"A Sirenali that can speak," Bel Erland shook his head. "A very dangerous thing."
"Not all Sirenali are thieves and murderers," I pointed out. Bel nodded reluctantly.
"Many were corrupted by rogue gods," Zaria agreed with me. "Now, many are mute slaves. Both those things are wrong and a terrible injustice to the race itself."
Terrett stopped in his tracks and kissed me, then took Zaria's hand and kissed it, nodding his thanks.
You shine brightly together, Zaria sent to Terrett and me.
Will you help us capture these that threaten us? Terrett asked.
That's why I'm here, Zaria replied. Come on, let's hear what Ambassador Edden has to say.
* * *
"It's likely that employees at the bank were obsessed," Caylon agreed. Our meeting had spilled into the dining area, after it became too large for my suite. We now had an image on a comp-vid of the Sirenali Zaria had seen on Tulgalan. With information on the bank involved, it appeared that some of us needed to go to Tulgalan to interview employees.
We needed Kooper Griff's help to achieve that. Kaldill offered to transport those necessary for the questioning to Tulgalan, where we'd meet with Director Griff at the bank.
But that would wait for the morning—or at least after we'd slept. Zaria and Ilya had taken up their position at the entrance to the dining hall, as if there weren't a heavy shield placed by Kaldill about the ship already.
We were headed for the shipping lanes shared by the Reth and Campiaan Alliances where the missing ships had been taken. For now, it was the only lead we had as to the location of Cayetes' ships; every one of them had at least one Sirenali slave aboard, who kept the ship hidden from the powerful.
"Here's my thought," Zaria spoke up. "We can't find those ships by scrying or employing other, powerful methods, but they show up on mundane scans, like any other. Someone should probably track those things on the ship's systems, searching for the one or ones that show up there but not when they scry or Look for them."
"You mean they'll show up on the screen, but be a blank spot when we Look?" Salidar asked.
"Their blip will resonate when they pass through the lanes, like a werewolf who can scent those fuckers when they walk across your lawn," Zaria shrugged. "They can't hide their scent unless someone with power erases it for them. They probably don't bother in most cases."
"That makes sense," Caylon nodded. "It's reasonable to assume that they wouldn't have a wizard or warlock aboard every ship to hide them from other ships that look exactly the same. That would be too expensive."
"Why are they emptying bank accounts?" Berel asked. "I thought Cayetes had more money than he knew what to do with."
"They have to buy a planet full of warlocks and witches, or at least buy enough to fight for them and claim the throne," Zaria stated bluntly. "You have no idea how much that's going to take. Plus, if they buy what they can and obsess the rest," she shrugged.
"Warlocks can't be obsessed," Ilya began.
"Yes, they can," Zaria disagreed. "Frankly, that's something I never want to see again."
I'd remained silent through most of the meeting, but it was time for me to speak. "Unless you are a god or a Larentii, or belong to one of a few special races, you can be obsessed," I said. "Zaria is correct. A witch or warlock is susceptible."
"May the gods be merciful," Edden breathed. "I never knew we were in such trouble."
"Not all of them are ready to obsess anyone they see," I said. "The few who are will be most dangerous, however."
"I'll speak with Griff," Caylon said. "It's late and past time for sleep. We'll deal with Tulgalan and obsessions tomorrow, while the ship finds its way to the proper shipping lanes."
* * *
Kaldill waited for me by the door; I could tell by his smile that it was time.
Time for us to be together in bed. I admit, I felt nervous.
There is nothing to fear, dearest, he reassured me and took my hand.
That night, I learned what it was like to make love with an elf. I'm sure it was enhanced, too, because Kaldill was King of the Elves. There is a rush that infuses your blood; a heady, all-consuming desire to have more of the elf who is loving you.
It went on through the night; I'm sure I'd have been exhausted, except Daragar arrived and bent time so I might sleep.
Caylon took no pity on me during my lessons after I woke; I hadn't expected him to. The one I did pity, however, was Zaria.
Somehow, Caylon, Ilya and Sal had arrived at the decision to train her in hand-to-hand fighting, which she plainly didn't want. Sal did the training; Caylon glanced their way from time to time and Ilya made himself scarce after Zaria glared in his direction.
I wanted to laugh—the whole thing had been his idea and she knew it without anyone telling her.
He needed to become used to that—that she could see those things in him whenever she wanted.
I heard a loud thump; Caylon and I both turned to look.
Zaria lay on her back, gasping for breath. She'd been forbidden to use any power during her training and had to rely on her physical ability only. Sal had shown her how to drop someone by sweeping their feet and applying a swift punch to the face or shoulder.
He'd caught her on the chin when she'd flailed in an unsuccessful attempt to keep her balance. He hadn't intended to hit her; her flailing had thrown his fist into her face. In some ways, she was just as responsible for the contact as Sal was.
"That'll leave a bruise," Caylon muttered before attending to our lesson.
* * *
"I'll live with it," Zaria waved off my offer to heal the darkening bruise after training. She stalked past Ilya, who stood guard outside the door. I saw him wince as she passed; he'd seen the mess Sal made of her face.
* * *
Kooper Griff met us outside the bank in Targis, Tulgalan's capital city, as promised. Lendill Schaff, his co-Director and Kaldill's son, was with him.
"Who's watching Gaelar N'Seith?" I asked Kaldill.
"He's only here for this interview," Kaldill shrugged. "He'll go back afterward."
We walked into the bank behind Kooper and Lendill—Kaldill, Bel, Ilya, Zaria and I. I imagined that Zaria and I would glean more information by looking at employees than Kooper or Lendill would ever receive during questioning.
After all, those funds should have been safeguarded. Somehow, an employee had released them and they'd been siphoned away. Kooper explained that the funds had bounced from one banking institution to another after they were siphoned from this one, before disappearing altogether.
There was no word on where or how that had happened. It could involve more obsession at another bank, but that information could wait. We had employees to see here.
The bank president smiled nervously when Kooper identified himself. He turned, then, to lead us toward a meeting room, where employees would be summoned and questioned.
No need, I sent to Kooper. He's the one.
* * *
"He's fogged, just like the others I've seen," Zaria confirmed my discovery. "He probably doesn't even remember that he did it."
The bank president sat alone in the meeting room. He was terrified—as anyone in his situation would be.
That's how I'd known—by what Zaria called the fog on his brain. A blank spot of sorts enveloped his mind, indicating he'd been obsessed. Nobody would question him if he accessed certain files. His password overrode all others, including security.
"We have to arrest him," Kooper grimly shook his head.
"You'll never get the needed information," Zaria responded. "I suggest you place him somewhere so he can receive therapy. I think he's going to need it. This is something he'd never do, had he been in control of his faculties."
"I get that," Kooper agreed. "But I still have to arrest him."
"Somewhere, another employee at a different bank is likely in the same situation," I said. "Funds have disappeared and he has no recollection that he—or she—fac
ilitated it."
"It'll take a while to attempt to track it," Lendill observed. "I can do that much from Gaelar N'Seith."
"Then you get on that; I'll see what I can do from another standpoint," Kooper said. "Thank you for your help," he nodded to Zaria and me. "It would have taken us many hours to get this the usual way."
"We're still no farther along than we were," Zaria admitted as we walked out of the building. "All we have is a terrified man with a family he can no longer support."
"I think temporary support can be arranged," Kaldill said. "We still have funds from Cayetes' shipments that we seized."
"Will you do that for us?" I asked.
"Dearest, I would do anything for you," Kaldill smiled at me.
* * *
BlackWing VII
Ilya
Zaria released the spell she'd held about herself while we'd been away from the ship; I watched her sigh as the purpling bruise reappeared on her chin. She should have let Quin heal it; it had to be painful.
"It's a reminder," she brushed past me.
"Of what?" I asked.
"Of how people see me as useless unless I can punch somebody in the face." She didn't turn around to look at me; she merely kept walking. I wanted to curse. At her and myself.
Somewhere, in her past, someone had bullied her. I found myself hoping that she'd fried them with her power.
"I'll talk to her," Salidar passed me in the hallway. "Sometimes a punch is better than a spell," he added. "I just have to make her see that."
Yes, I admit that I felt the smallest twinge of jealousy as he began to walk faster to catch up with Zaria.
* * *
Zaria
I wanted to be alone. Salidar came barging through my door anyway. "We need to talk," he said.
"About what?"
"About that bruise on your chin."
"Look, I was just as responsible as you. That ought to be the end of it."
He shut the door to my berth and placed a shield about the room. I turned my back on him. "It's soundproof, so I can speak frankly. Bree didn't know that jolting the coffin when it landed in Avii Castle would wake you for an early release and frankly, we can't put the genie back in the bottle at this point. I know who you are and right now, only three people are aware of that. Two, as you may have guessed, are in the Mighty category. I didn't mean to get anywhere near your chin with my fist. You have to work with me on this, all right? Bree says you'll have to make friends with those you knew in the past all over again—it can't be helped."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better? Or less lonely?" I turned to look at him, then. Dark eyes studied me for a moment before he answered.
"No. And I'm sorry about that. We need you—that's the simple truth of things."
"How much did she tell you?" I turned away again.
"Most of it. Some, I already knew because it's a legend with the Larentii, now. That their Vhanaraszh turned rebel to save billions of lives."
"Yet they'd separate my particles in a second if they found me again." My hand shook as I wiped tears away.
"No. Look, your sentence has been wiped from the Council records and the Larentii Archives. None of them would raise a hand against you, now."
"I don't belong anywhere," I quavered.
"I didn't mean to make you cry, either," he said. "I wish there was something I could do about it."
"Except I mean nothing to you and you mean nothing to me."
"Sort of. I was hoping we'd be friends—when I'm not swinging at you."
"I'll consider it. At least it's you swinging at me instead of Ilya. Before—he was the one who attempted to teach me Krav Maga. I think I'd just lie there and cry if he tried it, now."
"You still have PTSD," he stated flatly.
"I don't think it'll ever go away as long as I'm alive. Honestly, I thought I'd taken care of that problem around four hundred Earth years ago."
"We need you, remember?" He repeated softly. "I can probably get Kevis Halivar here if you need to talk to somebody."
"I've talked to someone in the past," I said. "It didn't help much."
"I know you can't just go out there and tell everybody what you've been through—it will mess things up. You have to keep your chin up and hope for the best."
"The same chin that has a big bruise on it?"
"Want me to kiss it and make it better? Or, do you want me to ask Ilya to kiss it instead?"
He wore a crooked grin when I turned to face him again. "How about you run out that door while I throw pillows at you?"
"That'll work," his grin became wider.
Before dinner that night, the entire ship was gossiping about how I'd tossed Salidar de Luca out of my berth and then thrown pillows at his head.
Chapter 4
Quin
I wasn't sure what Sal had talked about with Zaria, but she tried harder the following morning during training. He didn't hit her again, she was more in control of her limbs and they ended on a truce, bowing to one another while Zaria reluctantly thanked him for the lesson.
I didn't realize how tense I'd become over the situation until it drained out of me afterward. Jayna, who was training with Caylon while I watched Sal and Zaria, bowed to him and thanked him for her lesson, too.
"Anything else?" Caylon lifted an eyebrow in my direction.
"No, sursee," I said.
"Good. Breakfast is waiting."
* * *
When I arrived in the dining area, I found Kaldill, Bel Erland, Berel, Yanzi, Lafe and Terrett waiting for me.
"Why didn't you get your plates already?" I asked.
"We want eat with you," Yanzi declared. "You poke along."
"I want to eat with you, too," Barc declared, hugging me with all four arms. Bleek, standing behind Barc, gave a lopsided grin.
"Then let's eat together," I said and held one of Barc's hands as we walked toward the serving line. Somehow, Zaria had cleaned up and gotten to the galley before I did; she stood behind the line, helping the cooks serve breakfast.
"I suppose that makes sense; she did apply as a cook's assistant at Dad's palace," Bel Erland muttered.
"Hey, Barc," Zaria offered him a smile as he went ahead of us. "Want bacon? Ham? Turkey fritters?"
"What's a turkey fritter?" He laughed at the sound of it.
"No idea and we don't have any anyway," she grinned back.
"I want bacon," he declared. She gave him what he asked for, then offered to float his plate to an empty table large enough to hold all of us. Barc laughed when his tray took off on its own, floating gently through the small dining room until it landed on the table. Not even a drop of milk was spilled.
"Thank you," Barc clapped his hands at the simple trick.
"I'll never be able to serve his breakfast again," Bleek pretended to frown at Zaria.
"You want me to float yours, too?" she asked.
"Want to arm wrestle?" Bleek laughed.
"I guess that's a no," Zaria grinned at Bleek's overabundance of arms and piled food on his plate.
"Is it scary that she knew what I wanted?" Berel asked when he took his seat at our table.
"I doubt she means any harm—she probably wants you to be happy at breakfast. I believe she turns it off otherwise around those she knows—the legends abound of how the Q'elindis in the past wearied of what they constantly saw in others. They wore a veil most of the time, to obscure any images that might come." Bel grinned. "Come on, eat and stop worrying about it."
"I wasn't really worried about it," Berel pointed a fork at Bel Erland. "I've just never had that kind of service, before. Can you imagine if every waitress knew what you wanted when they came to your table?"
"Sounds like a time-saver," Bleek grabbed a basket of bread in one hand while helping himself to the butter and sipping tea at the same time.
"I don't think Zaria should hire herself out as a waitress," Lafe observed. "Kings, Queens and rulers in both Alliances would pay almost anything for her
services."
"She's working with us," Bel pointed out. "Don't give her any ideas. We need her."
"I don't think she intends to go anywhere," Kaldill said. "This is her mission, I believe."
* * *
Ilya
I waited until everyone else was served and Zaria took her plate of food to a now-empty table. She barely looked up when I set my plate on the table across from hers and sat down to eat.
"I hear you had an argument with Sal," I began.
"I threw pillows at him." She dipped into her bowl of oatmeal.
"Heard that, too. I doubt he received any bruising."
"Hmmph." Her bruise had lightened some, making it appear deep brown instead of purple, with yellowing around the edges.
"I can get cream for it, if you won't accept the healing," I said.
"I'm fine. Really."
"Then eat your food instead of pushing it around. How do you expect to throw a proper punch if you don't take care of yourself?"
"Is that all you're concerned about?"
I'd upset her, when that wasn't my intention.
"No. Fuck, no." I lifted my plate and turned to walk away.
"Please, sit."
For a moment, I caught the bitter loneliness in her voice. It squeezed my heart in a way I didn't expect. Setting my plate gently on the table, I pulled the chair back as silently as I could and sat.
"I cannot guess at the troubles of your life," I began. "I wish I could take the sadness from your face. You will have to make that decision, someday, I think. Whether you choose to allow it or not."
"What nickname would you use?" She lifted her eyes to me and I saw they glittered with unshed tears. "For me?" she added.
"It would have to be special, as you are special," I replied. "Something out of the ordinary, that only I might use for you. I will think on this."
"All right."
"Eat," I gestured with my fork. "I will reheat it if necessary, with power."
"It's fine." She scooped a spoonful of oatmeal and lifted it to her lips. I hoped she'd made it sweet—to feed her energy.
SpellBreaker: First Ordinance, Book 4 Page 5
