One Thousand Kisses

by One Thousand Kisses

  His jaw clenched. “There is no one else.”

  “There’s a city full of someone elses.” Perspiration trickled between her breasts. The fire Embor had started in the hearth had made her room positively steamy.

  “Are you protecting the Torvals?”

  “My, it’s warm in here. Do you mind if I…?” She sidled toward the roaring flames.

  “Answer my question.”

  She busied herself at the hearth, using her magic to draw enough water from the air to snuff the blaze, sizzle by sizzle. “It isn’t my place, or my desire, to protect the Torvals.” If they vacated Court in disgrace, never to appear again, she wouldn’t be sad for one second.

  “They must have done something to upset you.”

  Embor surely realized the Torvals hoped to win the next election. He surely realized what their conversations were like. Perhaps she’d screamed out a mental, “Oh spirits, help me stay awake so I don’t offend the Elders!” but the only person who could hear her mindspeech was Tali.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t recall anything out of the ordinary.”

  He covered his mouth as if hiding a yawn. “Nothing?”

  “I’m sorry.” She bit her fingertip, nipping the cuticle. Tali nagged her about apologizing incessantly and chewing her nails, but Tali wasn’t here. “The evening is a blur.”

  She couldn’t recall anything until Embor had found her in the hallway. Sobbing.

  She remembered tears. Dread. Whiteness.

  “You’re an observant person, Anisette. It seems odd your evening would be a blur.”

  “I had a panic attack. Mental stress can have physical symptoms.” She’d never been strong, not like Tali. Not like Embor and Skythia. Not even like Warran and Ophelia. Was it any surprise she’d crack under the myriad strains?

  “In that case, visit the Court physicians in the morning.”

  “There’s no need.”

  He yawned again and concealed it poorly. Their encounter must have sapped his energy too. “Humor me.”

  Whether or not she pursued it as a career, she was a healer of considerable skill. She’d mastered treatment of everything from bone breaks to panic attacks and was licensed to use those skills for public barter. She’d be fine, if embarrassed, whenever she saw Embor in the future.

  “I don’t like to waste the healers’ time.” She also didn’t want to confess she’d turned her healing magic into a weapon. Logic told her it had been an accident and she wouldn’t be put on probation, but it might invite deeper evaluations she had no wish to endure.

  “It’s an order.”

  Arguments were rarely worth it, especially as she never won any of them. But Ani felt strangely unlike herself. She felt balky. Bothered. Embor’s unspoken rejection of her unspoken offer stung like a needle in the seam of a dress. She knew her healing, and she knew her Realm laws.

  She lifted her chin. “That’s not something the Primary can enforce.”

  He was silent for a moment. Ani clutched her robe and held her breath.

  Finally he said, “If you don’t cooperate, you can explain to the Elder Court why you tried to assassinate me.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “I didn’t—”

  “It’s called blackmail. The Court is rife with it, in case you hadn’t noticed.” He shrugged. “I’ll be here first thing in the morning to accompany you. Don’t argue with me on this matter.”

  Ani started to argue—or apologize—but Embor disappeared in a shimmer of ether without another word.

  Chapter Four

  If he hadn’t vacated Anisette’s chamber, Embor would have had her on her back in that soft, pink bed within the next ten seconds. As their lovemaking would result in a bond, his conscience wouldn’t allow that step without disclosure. He could act shocked by it, certainly, but once the bond cemented, he wouldn’t be able to hide the truth.

  Would she forgive that omission? Ka knows he wouldn’t.

  As he understood it, there wasn’t much worse than a bondmate who resented you. If you disliked your siblings, you could remain separate for some time, but bondmates required closer proximity.

  After reinforcing the invisible perimeter around Anisette’s room, his next step was to take an energy pill. He had to convene an emergency meeting with Skythia and their cabinet about the Torvals, and it wouldn’t do if they sensed his depletion. He’d gotten the tiny globes from an unofficial source when the sleep disturbances had resurfaced. They masked the symptoms but weren’t a cure.

  In fact, one might argue they were an ailment unto themselves, but he had to have them. He had to appear hale and hearty. The globes were provisional.

  He had no idea why the dreams had returned, with such peculiar leanings. He thought he’d eliminated them. These dreams weren’t identical to the originals, but they were equally unsettling and exhausting. Today he’d yawned in public five times, and Warran Torval had questioned his health. If he couldn’t conquer this, his condition would show up in the assessment and wreck his and Skythia’s standing.

  In desperation, he’d discussed it with his source. The man told him to get off the crack and offered sleep globes instead. It hadn’t worked. He’d ended up so muzzed he’d almost taken a sick day. Whereupon the man suggested a human drug called caffeine.

  What had he expected from a fairy who spent that much time in humanspace?

  Once the energy globe kicked in, he alerted his staff. They arrived within minutes, some from dinner, some from bed.

  He waited for everyone to seat themselves in the conference chamber, accessible only by magic. For individuals who couldn’t transport themselves, he and Skythia provided specialized globes. These safeguards had been added in the past fifteen years, many spurred by Talista’s eavesdropping.

  Before she’d come to Court, standard precautions had been sufficient.

  Armchairs, sofas and small tables encircled the conference room, with a plush carpet in the center. Skythia had done away with the customary boardroom setup, and the intimate setting did seem to increase staff rapport.

  Embor assumed his standard position near the hearth, the orange and yellow flames focusing him. As he paced, jittery from the energy globe, he funneled heat out of the room. Not everyone enjoyed a fire at the peak of summer.

  He paused in front of the wood rack. “There’s been a development.”

  “If this is about the AOC investigation,” Skythia began, before Embor cut her off.

  “This is about the Torvals.”

  His hearing had never completely healed from his experience five years ago, but it was enough to distinguish sighs. Skythia bounced her leg, shaking the claw-footed armchair she favored. The wood rasped against the stone floor.

  It was a sound they were all familiar with.

  “You agreed to give up on that a year ago,” she said.

  And he had, as far as anyone at Court realized. He hadn’t included anyone here in his off-the-record investigation. Tricky, since Skythia could occasionally smell lies, but so far so good.

  “I don’t think we should press the Elders this close to elections.” Sonja Stonehaus headed the humanspace search-and-retrieval department. “Even if we had a solid lead for a new mission, the expense alone precludes it.”

  His annoyance surged. For years he’d tried to make the Elder Court, his own sister, see the agents were a threat. They’d responded halfheartedly. He’d come to terms with their blindness and taken matters into his own hands, but it rankled.

  Either way, their assumption was wrong. “Not those Torvals. The ones here.”

  His staff straightened, suddenly more interested. Skythia’s armchair ceased scraping the floor. Public opinion of the Torval Elders was on the rise. With the AOC backing their campaign, some believed they were unstoppable.

  “Those two?” she exclaimed. “Good gorgon, what have they done now? Rumors about misuse of funds? Our failure to demystify the Incident? Our persecution of the AOC? Oh, I’ve got it. I’ve been hearing things about
you being unstable. Likely to snap at any moment.”

  He hadn’t snapped during his first bout with night terrors, and he wouldn’t snap with this one. Nevertheless, his fatigue was worsening. It was probably time to address it with his staff, but it could wait.

  “We’ll come back to the rumors. What I discovered has nothing to do with the campaign.” Embor waited until he had everyone’s attention. He found that looming in front of flames helped. “I have reason to believe the Torval Elders used spirit magic on a Court trainee.”

  A babble of exclamations rose around him.

  “What?”

  “How do you know?”

  “What trainee?”

  He held up a hand until they quieted—even Skythia, the only one in the room eyeing him dubiously. “Tonight I intercepted Princess Anisette in great distress. She—”

  Skythia sprang out of her chair, but instead of expressing concern about the woman everyone in the room knew to be Embor’s future bondmate, she grabbed him by the chin. “What in the hells happened to your face?”

  Blast. He’d forgotten to repair himself. He rubbed the scrape on his cheekbone. “An accident.”

  She yanked his shirt collar, buttons flying. “Bull stones. Don’t tell me you tried to curl your hair with a hot iron and slipped. Can’t lie to me, Em.”

  “Excuse us, Primary.” Sonja and Gangee, his personal physician, nudged Skythia aside, examining Embor’s wounds with professional objectivity.

  “Finger imprints,” Sonja said. “Whoever did it had small bones.”

  Magic swirled as Gangee extended his senses. “Earth-centered pain spell. Recent.” The man’s dark hands erased the bruises on Embor’s throat. “Who attacked you, one of the Torvals? Neither of them has earth.”

  “If we’re talking spirit magic, it’s possible someone was bespelled to attack him,” Sonja said. As far as the Realm was concerned, use of spirit for any reason was punishable by sevendusting. His cabinet knew better. “There’s a lot we don’t know about the element.”

  Embor did know, and it was possible, but he wasn’t about to inform his staff of that.

  “We keep close tabs on all practitioners,” Gangee said. Outside of Jake Story, Gangee was the topmost practitioner of the sixth arts in the Realm. “No one can do that.”

  “Accident,” Embor repeated, enunciating each syllable. Anisette hadn’t meant it. When Gangee’s healing was complete, he rubbed his throat. The skin felt raw.

  Artur of Clan Birm, head of security, pulled a globe from his pocket. “We don’t take threats to our Primaries lightly. An assassination attempt is a matter for the whole Elder Court.”

  “No!” Embor shouted. The flames roared up the chimney. “I was never in danger.” There had been a precarious moment when Anisette’s fingers closed on his throat in the darkness, but her body and scent had staved off any flashbacks—from memories or nightmares.

  Skythia crossed her arms. She was several inches shorter than he was, and he could take her in combat—he could take anyone in combat—but her tongue and intellect were sharper than gnome’s teeth and sometimes more venomous.

  “If you don’t tell us who did this, I’m going to kick your ass.”

  Embor wished she wouldn’t be so informal while conducting business, but he wouldn’t waste time bickering when Anisette’s safety was at stake. “Princess Anisette.”

  “Where did she learn that?” Skythia glared at Gangee. “Did you teach her?”

  “Why would I teach her? She’s Court, not security. She operates under the standard oaths.” Gangee inspected Embor’s neck one last time and said, “The magical residue doesn’t feel refined. She could have improvised.”

  Skythia scrubbed her forehead. “Doesn’t make sense. Sweet little Ani teaching herself to kill people. She can’t even tell that bastard Torval to shove off. Why would she hurt Embor?”

  “It was an instinctive reaction,” Embor said, curious what else Skythia knew about Anisette and Warran, but not curious enough to get sidetracked. “The princess didn’t recognize me. It was dark. She knocked the globe system out.”

  “That shutdown affected half the dormitory,” Artur said. “We have enough trouble with brownouts in this area without worrying about trainees sucking the lights dry.”

  “No harm done. I handled the situation.” His threat to Anisette about accusing her of an assassination attempt had been a ploy. She wasn’t dangerous, and he wouldn’t allow anyone to suspect her of wrongdoing.

  Skythia, whose moods changed like cloud formations, bit back a laugh. No one shared her amusement.

  Sonja adjusted her weapons belt. “The princess really did this to you?”

  “Yes.” His cabinet exchanged a variety of glances, skeptical to stunned. “She’s not to be accused of misconduct, is that clear? Nor is she to be put on probation. She was agitated. I calmed her and questioned her recent activity. She’d been at dinner with the Torvals. She displayed confusion, anxiety, memory loss and atypical behavior.”

  He let them assume he meant the aggression, but that was only one of the peculiar things she’d done. At one point, she’d behaved as if she’d wanted him to kiss her. He’d written it off as lust skewing his powers of observation. He’d been the one to raze her clothing. It wasn’t as if she’d undressed and lain on the bed with her legs spread.

  If she had, he may have broken his vow to tell her about the Seers before they became intimate.

  “In my professional opinion, Princess Anisette wouldn’t easily be driven to violence,” Gangee said. “This isn’t a case where probation is called for. You say she had memory loss?”

  “Confusion, anxiety, memory loss and atypical behavior,” Embor repeated. Why was everyone having so much trouble understanding plain speech? “Mark my words. The Torvals used a memory wipe on her. It’s imperative we find out how and why.”

  Artur returned the alert globe to his pocket. He was the oldest member of their cabinet at four hundred, wily as a leprechaun. “The girl has no good reason to attack you. This may be worth looking into.”

  “Of course it’s worth it,” Embor said. “All in favor?”

  The only one who voted against the motion was Skythia.

  “Sometimes we all want to hurt him.” She jabbed a thumb at Embor, who raised an eyebrow. “She’s his better half, right? If he pissed her off and she gave him what for, you can’t jump to the conclusion she’s in shock from a memory wipe.”

  “Anisette wasn’t…pissed off,” Embor said. “She was agitated and then contrite.” Once her panic ebbed, she hadn’t even been upset about her gown. Her mild manners and predictability would make life with her undemanding and pleasant.

  The change from life with Skythia would be welcome.

  “I’ll increase security on the Torvals.” Artur removed a recording globe from another pocket and muttered into it.

  Skythia held up a finger. “Don’t get caught. They can’t know. Otherwise you’ll have to guard all the candidates and say it’s for assessments.”

  “I agree,” Embor said. Increased security would make his secret outings more risky. The simulacrum he used to fool his staff when he vacated the Realm only worked if they didn’t try too hard to find him.

  “I’ll examine the princess for signs of spirit magic,” Gangee said, “and any other residue.”

  “I want her taught defensive magic.” Embor didn’t think she’d need it after they banished the Torvals, but he wanted her safe. “Perhaps a sleep spell?”

  “I’ll instruct her myself,” Gangee said.

  “I informed her we’d visit you in the morning. I’ll bring her at second bell.”

  “Informed her, did you?” Skythia gave an exasperated snort. “Nah, there’s no way you pissed her off. You’re super smooth, my brother. She’s going to be one happy little wifey. Gosh, I wish I had a big, strong bondmate to tell me when I needed a healer appointment.” She whapped Embor on the back. Her hand lingered with brief affection. It was her way.
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  “That isn’t a problem. I’ll let you know when you need appointments,” he told her with a straight face. “I’m strong enough for two women.”

  “I’ll take your advice as well as you take mine. We done here?” she asked. “I’ve still got to research all the Akabar clan prime candidates. It’s crazy how many twin sets have been born there in the past three hundred years.”

  “Actually, we aren’t done.” Embor straightened his shoulders. This group of individuals knew more about his troubles than anyone in the Realm. “I want to address the rumors of my instability. The assessments are nigh, and we have to be prepared.”

  “Rumors won’t affect the assessments,” Gangee said. “If you aren’t having nightmares, it won’t tarnish the exams.”

  “Even with a clean assessment, rumors can affect public opinion leading up to the election,” Embor said. With the Torvals’ popularity, a convincing black mark against Embor or Skythia could be disastrous.

  “I’d know if you were unstable.” Skythia clapped his back again. “That first month after the kidnapping, your bogeymen kept me from getting any beauty sleep. You haven’t woken me with one in years.”

  “Your beauty sleep, without a doubt, was my first concern,” he said mildly.

  His proactivity with regards to hunting the Torval agents had been the exact therapy needed to erase the nightmares completely. Either he needed to capture the damned agents once and for all—or the changed content of the nightmares required another approach. He’d hidden it so far, but soon he wouldn’t be able to. His exhaustion would come out.

  He was almost to the point where he needed help.

  There wasn’t much he hated more than asking for help. The Torvals. Frivolous conversation. Gnomes. Large bodies of water. Lying. The Incident. The thought of Anisette making love to anyone but him. Turnips. Possibly human country music. Not much else.

  “I haven’t been sleeping as much as I should,” he said, which was true. “You know my schedule, but you don’t know I’ve been experimenting with shield magic in my personal time.” His omission of other experiments didn’t count as a lie.