* * *
“Check.” Widget was happy. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for someone who can give me a decent game.”
Lori feared he was in for a disappointment. Widget refused to believe a computer programmer was not also a chess whiz, and had pulled out a small travel set as soon as the food was cleared away. The other Silver Ravens were playing cards on another table, except for Hippo, who had adopted the role of audience, and was switching back and forth between games.
Lori moved a pawn to block. “Do you really think it will be tomorrow before King Segann agrees to see us?”
“Definitely. He’ll make us wait at least a day, out of pure bloody-mindedness, just to show he can.”
“Nothing like Queen Rianna.” Lori kept her tone neutral.
“Nothing what-so-fucking-ever, as Shorty would say.” Widget picked up his queen from the board and gave it a pantomime kiss. “She’s amazing, and I love her to bits.”
Hippo chipped in, “And she’s a damn sight prettier than him.”
“My arse is prettier than him.”
Lori just smiled and nodded. Why could the Silver Ravens not see the same conniving bitch she did? On the other side of the room, Tamsin had just won another hand. Judging by the comments, this was not unusual. Tamsin’s expression was calm and controlled, a classic poker face. She was clearly reading the other players better than they were reading her. Yet she was being completely outplayed by Rianna. How?
Lori’s confusion must have shown on her face.
“Is the chess making your brain hurt, pet?” Widget returned his queen to the board and moved his bishop.
“It’s a long time since I last played. I—”
The door opened and a boggart entered. He was wearing a leather jacket and helmet, like the guard seen earlier. He stamped to a halt and glared around the room, without the faintest trace of subservience.
Tamsin laid her cards face down on the table. “You have a message from King Segann?”
“Yes. His Majesty, Segann, King of the Bukka, will see you. You must come at once.”
If Tamsin was surprised, she gave no sign. “Wonderful. Finn, you’ll come with me, and—”
Lori cautiously raised her hand. “I’d like to meet the king as well, if that would be okay.”
“Sure. And three’s enough.”
Lori sidled off the bench.
“Running away, are you?” Widget sounded more amused than upset. He switched to English. “Ready to be bowled over by the Mud King’s charm?”
“Something like that.” She gestured at the chessboard. “Hippo can take over for me.”
“Don’t be silly. He can’t tell a rook from a prawn.”
Hippo frowned. “Don’t you mean pawn?”
“In your case, no.”
Hippo laughed good-naturedly and flicked a chess piece at Widget.
Lori smiled. If she stayed in Annwyn, could she make friends and fit in, maybe even win over Finn? Not that it was going to happen with Rianna in the picture.
Outside in the square, evening was drawing on, but the streets of Mud Town were as chaotic as before, especially so when viewed from ground level, rather than horseback. Lori felt vulnerable, although the crowds still parted meekly to let them through. Was it the sight of three humans or their escort, marching in the lead, swinging his club?
“Why did you want to come?” Tamsin asked in English.
“Curiosity.”
“You know what that did for the cat, don’t you?”
“As I said, this is my chance to see Annwyn. I want to make the most of it.” Dammit—it was the truth. Thoughts of Mum and Dad were becoming stronger. So why fight it?
“I hope you don’t come to regret leaving Caersiddi.”
Like that’s going to happen.
“This is…” Tamsin was frowning.
“You think something’s up?”
“Yes. Segann agreeing to meet us this quickly means he wants something. On past form, that isn’t a good sign.”
“As the queen’s representative, don’t you have the upper hand? Can’t you say no if he’s unreasonable?”
“Annwyn politics. I can’t afford to piss him off. Like I told you, fay don’t acknowledge boggart magic. As soon as I tell him why I’m here, he’ll know I’m acting on my own. He can deny having any way to find where Gilwyn is, and there’ll be nothing I can do about it. I need his cooperation.”
They crossed over a river. The other side was cleaner, calmer, and clearly wealthier. This was where rich boggarts lived, although it still would not count as a prime location on Earth. The ground rose to a headland, overlooking the sea. At the top was a jumble of buildings. This had to be their destination.
When they finally reached it, if King Segann’s palace was not exactly what Lori expected, neither did it surprise her. The surrounding wall and gaggle of guards at the gate gave it the look of a fortified compound rather than a royal residence.
The gate was solid wooden timbers, stout enough to withstand a siege and wide enough for a carriage to drive through. At the guard’s shout, the sounds of a bar being lifted came from the other side. The gate opened sufficiently for the party to enter one at a time, and then it was slammed shut. King Segann was clearly worried about unwelcome visitors.
An interlinked sprawl of poorly maintained buildings took up most of the compound. The strips of lawn were more weeds than grass. The overall effect fell somewhere between rundown fort and a prison. More guards gathered by the entrance to the main building. One placed herself squarely in the middle of the doorway and folded her arms.
“Leave your weapons here. All of them.”
Tamsin and Finn had their handguns and knives ready to turn over before being told.
The surly guard turned to Lori. “You too.”
She fumbled with the catch on her holster. The pistol was part of the standard kit. Up until then, the unfamiliar weight on her hip had been off-putting. Now she felt anxious without it. Maybe she should have stayed behind.
They were escorted into a room with the look of a medieval banqueting hall, minus any of the quaint, decorative touches. The tables and benches running the length on either side could each have sat forty boggarts. Fading daylight was supplemented by lanterns giving off a pungent smoke that did nothing to mask other odours. Unwashed bodies and stagnant water were two Lori recognised. She tried not to think about the rest.
King Segann sat behind the high table on the dais at the end of the hall. He appeared older than most other boggarts, and fatter. The nose ring would have helped her determine his sex, had she not already known. A cape of shimmering fay cloth was draped over his shoulders, and a golden circlet held down lank wisps of hair on his round head.
Guards lined the walls. Another clump of attendants huddled in a dark corner behind the king. They were further concealed by long robes and hoods that cast deep shadows. Their faces were hidden except for where lantern light glinted on eyes and teeth, making the group look like deranged monks from a horror movie.
King Segann’s gaze was shrewd and calculating, neither hostile nor welcoming. It fixed on Tamsin as she stopped before the table and gave the smallest of bows.
“Captain. It’s good to welcome you here again.” His voice was a raw, dry whisper that carried the length of the hall.
“The honour is mine. Thank you for graciously agreeing to see us so soon after our arrival in Trethbuder.”
“Always, I am happy to see you. But what brings the Silver Ravens here this time?”
“A small matter—embarrassingly so. I almost feel guilty at wasting your time, but I have a favour to ask.”
“Think of me as a friend. Ask.”
“Her Majesty, Queen Rianna, has lost something.”
“Something valuable?”
“Very. Her nephew. He’s run away from Caersiddi. A juvenile prank, no more. Her Majesty is anxious no harm should come to him. I hoped one of your subjects might have news of hi
s whereabouts.”
“Who is this nephew?”
“Gilwyn, son of the queen’s late sister.”
“Ah yes, him. I’d heard he was at another of Queen Rianna’s castles—Caerbonec wasn’t it?”
“He was, but he recently joined her at Caersiddi, until last night, when he ran away.”
“Families can be so much trouble.”
Tamsin nodded in reply.
What the two were not saying was clearly every bit as important as what they were. Before then, Lori had viewed boggarts with sympathy. The humans treated them almost as badly as fay did. However, she had assumed the small creatures lacked intelligence. Yet, the king was going toe to toe with Tamsin in the verbal fencing. Either he was exceptional, or boggarts were definitely playing dumb in Caersiddi.
Thoughtfully, King Segann picked at one of his long canines, while his eyes never left Tamsin. He beckoned one of the robed figures forward. The pair conferred briefly in whispers, before the king turned back to Tamsin.
“It’s a strange thing, but I’ve recently lost one of my kin as well.”
“How odd.”
“Isn’t it? A cousin of mine has gone missing. Nysian is his name. He was working for me, looking after the mines at Wydlow. Ten days ago, he vanished.”
“You’ve no idea where he might be?”
“None at all.” King Segann shook his head sadly. “Nysian was always rash. I expect he’s just gone exploring and not told anyone. He might even be on his way to visit me here. I’d be very keen to see him. We’ve not spoken for a while.”
“We’ll be happy to look into this matter for you.”
“You would? Thank you. I know it’s foolish to worry. I’m sure he’ll turn up, safe and sound. But I’m thinking how awful if he’s been hurt. Accidents can happen to any of us.”
“Exactly. I’ll discuss this with the rest of my squad, and we’ll start looking for him first thing tomorrow.”
“Good. While you do this, I’ll see what I can find out about this missing nephew.” King Segann nodded. “Hopefully, we’ll talk again soon, with a happy outcome for us both.”
Tamsin gave another small bow. “Hopefully.”
Nothing more was said until they were outside the king’s compound and on their way back to the inn. Finn added a globule of spit to the refuse covering the street. “Another bloody ghost hunt.”
Chapter Fourteen
The Silver Ravens gathered around Tamsin.
“What’s the score, Captain?” Shorty asked in English.
“Segann has family problems.”
“Someone he wants rid of?”
“He doesn’t know for sure. His cousin Nysian is supposed to be overseeing the Wydlow mines, but has gone AWOL. Most likely scenario, he’s been murdered.”
“Or assassinated,” Finn added.
“Aren’t they the same thing?” Lori asked.
“From Nysian’s point of view, maybe,” Tamsin said. “But murder is either random or personal. Assassination is political, so it’s more worrying to Segann, since he could be next in line. And of course, the other likely option is that Nysian is going to make his own bid for power. That’s what Segann meant when he said his cousin might be on the way to visit him.” She frowned. “So what can anyone remember about Nysian?”
“Snivelling little runt,” Finn said. “He didn’t kick off when Segann claimed the throne. Not like his sister did. Instead he supported Segann’s bid and got command of Wydlow afterwards, partly reward, partly to keep him out of the way.”
“Right. So why might he start trouble now, when he didn’t before? Because that’s the way Segann is thinking. But I don’t know why.”
“Segann’s a sharp bugger,” Widget said. “He’s had his arse on the Mud Throne for over three years now. You don’t do that without growing eyes in the back of your head.”
Tamsin looked Lori’s way. “I don’t suppose you picked up on anything at the meeting?”
“No. I was struggling to keep up with all the stuff going on between the lines. Most of it didn’t make much sense to me. Like, I assume there’s a reason he can’t tap into that shared boggart consciousness you talked about and find his cousin without our help.”
“It’s because the weave doesn’t work that way, from what we understand. Not that any human will ever fully get to grips with it. The hooded group standing behind Segann are called the Derwyddon. They watch the weave for him, and when they all work together they can influence the flow of the weave, to help keep Segann in power.”
“They make him Master of the Dreamtime,” BH said.
Tamsin grinned. “Which is a poetic way of looking at it. As boggarts go, all Segann’s family are powerful magicians, but some are stronger than others. Nysian’s sister bumped off their mother to get a chance at the throne but couldn’t stand up to Segann. Since Nysian caved in, it implies he’s weaker than his sister. But he’ll still have enough power to hide from the Derwyddon. For Segann, finding his cousin is like looking for an invisible needle in a world-sized haystack. Once he’s found his cousin, he’ll overpower him. Until then, Nysian is—”
“A prick in waiting.” Shorty raised a laugh.
“That’s if he hasn’t been murdered. Whichever it is, we need to cover both bases. If another boggart overthrows Segann, there’s no guarantee they’ll help us find Gilwyn. We’ll split into two teams. Finn, take Hippo and BH and see what you can find out at the mines. Your team needs to leave at first light tomorrow.”
“Right, Captain.”
“Widget will set up base here in the inn. Shorty, Lori, and me will hunt for Nysian in Mud Town. Which means, Lori,” Tamsin looked at her, “you’ve got the job of eyeball.”
“Tough luck,” BH said with feeling. “Normally it’s me.”
“Eyeball?”
“For the ghost hunt.” Hippo also looked sympathetic.
The role of eyeball clearly came with a downside. “What do I have to do?”
“Remember saying Mud Town was the last place to remove your torc?” Tamsin asked.
“Yes.”
“This is the exception to the rule.”
“I have to take my torc off?” Already, Lori was not liking the idea.
“Afraid so.”
“And why is that a good idea?”
“If Nysian is here he’ll be using illusion to hide from Segann’s guards. However, iron torcs block illusions. So we’ll have no idea what the boggarts are seeing, and they’ll have no idea what we’re not seeing.”
Widget had been digging around in a large rucksack. He held up two metal hoops, smaller than the torc. “You need to wear these amulets.”
“They’re iron?”
“Yup.”
“They work like a torc?”
“Not quite.”
“How, not quite?”
“They’re lighter and farther from your head. They’ll give you some protection, but you’ll still be seeing the illusions. Except…” Widget laid the amulets on the table, and then held up a small jar. “You’ll put this paste on one eye. It’s an iron compound. Between it and the amulets, that eye will be able to see things as they really are. But the other eye won’t. It’s the mismatch where you’ll be looking for clues.”
Lori did not feel any happier. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but why me? Wouldn’t it be better if whoever’s playing eyeball is more familiar with things?”
Tamsin looked apologetic. “It’s not just visual illusions we need to worry about. Illusion affects all your senses. The amulets won’t protect you against sound and touch.”
Or pain. “I, um…”
“That’s why it needs to be the weakest member of the team physically. Me and Shorty will be with you at all time, ready to snap the torc back on at the first sign of trouble.”
What option did she have? I asked to come along. I was warned. Lori nodded and raised her hand to her neck. “Okay.”
Finn grabbed her wrist, moving with the speed of a snak
e striking. “First put on the amulets. Then take off the torc.”
He acted if he was talking to an idiot. But maybe she was, to have let herself get caught up in this. “Right.” She reached for the amulets.
Widget came around the table, holding the open jar. “Can you close either eye? Otherwise I’ve got an eyepatch.”
“Yes.”
“Good-oh.”
He smeared a liberal coating around Lori’s right eye, gently dabbing more on the lid. The ointment was bright green, and undoubtedly looked ridiculous, although, in the circumstances, her appearance did not register on Lori’s list of concerns.
Widget replaced the lid on the jar. “How’s that?”
Lori opened her right eye, then cautiously removed her torc. “Whoa.”
“Are you all right?” Tamsin asked.
“I think I’m going to be sick.”
BH laughed. “Welcome to the club.”
Lori closed both eyes. She felt movement on the bench beside her.
“Give it a few moments,” Tamsin said.
“Right.” Lori took a deep breath. “The stink has gone.”
“I can put some ointment on your nose, if you’d like, pet,” Widget offered.
“No, thanks. This is fine.” She was not giving up the one benefit.
Lori experimented with opening one eye at a time. The tavern, seen through her right eye, was the same filthy shambles as before. Through her left eye, the scene changed—cleaner, brighter, the colours richer, the walls and ceiling unstained and whole. The table and benches were still made of heavy beams, but now the effect was sturdy rather than crude. The wood was sanded smooth and showed the grain in the oak.
Opening both eyes together was when the trouble started. Her stomach rebelled. She braced her hands on the table to steady herself. The illusion also changed the feel of the wood, making it flat, without cracks or warping.
“I understand why the boggarts are happy to live with the illusions. But part of me wants to stick with my right eye. I feel I can trust it. Together though…” She opened both eyes. A wave of nausea washed through her. “I feel seasick.”
“Take it steady. You’ve got the rest of this evening to get used to it. We’ll start searching the town in the morning.” Tamsin put a hand under her elbow. “Close your eyes and come with me.”
Silver Ravens Page 18
