by Jack Conner
Avery studied him, then the letter. Quickly he read it. Meet me in Conference Room 3, fourth floor. S
She means now, Avery realized.
He steered the messenger back to the door. “I’m very, very sorry about this,” he said. “I assure you, I will make certain your family is delivered from harm immediately.”
“Sh-she won’t hurt them, will she?”
“Of course not. She was bluffing. It was just a means to get me this letter.” But he wondered. “Now don’t say a word of this to anyone. Ever.”
“No, sir. Never.”
By the fear in his eyes, Avery believed him. He showed the man out, then closed the door and, very quietly, began to dress. In the bedroom, Layanna murmured something. He tensed, then heard her snore. Trembling, he finished dressing and set out into the halls. Two of the guards went with him; the others stayed to guard Layanna, not that she needed it. Then again, he remembered his missing god-killing knife. If Sheridan could have hidden it aboard the Muirblaag ...
“Take me to Conference Room 3, fourth floor,” he said to the guards.
As he stalked down corridors stinking of incense, smelling it in his clothes and hair, he thought, What can she be up to? She should be far away from here. Does she want to get caught? What if she smells Layanna on me? Does she know already? Damn! I must keep it a secret if she doesn’t. The fewer matches I throw near this powder keg the better.
The guards showed him to a certain room, then inspected it for him before he went inside, stabbing their lances into the corners of the ceiling and niches. He waited nervously, praying they didn’t find Sheridan and kill her. Surely she would have prepared for this. When they were done, they withdrew, and he assured them that he had private business to tend to, reading to do, and that they could wait for him outside. Though mystified, they obeyed.
Trying not to fidget, he waited, not bothering to turn on the lights. Rain lashed the windows, and darkness draped all. It was more a lounge than a real conference room, he saw as his eyes adjusted, or at least a very informal conference room, the kind enjoyed by high-ranking peers hashing things out. There was a couch, a snooker table, a bar, an oak table with a box of fine cigars laid out in the middle. Avery wondered if these were the sorts of surrounds he should start getting used to. I’m king now. It was still a heady thought. Enjoy it while you can, Francis. It won’t last long. I won’t LET it.
Tap, tap.
The sound issued from the window.
He sprang to it and opened it, admitting a drizzle of poisonous rain—and Sheridan, covered from head to foot in a dark, sleek wax-coated outfit, hood drawn low over her face. She swept it back, closed the window, and flung her arms about him. Before he could even really prepare himself, she was kissing him, and he was kissing back, not worried about the rain. Her hands roved over him, and he was shocked by her need. For a moment, he thought she would maneuver him onto a couch and ravish him right then and there, and he could only hope he was up to the task; Layanna had quite worn him out. Just the same, he hoped she would; the very thought that she wanted him that badly made something burn in him.
Sheridan broke off, face flushed and breathing hard.
“I needed that,” she said.
“I ...” He cleared his throat. “I did, too.” Trying to cover his unease, he closed the window, sealing the poisonous rain out, then wiped the few burning droplets he’d received on the drapes. Not very kingly, Francis.
She embraced him again, but briefly, and gazed (slightly) up into his face. She looked thinner than she had, and under a great deal of strain. Still, she seemed beautiful to him, vulnerable and determined. Her eyes blazed with life and vitality and purpose. They were troubled, though. A shadow hung inside each one.
“What is it?” he said. “What’s going on?”
“I had to see you.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes.” She watched his reaction carefully.
He pulled away from her, his hands leaving hers slowly. Anger began to rise in him. “I can’t believe you, Jess. You kidnapped that man’s family!”
“It was the only way to reach you. Don’t worry, they won’t be harmed. They’re simply tied up in their living room. I won’t return there, but as soon as he does he’ll free them and that will be an end to it.”
“You don’t do that,” he said. “You don’t kidnap people, Jess.”
“You don’t.”
“But ...” He groaned. “Jess, I can’t ... we can’t ...” He fumbled, not sure exactly what he wanted to say. “Jess, kidnapping innocent people simply to see your loved one, while certainly a grand gesture, is not what normal human beings consider romantic. It’s insane. Criminal. Wrong.”
Her eyes flickered. “That’s not what you’re really mad about. You’re mad about King Idris and his family.”
“Well, of course I am! Jess, my gods. I know your intentions were good, but ... mass murder?”
She moved to the bar and poured herself a thick finger of whiskey. After a moment of deliberation, he joined her. His was even thicker, but he didn’t chastise himself for it. If any occasion called for alcohol, this was it. He winced as it burned his throat, then sighed when the healing warmth reached his stomach. For a long moment, they just stood there together in the darkened room, drinking beside each other, their shoulders just touching, while rain drummed endlessly against the window.
Quietly, she said, “It was the only way.”
“There had to be another way.”
“Name it.”
He said nothing.
“That’s what horrifies you, isn’t it? You see I’m right. If I hadn’t ordered that bomb planted, your daughter wouldn’t have the chance to wake the Sleeper. Your whole plan would be forfeit. The human race would be forfeit. So ... yes, I did what needed to be done. I know you see that. You may hate yourself for it, but you see it. That’s what you’re mad at.” Her fingers tightened around her glass, and by the way her jaw bunched Avery feared she would hurl it at the wall, but then she relaxed. “I did it,” she said. “The weight of it’s on me, not you. You’re absolved of any wrongdoing, Doctor.”
He downed another sip. This time he barely felt the sting. “So what now? Surely you didn’t risk so much just to visit me?”
“Would it be so wrong if it were?”
“I ...”
She killed the drink. “Save it. As it happens, I have news. Sources in the underground are saying Segrul’s pirates—and they are his; I found out that much—the ones occupying Maryss—they’re trading for supplies with the black market. Supplies ... and information. Weak points, troop schedules. They’re going to strike soon. Word is that they have inside help.”
“You mean from within the government?” When she nodded, he said, “Duke Leshillibn. It must be. He admitted to dealing with the mystery party. He must be collaborating with the pirates.”
“There’s more.”
“I dread to hear it.”
“Remember the Borghesan ngvandi?”
“How could I forget?” The last time he had seen the savage fish-people of the Borghese Mountains they’d been trying to feed him to Uthua, one of their three resident gods, together known as the Mnuthra.
“They’ve been stirring,” she said. “Ysstrals have reported them coming down from the mountains. They’ve raided villages and killed many. When the military goes after them, they vanish like smoke into the crags.”
“Just what we need.”
“It gets better. Some of them have been seen riding giant flying fish.”
“Flying fish?”
She nodded. “One of the tribes along the coast appears to be breeding them in the sea, perhaps working with some other party and directed by the remaining Mnuthra. Still, it’s hard to imagine them riding the things. But that seems to be the case. The ngvandi have aerial squadrons now.”
He ran a hand over his face. “What’s it all for? Raids, now fish-riders ...”
“It can only mean they
’re preparing for war.”
Avery scratched his cheek. “Uthua must have put them up to this.”
“That seems a reasonable assumption. He can hardly mobilize Octung, besieged as it is, and the pirates have turned against his people. The ngvandi are the most likely fighting force he’s got left.”
“Is that everything?”
“That’s all the news I have.”
Suddenly, Avery laid a hand on her shoulder. She tensed, and he thought she would draw away, but she allowed it, and he squeezed her tenderly. “I’m so sorry, Jess.”
“For what?”
“You—this.” He gestured at the dark room. “You gave up everything to further a cause that wasn’t even yours.”
“It is now.”
“I see that. I’m sorry I ever doubted you.”
“What about the others?”
“They’re not so understanding. Perhaps when I return to Ghenisa I can issue a pardon, say that you weren’t the one who did it, pin it all on Haggarty—I have no trouble seeing him punished—but until then I don’t know what to do. They’re hunting you desperately. You have to be careful. It was madness to come here.”
She set her glass down. With the hand that had been holding it, she reached out and touched him.
“I had to.” Her words were like a breath.
She stared up into his face, and he into hers. In that moment he had a decision to make.
It wasn’t difficult. He kissed her, and her lips opened for him. Her tongue darted against his, and his pressed against hers. Her fingers flew to his buttons, and he helped, tugging off his tunic, then helping with hers.
Her hand cupped his balls, then stroked his member, and he stiffened instantly, never mind his earlier uncertainty. She took him in her mouth and made him harder, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from crying out. The guards were just outside, and the door was thick, but it was not that thick.
She pulled a condom over him, stood, shoved him against the wall and leapt astride him, wrapping her legs about his middle. He grabbed her hips and shoved her down onto himself, impaling her. She gasped, and he stifled it with a kiss, tasting himself on her tongue. He thrust into her, then again, his face buried in her bosom, then swung her around so that she was the one pinned against the wall. He slammed into her, again and again, then slower when he heard the noise. She rocked her hips against his, grinding.
“Oh, Jess.”
“Doctor.”
Afterward, they sagged to the floor beside each other. Rain beat against the windows, steady and hypnotic, and he felt his eyes begin to close. It felt so good, so right, lying here with her like this. Drowsiness began to overcome him. Don’t, he thought. Don’t go to sleep. Layanna will grow suspicious if I’m away too long. Also, he knew that if he slept Sheridan would be gone when he awoke.
He must have dozed off at some point despite his best efforts, however, as suddenly his eyes snapped open to find that she was no longer there. He felt all around, then moved to the window. It was closed, and save for a tiny bit of moisture on the corner there was no trace it had ever been opened.
He stared out at the nighttime panorama of the city. She would be out there somewhere, prowling the rooftops and alleys. She might even be turning at that very moment to stare at the window she had so recently left by. Staring at him.
Feeling foolish, he blew a kiss at the night, then closed the drapes and found his clothes. It was time to return to Layanna. At the thought, he felt a chill.
Chapter 4
“I’ll take some questions now,” Avery said, and winced at all the flashing light bulbs. It was the morning after meeting Sheridan, and he was enduring a press conference at the Ghenisan Embassy. He had just given a presentation to the Ghenisan media, introducing himself to the people of his country and officially assuming charge of it, or at least the portion the royal family controlled: an abbreviated coronation ceremony. A longer one would take place once he returned to Hissig. He pointed to a reporter raising her hand. “A question?”
She ruffled though her notes. “You were married for years to a duchess and you never suspected?”
Mari, be well. Old memories welled in him. “I knew,” he said. “Next question?”
“In your statement, you said you were raised in Hissig,” the next reporter said. “Does that make you a child of the revolutionary period?”
“I grew up shortly after the war, yes. If you mean to ask if I am, or was, anti-royalist, I think it would be impolitic to say.”
That actually drew a few smiles out of the grim-faced reporters, who had flown all the way from Ghenisa, over the storm-tossed Borghese Mountains, possibly over ngvandi mobilizing for war, to sit at this briefing. All Ghenisa was abuzz, Avery knew, and nearly every family would be gathered around their television, if they had one, or radio if they didn’t.
“Next question,” he said.
“It says here you were involved romantically with the so-called goddess Layanna, sole deity of the church known as the Pool of the Deep One. Is that true?”
“No comment,” Avery said.
“What do you think of her movement? Do you support the Pool of the Deep One or are you one of its many detractors?”
Layanna, are you watching? He knew she was. “No comment.”
“In your statement, you said you had ordered the Ghenisan Navy to join the Ysstral Navy in repelling the hostile force that has occupied an island off the coast of Salanth. Is now really the time to draw forces away from Ghenisa?”
“No threat is raised against Ghenisa,” Avery said. Speaking very clearly, he went on: “But there is a very obvious and current threat to the people of the Ysstral Empire. Our relationship with the Empire has been strained for many years, but now, with this marriage, our ties will be renewed. The Ysstral Empire will become Ghenisa’s most powerful ally. We cannot allow them to be invaded. I only pray our forces can join theirs in time to repel the enemy.”
“About the wedding,” another reporter said. “Some are saying this is purely a shrewd political move on your part to capitalize on your new status. Others say you’re a naïve newcomer to the world of international affairs and that the Empress-Regent is manipulating you in a long-range plan to incorporate Ghenisa into the Empire.”
The press erupted, and Avery waved his hands to calm them, although he felt beads of sweat soak his armpits. “The marriage is necessary,” he said. “Both for the stability of Ghenisa and the Ysstral Empire. Separate, we’re far weaker than we will be united. Ghenisa especially will benefit from this alliance. Rest assured, I’m not handing the country over to the Ysstrals.”
“But aren’t you in fact an Ysstral now?”
“No.” He took a breath. The next part was very important to him, and he had spent some time hashing it out with others. “Anissa will remain Queen of Ghenisa, and though she will be Empress of the Ysstral Empire she will not rule unless Lord Jered were to pass without issue, and in that event a new monarch would shortly be elected from among the royal family. Anissa will never be the primary ruler of the Ysstral Empire, and Jered will never be the ruler of Ghenisa. They rule their respective countries separately, and the governments of both countries will remain independent from each other.”
“What about their children?”
I’m not a grandfather yet! “If they remain married when they come of age and bear children, a male child shall be heir to Ghenisa and a female heir to the Ysstral throne. If the first two children are of the same sex, a flip of the coin will decide it. If there is only one child, that child shall be heir to the Ghenisan throne, as it’s the royal family of our country that has suffered such a devastating blow. A new heir can always be elected from among the Ysstral aristocracy.”
“Has there been any development on apprehending the parties behind the bombing?”
“Not to my knowledge. Next question.” He pointed to a reporter.
“Sources indicate that Grand Admiral Haggarty might have been beh
ind the group assassination. Are you worried about being targeted next?”
“I have full confidence in the police and various bureaus to apprehend him.”
A hand went up. “Sir, television footage from the aborted ceremony led by the Grand Admiral and the late Lord Rigurd last month, the eve of the Starfish attack, shows a man coming out of the crowd and stabbing Rigurd before Lady Layanna could eat him. Analysts say you bear a striking resemblance to that man. Do you care to comment?”
A loud murmur rose at this, but Avery merely smiled and said, “No. Next question.”
The press conference continued until Avery’s political advisor, who had previously worked for Lord Idris, motioned to him, and Avery ended it. Afterwards, walking away, Avery said, “What did you think?”
“I think it went as smoothly as it could. You handled it very well.”
Avery raised his eyebrows at Admiral Vellis, who was now his liaison to the Ghenisan Navy and would accompany him to the Palace until the military operation was over. The admiral in turn was followed by two aides.
“What did you think, Admiral?”
Vellis shook his head. “I’m more concerned with what our boys will find on that island.”
The attack was to commence on the next day, after the Ghenisan forces had rendezvoused with the Ysstral Navy.
“So am I,” Avery said. “So am I.”
Together with the admiral and his people, along with his political advisor and his aide, Avery bundled into his limousine and returned to the Palace. There he found quarters for his new retinue, then moved off to locate Ani. She was to be married in a few hours, after all. He found her in the bathroom of her royal suite surrounded by handmaidens primping her for the wedding. They curled her hair, arranged her dress and even put a smattering of makeup on her face.
“I think you’re overdoing it,” Avery told them.
The lead makeup artist smiled. “Tsh. She will be beautiful. Even moreso. And with all these scars ...”
“There will be cameras, Papa,” Ani said. “Lots of them, at least afterward, when Jered and I are presented to the people.”
