, how do we get out of the citadel?”
“We’ll be going to the recital tonight. It’s closer to the part of the harbor—”
Piaras blew his breath out and it almost sounded like a laugh. “The recital. I’ve never sung for people who wanted to use me or lock me up.”
Or both.
“Taltek Balmorlan has heard you; he knows what you’re capable of,” I said. “I wouldn’t be surprised to find out he was behind slashing the shields in the music room. Anything you do tonight’s not going to make any difference to them.” I hesitated. “Your gift is going to attract unwanted attention from people you’d never want to meet.”
“The same as you.”
I frowned. “Exactly.”
“They’ve already decided what they want to do with me—and with you.” Piaras’s voice was solemn. “All they need now is an excuse to do it.”
“Pretty much.”
Except they didn’t need an excuse. The agency and the Khrynsani were like certain members of my family. If they saw something they wanted, they didn’t ask; they just took it.
Piaras froze. “Raine, if we have to leave, who’ll find the kidnapped students?”
Crap. I hadn’t thought of that. I hadn’t even tried to link with them today.
“Katelyn said Megan has the most flawless soprano voice she’s ever heard,” Piaras said.
I remembered something Carnades had said in the Scriptorium. Ailia Aurillac studied mirror magic, alchemy—and spellsinging.
“Is Ailia Aurillac one of Ronan’s students, too?” I asked.
Piaras thought for a moment. “I don’t think so. But she could still be a spellsinger. The college has an entire department for it. Maestro Cayle isn’t the only professor. I’ll be taking a class with one of the other maestros next term.” He smiled ruefully. “If I’m still here.”
I wondered about the boy I’d seen in the room with Megan and Ailia. Was he a spellsinger? I’d ask Mychael if Sedge Rinker had a missing-person name to go with the description I’d given him.
Two spellsingers in Banan Ryce’s possession could be a coincidence. Three spellsingers was a collection.
If I wouldn’t be here to find those students, I’d do everything to make sure Sedge Rinker could.
I went over to my bed and slipped my hand under the mattress until I felt the bag with the hairbrush and locket. The last time I’d linked with Ailia I hadn’t been able to see any more of their surroundings than I had before. I took out the cloth bundle with Megan’s hairbrush and unwrapped it.
“Is that Megan’s?” Piaras asked.
“Yes, it is.” I sat in one of the chairs by the fireplace and held the brush in both hands. The link took longer to establish than it had before. Maybe Banan had strengthened the wards around them or… The connection came, sharp and clear.
The students had been moved. And I could see where they were.
They weren’t in a room. They were in a cell, and the walls were solid rock. This wasn’t anywhere in the city—it was under the city. I clutched the brush harder. Now we were getting somewhere.
There was still only Megan, Ailia, and the boy. Banan hadn’t kidnapped any more students, or if he had, I couldn’t see them through Megan’s eyes. The bars of their cell weren’t rounded as they were in more modern cells; these were flat pieces of iron overlapping eac
h other to form squares. These cells were old, but apparently still in working order. They didn’t make them like that anymore. Their age should make where they were easier to find. Megan and the boy were holding hands. He was protective of her, but Megan looked like she needed it less than she had before. Good. Ailia was pacing.
The light was good enough for Megan to see outside the cell. There were two Nightshade guards, and there was another cell across from theirs. A cell block. That should be even easier to pinpoint. I broke the contact.
Mychael needed to know what I’d seen.
Vegard and Riston were on guard duty outside my newly replaced door.
“I need to see the paladin,” I told Vegard.
“He’s not here, ma’am.” He paused uncomfortably. “He and the archmagus had to go to the elven embassy.”
My stomach tried to do a flip. Taltek Balmorlan just wouldn’t give up. If Mychael and Justinius had to go to the elven embassy in person, then the old man was probably playing the last card in his hand. I hoped for my and Piaras’s sakes that it was a good one.
I took a breath and stood straighter. “Fine. Then I need to get a message to Sedge Rinker—directly to him, no one else. Can you arrange that for me?”
“I can,” Vegard said.
“Good. I’ll just need a pen and some paper. And have the messenger wait for a response. I need to know if Rinker has the name of the boy who was taken yesterday. I also need to know if he’s a spellsinger. The two kidnapped girls are spellsingers.”
Vegard stood motionless. “Are you certain?”
“Positive.” I smiled in grim satisfaction. “But if your chief watcher knows this island as well as he should, he could be on the verge of finding them all.”
Vegard left to deliver my note to a Guardian courier; he came back accompanied by a swaggering vision in scarlet.
Phaelan was wearing his on-shore-leave-and-getting-laid clothes. His doublet was scarlet buckskin with matching breeches topped with high, black leather boots. At his side was his favorite swept-hilt rapier, and a single ruby earring gleamed in the lobe of one elegantly pointed ear.
I looked him up and down. “Going out this evening?”
“Absolutely. With you and Piaras.”
“You’re going to the recital.” Piaras’s relieved smile was like the sun coming out.
Phaelan nodded. “I thought I’d sample Mid’s cultural riches.”
I raised a brow. “And?”
“And what?”
“You hate mages, you barely tolerate academics, and you told me once that highborn elves give you a rash.”
“I’m prepared to deal with the discomfort to ensure the safety of my family. That includes you, too,” he told Piaras.
“Thank you,” Piaras said earnestly.
“Don’t mention it.”
I approved of family-ensured safety. The Guardians would arrest first, ask questions later. Phaelan would kill first, no questions asked.
“I’ve told Piaras what we might have to do tonight,” I said.
Phaelan nodded. “I know you don’t like it, kid. But trust me—the view’s a lot better from outside cell bars. I speak from experience.”
“I don’t want that experience,” Piaras said.
My cousin grinned wolfishly. “That’s why I’m here. And that’s why I’m going to the recital. Aside from my incomparable bodyguard services, there’s the entertainment value of rich people clutching their jewels when I walk through the door. You just can’t buy that kind of fun.”
“We want you there,” I told him. “The question is, will Mychael let you?”
“My presence is paladin approved.”
I snorted. “Since when?”
Phaelan’s grin vanished. “Since I told him there was no way in hell the two of you were going into that hornet’s nest without me.”
“Thank you.” And I meant it.
His dark eyes were as serious as I’d ever seen them. “That’s what family is for.” Then the rogue was back. “That and jailbreaks. Speaking of which, Tanik Ozal is in port.”
I swore silently. Next to our family, the Ozals were the second-most-notorious criminal family in the seven kingdoms. What Tanik Ozal was doing here boded no good for local law enforcement or anyone else. Anything he and Phaelan tried to pull would come back to splatter on me. After today, I wasn’t in the mood to be splattered.
“Phaelan,” I said in warning.
My cousin raised his hands defensively. “We’re not up to anything. Tanik wants to help.”
An Ozal promising help was like a shark promising not to eat you.
“Tanik’s here to bring his son back to school,” Phaelan continued. “I told him about the two of you getting hung out to dry, and he wants to help in any way he can.” Phaelan’s grin was cheerfully evil. “And he said if it involves blowing anything up, all the better. But for starters, I’ve asked him to keep an eye on his neighbors. He’s docked in a prime slip; Mal’Salin and Khrynsani craft on one side, and that elven intelligence agent’s yacht on the other. And if you buy a lot of drinks for some of Balmorlan’s crew, you find out all sorts of fascinating things, like their captain’s told them to be ready to leave fast. They even have a pair of weather wizards on board to help it happen.”
I swore.
“Yeah, I thought it was interesting, too. And the Khrynsani ship has her bow pointed toward open water. Tanik said they had to do a lot of maneuvering to get her that way. Anyway, Tanik says he’ll keep watch for us.”
“Thank him for me,” I said.
“I already have. And if we do this thing, you’ll get a chance to thank him yourself.”
I frowned. “Phaelan, no. Absolutely no.”
“Cousin, if we want to leave this island, it’s not going to be on the Fortune. Stealth is called for, and the paladin has got my lady wrapped in cloaking spells, and a few other things my men discovered when they tried to raise anchor. Key word there is ‘tried.’ ”
I didn’t move. “You couldn’t raise anchor?”
“Not an inch. The paladin has made sure we’re not going anywhere.”
“Mychael wouldn’t do that.” I said it, but I wasn’t so sure.
His duty was to keep the Saghred on the island. Until I was no longer bonded to the Saghred, that same mind-set would have to apply to me. Mychael would do his duty at all costs.
"Damn,” I muttered.
Phaelan nodded slowly. “Now you’re getting the picture. Since he cut off one exit, we’ll just take another. Tanik’s Zephyr is a nimble little craft, no high tides needed for her to leave the harbor. He’ll drop us off at Mermeia. I sent a message to Dad before we left Mermeia last week. By now he’ll be waiting there just in case we need him.”
“Commodore” Ryn Benares was Phaelan’s dad, my uncle, and the main reason the name Benares struck terror everywhere it was mentioned. Beneath his reputation lurked a softy, at least to his children—and Uncle Ryn considered me one of his own. It’d be nice to see him again. From Mermeia we could go anywhere.
“What about your crew?” I asked.
“What about them?”
“When Mychael finds out I’m missing, if he doesn’t put your ship on lockdown, the Twelve will. Your crew will probably be taken into custody.”
Phaelan shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time. And they’ll probably be confined to the ship, not taken into the citadel. No lawman I’ve ever run afoul of wants to take a pirate crew off their ship and through town. Too many chances for bad things to happen. And my crew’s known for bad things. Mychael, or whoever, will leave my men right where they are. They’ll just post more guards. My men know what to do. Lay low, keep quiet, and sit tight until I get back. It’s not like they haven’t done it before. They know the drill.”
I exhaled. “I don’t like it, but it’s like you said—we’re not exactly flush with options here. Okay, listen up. One block down from Sirens is a row of town houses. There’s a street that runs behind them. That tim
e of night that street should be nice and dark, and from there it’s a straight shot to the harbor. We’ll meet there if we get separated.”
I looked questioningly at Piaras. He nodded grimly.
Phaelan clapped and rubbed his hands together. “Good, that’s settled.” He took a small velvet pouch out of his doublet. “You said your gown’s black, right?”
I nodded. Riston’s wife had gone shopping for me this morning. The fruit of her labor hung in my closet. Normally I didn’t care for gowns, but I had to admit I liked this one. It was the softest black velvet I’d ever felt, its long sleeves were tight, and the gown itself was perfectly cut, sleekly styled, with a short train. With my pale skin and red gold hair, black had always been my best friend. If I had to walk into a hornet’s nest tonight—or make a quick getaway—at least I’d look good doing it.
“Here.” Phaelan tossed a drawstring bag to me. I opened it and a choker of creamy gray pearls spilled out into my hand. The clasp was an ornate, diamond bow. Very nice.
I gave him my best fess-up look. “How hot is it?”
Phaelan’s dark eyes went wide and innocent. “Pardon?”
“Hot, stolen, missing, no longer where it’s supposed to be—”
He grinned crookedly. “They’ve cooled down.”
“Is there any chance the former owner will be at Sirens tonight?”
“That would depend on who’s invited.”
“Maybe a better question would be, ‘Who should I avoid?’ ”
He shrugged. “I took it off a ship going to Nebia.”
“Are there any Nebian royals or merchants among Ronan’s students?” I asked Piaras.
“Not that I’m aware of.” The kid was fighting a grin and losing. I should have known better than to think anyone in my family could set a good moral example. Though it was nice to see Piaras smile.
I sighed. “They are beautiful. I’ll chance it.”
“There’s a matching bracelet and earrings in the bag, too,” Phaelan said brightly.
Of course there were. Never let it be said my cousin stole anything halfway.
Chapter 17
