Solace

by Bethany Adams

  From the uneasy glances Fenere kept casting Lial’s way, Lyr’s idea had apparently been a good one.

  “Belore Koranel,” Lyr said. “I would like to hear the status of these two warriors.”

  The captain inclined his head. “Leral began apprenticing with the Elite not long after Ayala Arlyn was injured, and Fenere returned to normal duties. Last month, he asked to transfer to helping with the trainees, and I granted the request.”

  “You did not think to mention these events to me considering their pasts?”

  “I’m afraid I did not, Myern,” the Belore answered. “Their punishments were complete, so I gave it no more thought.”

  That was unlikely to go over well, although there was no sign of emotion on Lyr’s face as he studied the captain. Perhaps it was because Koranel had worked with Norin, the man responsible for Lynia’s brush with death, but something about the captain’s demeanor bothered Lial. He had the uneasy stance of a patient denying his worst symptoms. Was he simply nervous during formal inquiries, or was there something more?

  “You are aware that a mage working under our protection was gravely injured yesterday?” Lyr asked, pausing long enough for Belore Koranel to nod. “There should have been more sonal stationed in that area. Furthermore, Kezari tracked the attacker’s scent back to the trainee’s barracks, and I have evidence leading me to believe Fenere is the one responsible. Leral’s involvement is yet to be determined.”

  Both of the accused went sickly pale, but their reactions were otherwise subtly different. Eyes wide, Leral took a step back, almost colliding with the guard behind him. Sweat beaded his forehead as he focused his bleak gaze on Lyr. Fenere, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to focus on anyone or anything, his gaze flitting around the room at the same restless pace as his shuffling feet.

  “Leral,” Lyr said, the sharp word making the other man flinch. “I have no evidence to suggest you were involved, but I have grave concerns about anyone connected to the disgraced Korel and now Fenere. What words do you have to share in your defense?”

  Leral struggled to drop to his knees despite his bound hands. “I beg you to believe I have no knowledge of this, Myern. I was not friends with Korel or Fenere, merely assigned to guard Ayala Arlyn with them several months ago. Having failed that job, I have trained hard to do better in the future. If Fenere has chosen to pursue a dishonorable path, I want nothing to do with it. We haven’t even spoken since that mission.”

  The man’s voice wavered, and his breath came fast. But Lial believed him. This didn’t look like fear borne of guilt—this was the fear of losing everything. Attempted murder would earn a harsh punishment, not the least of which would be a ban from military service. In truth, a calm reaction would have been more suspicious.

  Unfortunately for Leral, Lyr didn’t appear inclined to render a quick judgement. “Thank you. I will consider your statement.”

  Leral inclined his head, helplessness suffusing his expression before he dropped his eyes. Poor man. Surely, Lyr was better at reading physical signs than that. But perhaps that was a healer’s strength, at least outside of battle. Learning to identify a patient’s physiological cues through observation sped up many a healing session.

  As such, Lial knew Fenere’s words would be a lie before his mouth had even opened. He shifted around with all of the guilt of a child who didn’t want to admit their stomachache was caused by excess honey cakes. When Lyr demanded his explanation, he proceeded with as much bravado as deference.

  “I was standing guard over the barracks when you confronted me out of nowhere,” Fenere said, his tone somehow a mixture of placating and accusatory. “I can’t imagine what evidence you might have against me.”

  For the first time, Meli spoke, only a hint of a tremor to her voice. “My magic revealed it to be so.”

  Her runes weren’t precisely a secret, but they weren’t well-known, either. Despite her position as Myerna and her formal introduction some time back, Meli was quiet enough that she was a mystery to many. A benefit, in this case. Fenere sucked in a sharp breath, and his skin went so ashen Lial worried that he might need treatment.

  “I wasn’t supposed to kill anyone,” Fenere said in a rush. “It was a warning. Korel told me to be subtle, but the foolish mage pulled the ridge down around us. I barely made it out of the way in time to avoid injury.”

  “Korel,” Lyr said, his voice cracking across the space like lightning. “Who was supposed to be sent home after he was dismissed from his position.”

  Fenere nodded. “It was his plan. Naturally, he is most at fault.”

  “How long have you been plotting with him?” Lyr demanded.

  Lial didn’t have to look at Lyr to know how furious he was—so he didn’t. Instead, Lial focused on Belore Koranel. The man stood straight, his gaze directed toward Lyr and Meli on the dais, but his breathing had sped up. Not a great deal, a slight enough change that even Lial might not have noted it if he hadn’t been carefully observing him. But possibly telling.

  “I wouldn’t say I’ve been plotting, Myern,” Fenere answered. “I don’t want to see you overthrown like Korel does. It’s just… I do agree with him that there have been too many changes. I can accept that the Ayala has human blood, but her arrival opened the portal to everyone, so to speak. A Galaren, a dragon, and now a bunch of half-humans here to work with the healer. How can we feel safe around a bloodsucking half-Felshreh? Even the new Myerna is from the Ljósálfar.”

  “I recommend that you be careful with your words,” Lyr said coldly.

  Instead of gauging Fenere’s reaction, Lial continued to study Koranel. The Belore’s lips twitched, and his eyes glinted with a hint of satisfaction. That wasn’t the look of a superior officer whose subordinate was casually discussing the merits of treason.

  “Lyr,” Lial sent. “Belore Koranel may be involved. I have no proof, but his body language is suspicious.”

  “As is his lack of knowledge of these events. Thank you for the warning.”

  “And you, Belore Koranel,” Lyr said aloud. “Do you have more in common with Korel than a similarity of name? It appears you were also unaware that Korel remained in the area instead of returning home as ordered. I understand that you inherited this role from Norin some six months back, but I expected better vigilance.”

  The captain’s expression had returned to being impassive, but he inclined his head quickly. “Forgive me, Myern. I will see that Korel is found.”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  Belore Koranel kept his gaze averted. “I have served this House well for several centuries, Myern. I am surprised that my loyalty is in question.”

  A sick tendril of suspicion twined up Lial’s throat. Koranel knew about Norin’s treachery all along. He might or might not have joined in on the plot, but he hadn’t stopped it. And if that were true, Koranel could have prevented Norin from attacking Lynia. The memory of Lynia’s broken body crumpled on the library floor flashed through Lial’s mind until his hands clenched.

  “Norin chose you as his successor long before I took over for my father,” Lyr said, his voice deceptively soft. Lial knew him well enough to catch the hard anger beneath. “I saw no reason to punish you for Norin’s betrayal since there was no evidence of your involvement, and so I allowed you to become captain as intended.”

  The Belore nodded. “My family was grateful, milord.”

  But not him—an omission that was difficult to miss. Lial’s certainty of the man’s guilt grew until it threatened to choke him.

  “Are you prepared to swear a blood oath to remain the Belore of my army?” Lyr asked.

  The captain’s throat worked. “I am uncertain I wish to do so, Myern.”

  “As I thought.” Lyr turned toward the warriors surrounding Leral. “Release Leral and bind Koranel.”

  Anger filled Koranel’s expression as he stepped forward. “You cannot punish me for rejecting a blood oath, not outside of removing rank.”

  �
�I have yet to punish you,” Lyr replied as two warriors advanced on the captain, swords drawn. “But your words lead me to suspect your involvement in Norin’s misdeeds as well as our current crisis. You will be removed to the holding tower to consider your defense, and I suggest you take the time to do so before you speak to me again. The rank of Belore now passes to Kera.”

  Lial expected the man to protest, but he spoke not a word as his hands were tied behind his back with enchanted chains designed to prevent him from using magic. How could Lyr stand to delay? Lial wanted to demand answers from the drec now, slowly and with many unfortunate potions. After a few days retching up the contents of his stomach, perhaps the traitor would give them the information they needed.

  “I will not cooperate with this,” the former captain finally snapped.

  How much of this man’s negligence had Lial been forced to repair—literally? They had to find out, or more damage could be done. The memory of Lynia’s blood-covered body haunted the edge of his thoughts, but at the center of his mind was her constant pain. This betrayal might have gone back to Telien’s murder, and Lial would have saved her from that loss no matter how it affected his chance of happiness.

  “I hope your innocence is certain,” Lial found himself saying, “Or I will be happy to help convince you to share what you know.”

  Stunned silence echoed behind his words, and even Lyr gave him a surprised glance despite having joked about possible intimidation. In truth, Lial shouldn’t have broken protocol by speaking, but he couldn’t regret it. Not when Koranel blanched, fear shading his eyes as the warriors beside him gripped his arms. It was a well-known fact that one did not mess with a healer if one wished to remain whole.

  “Consider your choices wisely, Koranel,” Lyr said. Then he shifted his attention to Kera. “Do you accept the rank of Belore?”

  Though her movements were stiff with shock, Kera tapped her fist against her chest twice and bowed. “I do, Myern. I am honored to be found worthy.”

  “Then Belore Kera, please escort these two to the holding tower and begin a search for Korel,” Lyr said. “I would speak to Leral for a moment.”

  Lial stifled his impatience as the prisoners were led from the room and Lyr commended Leral for his loyalty. The young trainee even offered to take a blood oath before Lyr dismissed him, thankfully without accepting said oath. Lial itched with the desire to flee the room and tend to all that awaited him before he decided to poison Koranel in truth.

  But Lyr would not be denied his all-important report.

  There were few things that brought Delbin greater enjoyment than spending Ralan’s money with abandon, but waiting for his purchases from the comfort of Vek’s posh living room in the mountains above Chattanooga was definitely one of them. His feet propped up on the large trunk waiting to be carried to Moranaia, Delbin hit start on the latest video game on Vek’s new system. He’d rarely had the chance to game on the road with the carnival. Of course, living in a tent hadn’t helped. Sort of tough to have a TV and game system in that kind of setup.

  He was halfway through the second level when the doorbell rang. Finally. He’d started to worry that the mission would be delayed since it was already past eight in the evening, a bit late for deliveries. He paused the game and darted to the door. With Meren on the loose, Inona was outside keeping an eye out for trouble, and she wouldn’t break her cover to accept a package.

  A harried-looking delivery person waited on the other side, a stack of packages at her feet. Delbin winced. Those had to be hella heavy since they all held books. After signing the device she held out, Delbin dug a hundred-dollar bill out of his pocket and handed it over. Ralan wouldn’t notice the lack, and it might make her day better.

  It took a moment to convince her to take the cash, but once she’d climbed back in her delivery truck, Delbin started carrying the boxes in. As he hefted the last one, Inona rounded the corner. He couldn’t help but grin.

  “Great timing.”

  Inona smirked. “I thought so.”

  “Well, at least help me load all these into the trunk,” Delbin said.

  Without argument, Inona joined him in opening the boxes and stacking the books carefully inside the partially full trunk. He’d already found a variety of magazines and pop culture books, along with a few on history and medicine. These newest were more specialized, and he had a feeling he didn’t want to know why Lynia needed them. Infectious diseases? Medical research equipment? Modern healthcare?

  Yep, definitely didn’t want to know.

  Only the last box of books had another destination—Ralan. These had been the only ones to truly give Delbin pause, but he’d used Ralan’s credit card to order them. If a government agency wanted to know why someone needed weapon schematics, they could try to hunt down Ralan on Moranaia. Books on gunsmithing and such didn’t seem to be illegal, but Delbin didn’t want to be on a watch list for buying them, either.

  Ah, well. That was Ralan’s problem.

  Delbin tucked those books into a separate tote bag and secured it on the top of the chest before closing the lid. “That’s the last of it.”

  “Then I suppose you should contact Dria to activate the gate to the outpost.” Inona tipped her head toward the TV. “If you can pull yourself away from your game.”

  Smiling, Delbin pulled her close for a quick kiss. “Sure, but I have an errand to run first.”

  Her brows drew together. “What?”

  “A mission of mercy.” At her deepening frown, he chuckled. “Come on. You’ll see.”

  After all, Lynia and Ralan weren’t the only ones wanting something from Earth.

  Chapter 20

  Though it was a mark or so until dawn, Lynia headed back to the library after Lial left. She was too keyed up to sleep, and a large stack of books awaited her, courtesy of the palace archives. Not that Caraden had bothered to contact her personally—one of Braelyn’s helpers had notified Lynia of the books’ arrival. But Lynia didn’t have the time or energy to worry for long about her former friend’s rudeness. She was far too thrilled by her newest acquisitions to dwell on those unpleasant thoughts.

  At least her erstwhile friends were good researchers. She counted three history books about Abuiarn and five tomes attributed to Tebid Ored. There was also a large text about Rrelen that included an expanded version of An Account of Tebid Ored: The Trials of Rrelen. She could copy these for the library here and then sift through them for relevant information.

  Lynia gathered a stack of blank books from a lower bookshelf and carried them to the table. It would take power and time to copy the entire contents of each tome, but it would be worth it. Then she wouldn’t have to worry about Caraden needing the books back before she was done, and the information would be in her head, besides. Not that that would make it effortless to process. Lists of facts, like the uses of certain herbs, were easy to pull from her memory and use, but detailed texts required a fair amount of note-taking to grasp.

  By the time she’d managed to spell-transfer the information to the blank books, a couple of marks had passed, and morning light glinted weakly through the windows despite the intermittent, icy drizzle. Lynia stood and rubbed at her back, stretching slightly to keep the muscles loose. At least the worst of the ice had passed. According to the weather mages, even the trailing drizzles should be gone by the end of the day. Perhaps then, her beleaguered back wouldn’t seize up so frequently.

  The door opened, and Arlyn and Selia entered, Iren and Eri trailing sullenly behind. Ah, lessons. She’d almost forgotten they were scheduled for bookwork this morning. Even Arlyn’s expression looked a touch downcast, as she would be joining the children in Moranaian history lessons. If Delbin were here, the torture session would be complete.

  “I’ll get us started if you want to help Elnaia,” Arlyn said to Selia as they neared the tables. “Provided she wants help, that is.”

  Lynia smiled when both women glanced her way. “I’ll rarely refuse anyone willing to sift t
hrough texts with me.”

  “I would be happy to.” Selia placed her hand on her son’s shoulder and gave him a stern look while Arlyn continued toward their usual table. “And I trust you will listen to Ayala Arlyn. I don’t want to hear you whispering with Eri instead of reading your lessons.”

  The little girl in question smiled up at Selia. “I won’t distract him. Lady Lynia needs to get her work done in case she decides to sleep with Lial again.”

  Lynia’s skin burned with her sudden blush, and a choked sound left Arlyn’s throat as she spun to stare. Though Iren nudged the girl with his elbow, Eri’s smile only grew, and Selia’s mouth gaped as she struggled to find an appropriate response.

  “That is not…” Lynia began, but words failed her.

  “It was a good idea,” Eri said. “You both slept so much better.”

  Alas, the comment didn’t help.

  “I must question what the goddess allows children to See these days,” Selia murmured.

  “It was an innocent moment,” Lynia defended. Not that she should have to explain herself. “I’d had a bad dream, he was exhausted, and… Never mind. More to the point, Eri, how did you know what happened if you can’t see Lial’s future strands?”

  Eri shrugged. “You’re not Lial.”

  “And you’re scanning my futures to see how I spend my evening?” Gods, Lynia did not envy Ralan and Cora. “Perhaps you need longer history lessons to occupy your time.”

  “No.” Eri’s nose wrinkled, and a hint of worry entered her gaze. “I’m sorry if I did something wrong. I wasn’t trying to cause a problem.”

  Lynia’s embarrassment faded enough for objectivity to return, and the truth of the child’s words crystalized. Poor Eri. She wasn’t old enough to understand the implications of what she’d revealed, nor had she learned enough social rules to comprehend staying silent about private matters. It didn’t help that she’d spent her first few years on Earth, too ill to leave her house. She’d barely been running around on Moranaia for a handful of months.