by TR Cameron
She led the way down the stairs cautiously but quickly. “Light,” she ordered, and Tanyith created a globe of flame and threw it forward. It revealed a large room with mystic runes etched on the floor. “No one move,” the agent said and they all froze in place. “Do you see this?”
“Yeah,” Glam confirmed. “The computer is searching for matches now. It looks like something elvish but not in a language we have on file.”
Cara growled annoyance. “Awesome. Is that thing in the middle what I think it is?” Cali hadn’t noticed anything in the center of the room, so she stared harder until she finally saw it. A necklace rested at the center point of the markings, seemingly made of teeth. Some were human-sized and others were definitely not human.
Diana joined the conversation. “It has to be, Croft. Does it feel right?”
“Yeah, it does.” As the other woman spoke, Cali realized her skin was crawling and presumed that’s what they were referring to. “So, my thought is telekinesis.”
The lead agent replied, “Agreed. Do it.”
Cara sighed and said, “Okay, y’all, get back up the stairs and be ready to run.” They complied and a moment later, she barreled toward them. “Got it. I’m sure we set alarms off now if we didn’t before. Let’s go—out the front. Hercules, bring the car to us.”
They burst out the door and sprinted to the gate in the wall. The agent battered it with force blasts when they were still a fair distance away and Cali and Tanyith followed suit. Fyre flew overhead and added a barrage of ice to the metal. It yielded seconds before the car arrived, driven remotely by the pilot.
“Get in.” Cara ran around the back, lifted the rear hatch, and slammed it shut again a moment later. She fell into the driver’s seat and they accelerated toward the plane. “Hey, Peng’s guy,” she said into the comm, “Meet us at the rendezvous in twenty-five minutes.” She threw her comm into the protected box and waited as they did the same. “We have an analysis device in the back. It’s scanning what we took so at least we’ll know everything there is to know about it before we hand it over.”
Cali shook her head. “I’ll never be able to repay you for this.”
Tanyith laughed. “Think of it this way. If they’d managed to buy it for ten thousand dollars, you really wouldn’t have been able to pay them back. Maybe they’ll let you be the base bartender for the next century or so.”
She let herself collapse in the back seat and rested her head on Fyre’s surprisingly soft scales. “Cara, please stun Tanyith. He talks too much.” Laughter was the only response as she closed her eyes and let the Draksa’s breathing soothe her jangled nerves. She focused on the fact that as soon as they made the trade, she’d be one step closer to freeing her brother.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Danna and Ozahl had arrived for dinner together and the mage wore a new disguise that she’d never seen. This was the one they planned to show Usha and the one he’d use in most circumstances until their future was secured. He’d said he might go back to looking like Aiden Walsh after that but honestly, she was a fan of the current choice.
His body was the closest he’d worn to his real one in public for some time, as far as she knew. It was trim and athletic, more a swimmer’s figure than anything particularly muscular but attractive nonetheless. The face, though, was very different. He had chosen a distinguished look, a little older than his actual age—or at least what she thought was his actual age—with a few smile lines at the corners of his eyes. His nose was sharp and suited his other features well, and the rings around his irises were bright blue. His sandy blonde hair was cut into a longish professional style.
He’d done away with the slouchy clothes his previous persona had worn. Tonight, he sported a fine-looking dark-blue shirt and pale-yellow tie, having opted to go without a jacket for the evening. She had chosen a dress, simply to provide a contrast, and the black sheath was snug in all the right places while it covered everything adequately. She wore dark stockings and low heels. Her healing potion was in her patent leather clutch, along with a lipstick and emergency makeup.
She had been busy with her responsibilities since the battle at the cathedral and sensed that her partner was bored now that his main occupation was no more. That had led to the decision to spend an evening out together like they were two ordinary people, more or less. She’d called ahead and reserved a secluded table at a local restaurant that served amazing Ghanaian food, heavy on the creams and the spices. The international cuisine options in New Orleans were something she’d miss when they lived in New Atlantis.
Although, as nobles, I suppose we can portal to wherever we want and whenever we want, within reason. They’d be targets once their work was complete but that wouldn’t be anything particularly unfamiliar for either of them.
Over a basket of sweet sugar rolls and glasses of wine, they traded small talk, flirty lines of little or no consequence. She could tell that he itched to move beyond it, even though he did his best to hide it. With a smirk, she said, “Okay, you’ve done enough to earn your excellent boyfriend star for the day. What is it you’re trying not to say?”
The mage looked shocked for a second, then burst into laughter. His grin showed his almost perfect teeth, although he’d given himself a single slightly crooked one, doubtless for the sake of believability.
His voice hadn’t changed and was still low and delicious. “Well, now that we’ve crossed one problem off the list, it’s probably time we took a look at the others.”
She nodded. “You’re right. It’s been a whole five days since the big event. We’re slacking.” Her teasing sarcasm made him laugh again.
“You haven’t been. But me, on the other hand? All I’ve done is try on new outfits.”
“Fair enough.” She grinned and took a sip of her Malbec. “So, what did you have in mind?”
“It appears our initial plan to destroy Cormier while everyone is distracted by Leblanc and Malniet is doomed. The rumors are that there will soon be a marriage between Malniet and Cormier, which doubtless means that if the ruling line was to falter, there’s almost certainly a deal in place for Malniet relatives to take it over.”
She frowned. “Do you think Empress Shenni would be okay with that?”
He shrugged. “Honestly, I imagine she’s already involved and would probably try a double-cross. But that merely substitutes Rivette for Malniet taking control of the fallen house. No, we’ll need to go in another direction, unfortunately.”
They paused while their main dishes arrived—shredded chicken over rice in two different sauces. They’d trade plates halfway through so they could enjoy some of each. After sampling her food and almost swooning with delight, Danna asked, “So, that means Leblanc, right?”
Her companion pointed his fork at her. “Not necessarily. I think Styrris Malniet has made a grave error here. His own house is now in jeopardy as well. Depending on how much damage the girl does to him, it may turn out that his family is the one lost to history.”
She considered his words. “How do we take advantage of that?”
Ozahl shrugged. “We watch and wait and see where we can strike a decisive blow to make things go our way.”
“It might not be an issue, soon.”
“What’s up with that, anyway?”
Danna had told him about the intention to end the ritual combat with Leblanc but hadn’t had additional details to share until the day before when Usha called her in to discuss their plans. It had been a pleasant couple of hours spent in the land of “what if,” but they’d failed to come up with anything more solid than the initial idea. “We’ll challenge her to a final battle and field our best fighters against her. Either we’ll win—in which case, the fight to replace House Leblanc begins—or we’ll lose, which means our group can’t mess with the girl anymore.”
“That doesn’t stop you, though, right?”
“I left the rules behind long ago, love, as did you.” She grinned.
His expression mat
ched hers. “Very true. Okay, do you want to do a little rule-breaking before the fight? We could perhaps eliminate some of her supporters?”
She chewed thoughtfully and took a sip of her wine before she answered. “I don’t think so. She’s done well so far and I think maybe we should let her make an honest attempt unless you believe we need her to lose in order to reach our objectives. Now, quit hogging and give me your plate.”
With a laugh, he traded with her. “No, not ‘need.’ It might be easier since there are so few left in the main bloodline and no ancillary ones, but we can always keep that as a backup plan. As long as we take action in the shadows, there’s no reason to believe that Styrris and his clan are any particular danger to us.”
“How about the Empress? If she’s backing him?”
“She is an opportunist at her core. She’ll wait until she sees where the current is headed and then find a way to steer it to her benefit. I can’t imagine she’d risk herself to save him, even if they’re currently working together.”
“That makes sense. So maybe the better question is, how can we undermine Malniet?”
“I hear more rumors that suggest the girl has offered him a final battle according to an old tradition. It’s a logical move since he has way more family than she does. There’s no guarantee he’ll agree, of course, but I do wonder if it would help him decide more easily to find some of those he might depend on in future fights suddenly unavailable.”
Her grin immediately revealed her interest. “What do you suggest, exactly?”
He shrugged. “Some threats to get them out of town. Maybe light kidnapping if it becomes necessary but certainly nothing more than that.”
“They’ll be more likely to identify your disguises down there, you know.”
The mage nodded and waited while the staff cleared their empty plates away. “I’ll have to use a little stagecraft here and there, for sure, in case someone sees through the magic. It’s not a problem.”
“Okay, then. It sounds as if we have a plan.”
“Thank goodness. I was likely to die of boredom if this period of peace continued much longer.”
Danna laughed and they continued to talk about inconsequential things over dessert, exactly like normal people.
One day, hopefully, we’ll be normal people who also happen to lead a noble house.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Emalia looked in the mirror and admired the work the tailor had accomplished. When she’d decided to enter the game on Caliste’s behalf, it was obvious that some weapons would be required. While her great-niece fought with swords and magic, her battles would be with words and required the right outfits to enhance her credibility.
She’d done her research and found a designer on the cutting edge of Atlantean fashion. It had shifted from frilly to functional again, another turn of the wheel that moved between styles every five years or so and often brought back elements from the past or occasionally broke new ground.
The designer had chosen to blend old and new in this particular selection. It was a loose dress that fell mostly straight to the waist and widened in a flowing skirt. The pattern was subtle, turquoise on blue, and gave the illusion of sunlight filtering through waves. Metal compass symbols pinned a cape at her shoulders that swept back to hang to the backs of her knees. It was light and airy and would be at the mercy of any breeze. The suggestion had been made that she use magic to keep it in place, which was likely the point of the extra item—to show that magic was so easy for a noble, they could use it for their wardrobe.
It’s showy but it’s all part of the game.
To complete the outfit, she wore earrings and a necklace—both of coral and pearls—and carried a small purse on a golden chain over her shoulder. Inside were the usual things found in a noblewoman’s bag, including a brush, makeup, a small vial of perfume, and so on. Hidden within the handle of the brush were two tiny listening devices and two slightly larger receivers. If the opportunity presented itself, she would leave them in useful locations, despite Cali’s misgivings.
Jenkins spoke quietly from the corner of the room. “You should leave in the next few minutes to arrive on time, Miss Emalia.”
She smiled at her reflection, which looked both elegant and confident. “Thank you. Please ask Invel to meet me in the entryway.”
Calm and resolved, she walked carefully down the stairs. The heels she wore were a little higher than she preferred but essential to accentuate the cape and provide an extra illusion of height for the ensemble. The Dark Elf smiled at her as she descended. He was dressed in a shirt and slacks appropriate for the walk to the palace. As she stepped beside him, he offered her his arm and she took it and gave it a squeeze. “It’s good to have you here.”
He beamed, a look with more than a trace of roguishness in it. “It’s lovely to spend so much time with you, my darling.” He’d taken to using that pet name since coming to New Atlantis, and she found it mildly surprising that it didn’t bother her at all to hear it. Quite the opposite, really. She wouldn’t have thought she was in the right place in her life for romance but apparently, the universe had other plans.
“Charmer. Jenkins,” she said to the air, “if I’m not back in a few hours, send Cali to inquire at the palace and at House Terriau.”
The disembodied voice replied, “Yes, Miss Emalia.”
Invel opened the door and ushered her through.
She left the Dark Elf in a small chamber at the side of the entryway. Gwyn had overseen the searching of her bag and his person and found nothing objectionable. The seneschal escorted her deeper into the palace and turned down a hallway to a part of the building Emalia had never been in before.
“Is this the path to the dungeon?” She quipped,
The other woman chuckled. “No, not at all. It’s simply one of many meeting spaces. The Empress has decided to see visitors in this one today. She does change her preference from time to time.”
Maybe because she wants to throw off potential assassins. I’d worry if I were her, the way things are going lately. “It certainly makes sense. She must get bored with the same routine, exactly as we all do.”
“I suppose so, although she never complains of it. I, on the other hand, very much enjoy a change of pace.”
Emalia nodded. “Which is also entirely understandable.” They passed a washroom and she asked, “May I stop for a moment? My hair has an issue.” It did, one that she and Invel had deliberately created on the way over. She pointed at the offending locks. “It will only take a second.”
Gwyn smiled. “Of course.” She took a position in the hallway that would enable her to watch as Emalia hurried into the small chamber and stood in front of the mirror.
She had practiced until she had the action perfect and now ejected the first set of devices from the brush handle and palmed them without discovery. Once she returned the item to her purse, she tucked the tiny objects into an almost invisible pocket on the exterior of the bag. She slung it over her shoulder, rubbed her palms together, and exited. “Thanks so much.”
The seneschal shrugged and began to walk again. They made a couple of turns and stopped outside an open doorway. Inside the room, Shenni sat with the matriarch of House Cormier, drinking from small cups, with a teapot between them. The Empress smiled at her arrival. “Emalia, do join us. Gwyn, pull up another chair.”
She took the offered seat, formed a triangle with the other women, and took the Empress’s extended hand to kiss, even though the setting didn’t require it. The leader of House Cormier was a mousy woman with brown hair and darting eyes, thin almost to the point of ill health. Shenni was dressed in monarch-casual, a long robe in the palace’s particular shade of blue. Her ruler let the silence hang for a moment, doubtless for her amusement, before she spoke. “Brielle and I were discussing her impending nuptials.”
Emalia smiled. “I had heard a rumor about that. Congratulations, Matriarch. I hope this is a love match as well as a political one.” All re
lationships among the nobles were political and from what she could see, this arrangement was entirely that. While Styrris wasn’t repulsive physically, the man’s personality was unbearable.
The other woman returned the smile but it seemed forced. “Thank you. I know it’s the right thing to do.”
Shenni interrupted before she could comment on the wishy-washy answer. “So, what brings the representative of House Leblanc to the palace today?”
She shifted her position to face her more directly. “I have come with a request, Empress.”
“Very well. Let’s hear it.”
“Butt out.” She said it with a smile but it was, nonetheless, a bold thing to say to one’s ruler.
The Empress laughed and broke into a grin. “Ah, that’s why I love your family, Emalia. You have no interest in banter and simply go directly to the point. Would you care to elaborate?”
“Actually, I guess this involves the matriarch as well.” She inclined her head toward Brielle. “House Leblanc currently has a disagreement with House Malniet. We feel the apparent involvement of the palace—which has been the subject of several rumors—would create an inappropriate imbalance and prevent Patriarch Styrris from making wise choices. Caliste asked me to request that you remain neutral in this matter.”
Her two companions exchanged glances before the Empress looked directly at her. The other woman’s eyes seemed angry and pierced her own. She maintained a calm demeanor and waited for her reply. After a moment, Shenni provided it. “I’m afraid your matriarch’s beliefs are incorrect. The palace has no role in or opinion on your endeavor. Our supposed ‘involvement’ is simply in the binding of the two houses, Malniet and Cormier.”
She turned to speak to Brielle. As she did so, Emalia palmed the tiny listening device and attached it to the bottom of her chair in another much-practiced movement. She continued to lean forward to adjust the strap on her shoe, then straightened again. After a few minutes, the Empress addressed her again. “Was there anything else?” The frost in her tone made it clear that there shouldn’t be.
