Suriax

by Amanda Young

  “Lynnalin,” Marcy warned, shrugging her off.

  “Really?” Thomas asked, intrigued. He spoke to Lynnalin but kept his eyes on Marcy.

  “Yes, they were both murderers,” She leaned in and whispered conspiratorially.

  “Lynn!”

  “What? It’s true. By the way, I’m Lynnalin.” She held out her hand for Thomas to kiss. He took it but only inclined his head slightly. Marcy hid a grin at Lynnalin’s slightly disappointed expression. The grin died when she saw the way Thomas glanced back at her from the corner of his eye. She knew he wanted to ask her about her parents, but he was too polite to do so in front of someone else.

  “Anyway, here is your present.”

  Out of politeness she took the gift and opened it. Inside the box was a broach shaped like a butterfly. “It has some spells on it, but you will have to wear it to find out what they are,” she winked.

  “This is too much,” Marcy argued. The wings gleamed of blue stones. The setting was black onyx. Even without the added magical effects, it was a generous gift.

  “It’s from when I needed to practice putting spells on inanimate objects. This was my test object.”

  “You don’t know what all spells are on here do you?” Marcy teased.

  “Well, I know which ones I tried to do, but I’m not all sure what took. So enjoy, and hopefully it won’t blow you up.” Lynnalin followed up her comment with a big grin.

  “Tell me again why I’m friends with a mage,” she lamented.

  “Because we’re fun. Well I wish I could stick around, but I have to get going,” Lynnalin announced, picking up her bag. “There is this party in the center ring of the tree for all the mages. We are going to use our spells to put on a light show.” Her eyes twinkled with excitement.

  “Before you go, you wouldn’t happen to have any more change appearance spells I could use?” She hated to ask for something after she just gave her a gift, but that scroll was the best shot they had to get out of the city if things went wrong.

  Lynnalin did not look the least disturbed by her request. “I think so,” she dug into her bag. After pulling out a handful of scrolls, she found the one she needed and handed it to Marcy. “Last one. I can make some more, but it will take time.”

  “One is good. I really appreciate it.” She hugged Lynnalin and accepted the scroll gratefully.

  She felt a little strange leaving. Lynn was a good friend, and they may never see each other again. Only, she couldn’t tell her that. She waved good bye and ran down the stairs, probably thinking they would run into each other again in a day or two. Marcy looked down at her gift and felt guilty. She replayed the entire conversation through her head. Every word had more importance and meaning when looked at through the lens of a final conversation, the last words you would ever speak to each other. Then something else about their conversation stuck out in her head. “I just realized you never told her your name, and she didn’t even notice. Neither did I, for that matter.”

  “Sometimes anonymity has its perks.”

  “I can understand why you did not want to volunteer your name, but how did you do that without us noticing?” she pressed.

  “It’s not that difficult. People rarely pay much attention to what someone else says when they meet for the first time. Most of your focus is going to be on yourself and what you are saying. People are inherently a little self-centered. Some are more so than others, but we all have that tendency that is easy to exploit if you know how to do it.”

  They came to a crossroads. The path north led back to Bradley and Veronica’s home. The path west led to her home and her brother’s tavern. She almost took the westward path out of habit. How many times had she walked that way, she wondered. Three hundred steps down the tree lined road would take her to a curve. Another few hundred feet and she would be able to hear the excitement from the racetrack. She could see every tree, every road, every home and business. At the end of her walk would be her brother. Before she could imagine what she would say, Thomas took her hand and started down the westward path. “What are you doing?”

  “You have someone you need to say ‘goodbye’ to.” It wasn’t a question.

  “My brother,” she answered. He began walking again. “Wait, we can’t. There’s no time, and besides, they will be looking for me there.”

  Thomas turned to face her, smiling warmly. He still held her hand. “We can’t do anything until morning, so time is not an issue, and let me worry about the guards. Neither of us knows what awaits us tomorrow. You should see your brother.” Without waiting for her response, he led her home.

  * * *

  “I told you this was a bad idea.” Marcy and Thomas hid just inside the tree line across the street from her brother’s tavern. Royal Guards kept coming and going. It wasn’t completely uncommon for guards to eat at the tavern, but these guards were much too alert to be simply enjoying an evening meal or drink. Every time the door opened, she could see her brother talking to one. He did not seem pleased. No doubt, by now he was cursing her for whatever trouble she was in that could bring down the attention of the crown on his tavern. With all the business they were doing for the holiday, he would be angry with the distraction.

  “We’ll think of something,” Thomas assured her. “Maybe I can go in and talk to him, get him to come out.”

  Marcy looked at him doubtfully. The guards would probably still be hovering around the bar. They needed a way to communicate to Bryce without arousing suspicion. “I have an idea.” She pulled out a sheet of parchment and began folding it. Within seconds, she held a white flower in her hands. Thomas whistled in appreciation. “Get Bryce’s attention and put the flower on the counter. Once you know he has seen it, tell him you want to order your usual and ask if he can deliver it. Then meet me at the big tree by the park.”

  Thomas took the flower and disappeared inside the tavern. Not waiting for him to come out, Marcy made way to the rendezvous point.

  * * *

  “It didn’t work. He didn’t get the message.” Marcy paced around in front of the tree.

  “It’s only been a half hour. Why don’t you come and sit down?” Thomas patted the ground next to him and waited for her to comply.

  “Are you sure he saw the flower?”

  “Yes, he did a double take and looked at me very intently before one of the guards looked over, and he had to hide his reaction.” Marcy sighed and sat back, resting her head on his shoulder. “What’s the story behind the flower, anyway?”

  Marcy was quiet for so long he thought she would not answer. Finally, she spoke, her voice tinged with reflection and a hint of resigned sadness. “Bryce and I did not always get along. We have the same father but different mothers. He never approved of my mother and was angry with our father for remarrying. At first, he tried to separate them, but after I was born, he knew that would be impossible. He told me once that the day I was born was the second worst day of his life.”

  “Which is why you don’t celebrate your birthday,” he surmised.

  Marcy nodded. “When I was a child I would pick white roses that grew near our house and bring them to him as a kind of peace offering. It started out slowly at first, a rose here or there when he was particularly angry. Then I decided to bring him a flower ever day until he accepted me. It went on for a month before he told me I could stop. We’ve been fairly close ever since.”

  “What happened to his mother?” Thomas knew it was nosey, but he couldn’t help asking. Elves tended to mate for life, so half siblings and step parents were not as common as with other races. It was little wonder he would have difficulty dealing with his father remarrying.

  “She was murdered.” Thomas sat up a little straighter, his arm tightening reflexively. “It wasn’t my father, if that is what you’re wondering.” Thomas didn’t answer, but his guilty eyes gave him away. “It was a robbery gone wrong.”

  “But he did kill someone?” he couldn’t help asking.

  “You say th
at as though it were a bad thing. How many people have you killed?”

  Thomas understood her confusion. The Flame Guard had a reputation for certain unsavory activities. Many were little more than hired thugs, ready to do anything and everything for the right amount of gold. “We can refuse any job, even one issued by the crown. I avoid those jobs that would require me to kill.”

  “You killed those guards at Kern’s place.”

  “I didn’t say I couldn’t kill or that I hadn’t killed before, just that I avoid it when possible. Who did your father kill?”

  “Well, as I said before, my father’s first wife was killed in a robbery. It was back in Aleria during the Time of Black Law. They found the person responsible, but he had connections and a deep coin purse. He was released without punishment. My father tracked him down and killed him. Of course, they arrested my father, and he spent over ten years in prison before the purge. While in prison, he met someone, a woman convicted of killing her would be rapist. It just so happened he was also a prominent judge. No one believed her story and she was thrown in jail on a life sentence. After the purge, they married and I was conceived. They chose to move to Suriax, saying they didn’t trust the law to punish those who needed it. They wanted to live somewhere they could defend themselves and their family.” Marcy’s chin tilted up defiantly, daring him to find something wrong with her story or the choices her family made. The flicker of doubt in her eyes belied her challenging gaze. She was conflicted, though she would likely never admit it. The daughter of two killers, how else could she view this story but to believe them completely justified? Yet her eyes told a different story. She may love her parents and even understand why they did what they did, but something inside her doubted her conviction and beliefs. Thomas didn’t know what to say. Would he make a different choice in their circumstances? Luckily he didn’t have to answer that unasked question. Bryce chose that moment to appear at the edge of the clearing. Marcy rose and went to him, wrapping her brother in a warm hug. He hugged her back and immediately started grilling her for answers to what was going on. Thomas listened from the tree, not wanting to intrude on their conversation.

  “What have you gotten yourself into? I’ve had guards squatting at the tavern since last night. If not for all the idiot tourists, I’d have no business at all. The locals are steering clear.”

  “I know I’m sorry about that. I can’t go into the details, but it is serious. They are looking for Kern. I was watching his uncle, so now they are looking for me, hoping I can lead them to Kern.”

  “Can you?” Marcy looked away, biting her lip. “You have to tell them. Maybe then they will leave us alone.”

  “Bryce,” she chided.

  “I’m serious. I like him as much as you, but you do not want to mess with these people. If Kern is in trouble, he can get out of it, or not, himself. It is better to keep to yourself and not get their attention. Trust me. You do not want powerful people coming after you.”

  “I can’t. This is too important. Bryce, I am leaving the city, and I don’t know if I’m coming back.”

  “What? You are acting crazy. Are you that much in love with the man that you would throw your life away for him?”

  “I’m not in love with Kern,” she said, shocked he would suggest such a thing.

  “Why else would you do all this?”

  “Because it’s the right thing to do!”

  They both took a breath, allowing their tempers to subside before either spoke again. “Where are you going?” Bryce asked at last.

  “Aleria.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t get yourself killed. Here,” he handed her a ‘to go’ box from the tavern. “Some food for the road.”

  Marcy took the box, letting her hand linger on his. Bryce shot Thomas a pointed look but didn’t ask who he was. Marcy didn’t volunteer anything either. The less he knew, the better for everyone. She held the box and watched Bryce leave.

  Chapter 5

  Kern struggled against the guards’ hold, trying to explain himself. Sneaking into the palace had seemed like a good idea at the time. Okay, so it never seemed like a good idea, but what choice did he have? Getting an audience with the Kings or Queen was not that easy, especially when the guards learned he was from Suriax. He was lucky he hadn’t been deported on the spot. He couldn’t really blame them. It did look suspicious. Why would anyone from Suriax need to speak to the royal family? They had to protect their monarchs. There were other ways to get messages through, and given enough time he could possible even get them to arrange a meeting, but he didn’t have that kind of time, and it would require telling too many people who he was. So, he broke in. Everything would have gone fine, but they had anti-magic wards around the queen’s chambers that picked up on his magical items and alerted the guards the moment he passed the threshold.

  “What is going on here?” A woman dressed in a robe and nightgown entered from one of the other rooms in the suite.

  “Your Majesty, I apologize for the disturbance. We were just removing this law breaker. He broke into the palace and your room, Milady.”

  Kern looked at the woman before him and recognized her instantly from her picture. Many years passed since the portrait was painted, but there was no mistaking her identity. This was his sister. “Queen Mirerien, I need to talk to you. My name is Kern Tygi . . .”

  “You are aware that breaking into the palace is a crime?” she asked, cutting him off.

  “Yes, but . . .”

  “Take him away.” With a dismissive wave, she turned to go.

  “I’m your brother!”

  Mirerien stopped short and turned back to face him, studying him intently. The guards waited dutifully for her response. “Even if that were somehow true, it would be no reason for breaking the law. There are proper channels and procedures to go through.”

  “Wow, you are just as he described.”

  “Who?”

  “Uncle Frex.”

  Her previously controlled, emotionless demeanor melted away. “Frex? I thought he died.”

  “Not yet, but he isn’t much longer for this world. That’s actually what brought me here. To keep me safe, he’s been living in a self imposed exile all these years. I wanted to bring him home before it’s too late.”

  Mirerien looked off, lost in thought. Sensing her change, the guards relaxed their hold on Kern, looking at each other uncertainly. “Your Majesty?”

  The guards questioning tone snapped her back to the present. “Release him. You may go,” she dismissed them. Waiting for the guards to leave, Mirerien poured a couple of drinks, offering one to Kern. He accepted, eyeing the ruby liquid somewhat dubiously. He didn’t recognize the name on the bottle, but even he could tell it was expensive, likely as much as he made in a year. Taking a slow drink, he could appreciate its quality, but he knew he wouldn’t get used to it any time soon. He was more of a one copper piece ale drinker. It was a little unsettling to realize how his entire personality, who he was, what he thought, how he looked at the world could have been so very different if he had been raised here in the palace of Aleria instead of a small run down apartment in Suriax. He could have been a completely different person. Maybe his mother knew what she was doing after all.

  “Where is Frex, now?” she asked at last.

  “Suriax. That’s where we’ve been living.”

  Her face screwed up in disdain at the mention of Suriax. He felt the absurd urge to defend his home, but this wasn’t the time. He had other things to attend to first. “I’m loath to move him. Suriax has been his home for over two centuries, but someone found out about me, and I’m worried it may not be safe there any longer. I came here to see if he would be welcome were he to come here.”

  “Of course he would. He is family.”

  “I don’t mean to insult you,” he added quickly in response to her tone. “To be fair, I don’t know any of you. I didn’t even know we were related until a couple of days ago. Frex never told me any of this. As far as I�
��m concerned, he is my only family, and I won’t do anything to hurt him or bring him any pain. If I’m about to ask him to leave his home, I’m going to make damn sure he’s going to an even better one, with people who will care for him and treat him right. If you can promise me that place is here, I will take you at your word. If not, let me know now, and I will make my plans to keep him safe there.”

  Her face softened, whatever doubts she still had of his identity laid to rest by his heartfelt defense of Frex. “I fear I never cared for him as deeply as you apparently do. I could claim youthful ignorance, but that would only be an excuse. I have dedicated my entire life to the law, and I do not regret that, but I fear it has left me rather cold to others.”

  “Sister, are you alright?” The door opened, two men in their night tunics rushing in. They stopped short at seeing Kern. “So this is your visitor?” one of them said. They eyed Kern suspiciously. Their hands held sheathed swords, the securing leather straps hanging loose, evidence of the speed with which they made their way to her chamber.

  “You can put those away,” Mirerien said, indicating the swords. “As you can see, I’m in no danger. Now, say ‘hello’ to Kern, our brother.”

  * * *

  “So what are we going to do about our dear brother?” Eirae leaned against the door jam with his arms crossed in front of him.

  “What do you mean?” Mirerien poured three glasses of tea and handed them out.

  “You had to have noticed his jacket.”

  “Mirerien never pays attention to the goings on in Suriax,” Pielere replied. “It was the jacket of the Flame Guard,” he informed her.

  “The Flame Guard?” her eyes widened in distress.

  “Hence the need to figure out what we are going to do about him.” Eirae stepped away from the door. “Can we trust him?”