“Why's Tania restrained?” Aryn tried to make out features through the T-slit in the legionnaire's shiny metal helmet, embossed with images of flowing springs. Another detail offered by his enhanced dream world sight.
The legionnaire shrugged and armor clanked. “She slapped the captain, hauled off and smacked him good. Captain didn't particularly like that.”
She slapped him? Aryn picked up his quarterstaff, leaned on it, and waited. He ignored Xander's furious gaze and watched Ona confer with Traeger.
Tania stood aside now, no longer restrained. Soon Captain Traeger shook his head. He pressed a hand to Ona's arm but she tossed it off.
Ona stormed back to Xander. Captain Traeger pointed and another of his legionnaires stepped into her path. When Ona stopped, Aryn was certain she was going to tackle the man. What in the Six Seas was going on here?
Traeger closed the distance and joined the men holding Xander. “Elder Honuron.” Traeger hardly squinted, even with the bright sun right in his eyes. “I'm afraid you're under arrest.”
Xander snorted in a way that obviously implied “You don't say.”
Traeger wore no helmet, and Aryn spotted dark circles under his eyes. His square chin was covered in stubble. All unusual for a man of his rank, which suggested the captain had been up for some time.
Aryn spoke because Xander could not. “Why are you arresting Xander?” He winced at the big man’s glare. “And why is he gagged?”
“Turns out he's a Bloodsinger,” Traeger said. “I don't particularly care to have my guts sung out.”
Aryn guffawed. Traeger's claim was ridiculous — or was it? Everyone knew Torn had been the last of the Bloodsingers, mages who altered the world through song. Could it be true?
Bloodsingers used the Ancient language like the peoples of old, performing feats beyond those possible with glyphs. No Bloodsingers still lived — the art was lost — yet Xander was the grandson of the last man who knew how to sing. Torn’s songs had raised mountain ranges.
Yet how could Xander learn anything from Torn? Torn had thrown himself through the Mavoureen gates at Terras eight months before Melyssa bore their first child, Varyn: Xander's father. Was this yet another lie perpetrated by Adept Anylus?
“If Xander’s going to be gagged from here on out,” Aryn said, “how can he deny that claim or defend himself?”
“Are you volunteering to act as his counsel, Aryn Locke?” Of course Traeger remembered him. Not many forgot a man who walked out of the Unsettled Lands with charred skin and his own tribe of gnarls.
“I am.” As the son of Mayor Dupret, Aryn had status. “And I am curious. Bloodsinging, while rare, is not a crime. So why arrest Xander?”
“Because Kara's gone,” Traeger said, “Adept Anylus is dead, and we have an eyewitness who swears he saw Xander in the royal palace last night.”
Xander went limp as a man who had just been punched in the gut. Aryn wanted to scream at the open sky. They had been so close!
Had Xander gone after Kara? Had he been that stupid? Had he finally taken revenge for Anylus’s attack on him ten years ago?
Aryn searched Xander's eyes for guilt, anger. Satisfaction.
All he found was despair.
Chapter 20
“I’D LIKE TO REQUEST AN AUDIENCE with the king.” Aryn turned back to Traeger. “How soon can that happen?”
“Given the king asked Xander be brought to him immediately, I'd say right now.” Traeger snapped his fingers. “Bring up the wagons!”
Four legionnaires entered a wagon ahead of them, and then two more forced Xander into that wagon as well. Ona rode atop the wagon with Captain Traeger, in the driver’s seat. Aryn wondered if Tania would be the last woman to slap Traeger today.
The other legionnaires ushered Aryn and Tania into the back of another covered wagon, leaving them alone inside. An audience with King Haven would tell Aryn why Haven had imprisoned Kara in the first place. Not that it made a damn bit of difference now.
“Hey.” As the wagon rumbled off, Tania slipped beneath Aryn's arm and pressed against him. “You did great. No one died, and given the mood Traeger was in this morning, that's better than we could expect.”
“I did my best.” She felt so good against him. “We'll sort this out.”
“Xander did plan to rescue Kara. Why do you believe he didn't?”
Tania was testing him, still. Training him. What evidence did he have?
“Xander's no fool. Sneaking into the castle is an act of desperation, the last resort of a man without options, yet we gave Xander one attractive option yesterday. Meeting Traeger. Why risk being seen?”
“Perhaps he grew impatient.”
“Xander Honuron is one of the most powerful mages I've ever seen. He kills Anylus, yet doesn't disintegrate the body? He's witnessed killing Anylus, yet lets the witness live? And after sneaking Kara out successfully, he still meets us this morning, with Ona and without his daughter?”
“You make good points, counsel.” Tania squeezed him. “Let’s hope King Haven is in the mood to listen. If someone murdered the royal adept, that’s bound to put him in a bad mood.”
Aryn needed to know how things had gone so wrong this morning. “What happened in the tavern? Why was Captain Traeger holding you?”
“I found Traeger and told him I wanted to arrange a meeting with Xander Honuron. He scowled, stood, and called his legionnaires. Then he ordered me to tell him where Xander was.”
“Is that when you slapped him?”
“I asked him what crime Xander had committed, and he told me Xander murdered Adept Anylus and abducted Kara. When I told him I knew that was not possible, he gave me a look that promised he disagreed.”
Aryn smiled. “Then you slapped him.”
“It seemed the most straightforward way to be arrested, and Traeger had no time to call another squad to drag me away. Not if he wanted to move on Xander before he escaped. So here we came, together.”
“So that's your only reason. Strategic slapping.”
“A sad necessity of unexpected circumstances.”
“Still,” Aryn said. “Did you enjoy it?”
Satisfaction curled Tania's lips. “Why would I enjoy something like that?”
The wagon ground to a halt. Aryn waited with Tania until a helmeted legionnaire poked her head in through the flap. “Out, please.” At least they were being polite about this arrest. Probably because no one died.
Aryn emerged into a courtyard just inside the closed gates of the royal palace. Pennants bearing the white and blue colors of Mynt flapped on high poles. The courtyard was empty save for their wagon, the one that carried Xander and Ona, and a dozen armored legionnaires.
Two legionnaires manhandled Xander out of the back of the wagon. It seemed Kara’s father had his fight back. Yet when Xander's eyes met Aryn's, he didn’t scowl. He must now know Aryn would plead his case.
Aryn strode over to join Xander, the legionnaires, and Ona, who hopped from the wagon. “I know you didn't kill Anylus or take Kara,” Aryn said. “I'll do everything I can to prove your innocence.”
Ona relaxed, squeezing Xander’s arm. Xander just raised an eyebrow. Aryn had clubbed this man on the back of his head this morning.
“Do you need time to prepare your case?” Traeger asked.
“I'm ready now.” What else did he have to prepare? “Let's go.”
Traeger marched up the palace’s marble steps, two legionnaires following with Xander. Ona followed them, and Aryn and Tania made up the last of the procession. The rest of Traeger’s squad remained in the courtyard, tending horses and talking among themselves. The tale of arresting Torn Honuron's grandson would fill Honest Jack's tavern tonight.
“Excuse me!” a man yelled.
Aryn turned to find a pudgy man only a few years older than he was rushing up the steps. His tan skin made him Tellvan stock — a rare sight in Tarna's capital — and he wore white and blue robes marking him as a Lifewarden. He had short black
hair and blue eyes, like Trell.
“Mister Honuron,” the man huffed. “I just wanted to apologize for the street.” His voice was husky, like Trell's. Too many years of breathing sand.
Xander just stared at the man. Captain Traeger slammed a knocker into the massive door. The impact echoed.
“I had orders,” the man said, “and those orders were to stop you from glyphing at us. I hope I didn't hurt you. And if it helps, sir, I don't believe you did this.”
Xander chuckled behind his gag and Aryn catalogued a possible ally. A loyal Lifewarden could prove useful, especially one who worshipped Torn and, by extension, his descendants. “May I ask your name, sir?”
“Erius.” The man bowed deeply, but not to Aryn. “And I just wanted to say, again, it's an honor to meet you. I had no idea Kara was—”
“Thank you, Erius.” Aryn cut him off as Traeger opened the door and legionnaires led Xander away. He stepped down and gripped Erius's wrist, pulling the wide-eyed man close. “Stay nearby. We may need you.”
When Erius saw the charred face inside Aryn's cowl, he paled and stammered. “Yes, yes sir.” He said nothing else as Aryn walked away.
Traeger led them down a wide hall. Its floor was alternating bands of gray and brown stone. Thick stone arches supported this hallway, with wooden braces supporting dozens of glass lanterns nestled in their upper reaches. Aryn’s new dream world sight continued to amaze him.
They cut away from the main hall, headed up narrow spiral steps, and emerged into a much smaller hallway of gray stone. Aryn suspected this was a private hallway reserved for royal servitors. Traeger led them to a small room and unlocked it with a glittering key. He opened the door.
King Haven sat on the bench against the room’s back wall, one heavy brown boot resting on the knee of his linen pants. He wore a fur belt and a blue silk shirt. He wore no crown or other conspicuous jewelry.
“Xander Honuron.” King Haven rose. “I thought you just a legend.”
The room's only furnishings were a thick rug, dyed Mynt blue, and a pair of wooden benches with plush white and blue cushions. Rather patriotic. A balcony overlooked the massive city of Tarna, a city Aryn now saw put Locke to shame. You could easily fit twenty Lockes into just what he could see.
Haven glanced at Aryn. “You've agreed to act as his counsel?”
Aryn pulled his new vision off the sprawl and bowed. “Yes, my king.”
“Let me see your face.”
Aryn pulled back his cowl to reveal his charred, eyeless visage. Though Traeger made no sound — he had seen it before — one of the legionnaires with them gasped. Aryn would need to get used to that.
“You were a champion of Heat,” Haven said. “You fought the Mavoureen at Kara's side.”
“That's correct.” Had Kara told King Haven everything? Then why lock her away at all?
“How can you see?” Haven asked.
“Tania taught me to see using the dream world. It's not perfect, but it's better than being blind.”
“So you're training to be andux orn?”
Xander skewered Aryn with a fresh glare, but Aryn ignored it. He hadn’t been part of the andux orn when Anylus tried to kill Xander. He bore no blame for that incident. As for Valar himself...
“Yes, my king. Tania is my teacher.” He saw no path forward but to ask. “I’ve been informed Anylus is dead, and you believe Xander killed him. Have you spoken to Valar about that?”
“You refer to the incident ten years ago.” King Haven tapped his chin. “Adept Anylus had wide latitude in his duties, and that included managing the andux orn. If he indeed sent Valar to kill Xander, I’m certain he had a valid reason.”
“What reason could he have to order Xander’s murder,” Aryn asked, “when Xander is not Demonkin?” Time to plant some doubts.
Haven looked to Tania. “You've confirmed this?”
“Yes, my king.” Tania curtseyed. “Xander Honuron bears no Demonkin taint, yet Royal Adept Anylus sent Valar to murder him. For the crime of being a Demonkin. Isn't that odd?”
“Would that we could ask him.” Haven locked eyes with Xander. “Did you murder my royal adept? A shake of your head will suffice.”
After a long moment, Xander shook his head.
“Did you take your daughter?”
Xander shook his head again.
“My king,” and Ona stepped to Xander's side, “I must know.” She trembled, hands clenched. “What happened to Kara?”
Haven looked to Captain Traeger. “Tell them what happened this morning. All of it, including the other murders.”
“After the incident with the Mavoureen,” Traeger said, referring to Abaddon's attack on Tarna's gates, “we moved Kara to protective custody, a guest room beneath the throne room.”
“You placed her in a cell,” Ona corrected.
“This morning,” Traeger said, “the soldiers who relieved the night's watch found both men on Kara's door murdered, not a mark on them. A Bloodmender determined they had been asphyxiated.”
Aryn latched onto the detail. “Asphixiation sounds like the work of an Aerial. Could one be involved?”
“Glyphbinders like Elder Honuron know Aerial glyphs as well as everything else,” Traeger said, and Aryn should have expected the man to know his glyph schools. “I wrote letters to the wives of the dead soldiers this morning. One had a three-year-old girl. She'll never know her father now.”
Ona gripped Xander's arm. “And our daughter?”
“Gone,” Traeger said. “The room was locked when we arrived and empty when we opened it. There's only one way in or out of that tower.”
“Why do you think Xander committed this crime?” Aryn asked. “Did anyone actually see Xander enter that room, or see Kara leave?”
“We have a witness,” Traeger said. “But if I speak his name, who's to say Xander won't kill him as well?”
Xander snorted and rolled his eyes, but Aryn saw the opportunity and seized it. If Anylus had been involved in some sort of conspiracy, conspiracies required participants. This eyewitness might be another traitor.
“I don't believe Xander killed anyone,” Aryn said, “but I understand your concern for your witness. I give you my oath, as a member of Locke's noble family, that I will not reveal your witness's identity to anyone. I will, however, need to speak with them on Xander’s behalf.”
Aryn's oath as a Mynt noble carried heavy weight, all he had left from his life as Mayor Dupret's third son. Haven stroked his beard and considered. Traeger didn’t move a muscle, but his dream form rippled nervously.
Haven nodded at last. “You may speak to our eyewitness. As you no doubt understand, questioning Xander directly will be difficult. A song from his lips can blow the walls off my palace.”
“I also don't believe he's a Bloodsinger,” Aryn said, “but if it comes to giving testimony, Xander can write.”
“Our eyewitness heard him singing last night,” Traeger said. “Xander sang and opened a hole right in the palace wall. It closed behind him.”
Xander snorted rudely. Not helping his case.
“Everything comes back to this eyewitness, doesn't it?” Aryn looked around the room for agreement. “May I interview him now?”
Haven looked to Traeger. “See to it.”
Traeger frowned back. “My king—”
“I'll be fine.” Haven gestured at Xander. “This man is bound, gloved, and gagged. Or do you not trust your own legionnaires to keep me safe?”
Traeger nodded as his dream form rippled again. “Follow me, counsel.” He looked like he had swallowed something sour.
“Tania.” Aryn brushed her hand. “Come with me?”
“Of course.” He loved that he could see her smile.
“Thank you,” Ona said, stepping close. “For helping us.”
“I’m just sorry I couldn't stop this from happening.”
“Just concentrate on proving my husband’s innocence. And be careful.”
Aryn felt a ch
ill at Ona’s reminder. The person who had actually murdered Anylus might still be in the palace. Traeger led him down the narrow hall, Tania at his side. The door closed behind them.
“You're doing well,” Tania whispered, lips tingling against his ear. “As a noble, you carry more weight as Xander's counsel than I would. Andux orn aren't often called to trial.” She didn't have to remind him why.
Tania said nothing about her opinion of executing Demonkin. A good teacher would not want to guide her student's answers. If he was not constantly thinking about kissing her, Tania might make an even better one.
Again the thought of a real relationship, one that could lead to marriage and children, seemed alluring and impossible. Aryn had been certain he would never be with anyone after escaping the Underside, especially Sera. He still loved Sera, didn't he? Should he?
Aryn pondered his feelings for Tania. Did he love her too, already? Could he love more than one woman at the same time? He did not know. What he did know is the thought of losing her terrified him.
“Tania, wait here.” Traeger stopped by a closed wooden door. “Aryn must question the witness alone.”
“Naturally.” Tania settled against the wall. “Do be thorough, dear.”
Traeger turned the handle to the closed oak door. “You may talk as long as you like, but I need to be in there with you. Understood?”
“I'll take no more time than I need.” A diplomatic statement if there ever was one. If only he had a trained Bloodmender with him!
Traeger led Aryn inside and closed the door with an audible thump. An older man with thinning black hair looked up from an aging wooden desk. He sat enjoying a meal of sausage, grapes, and wine. Considering he had seen people murdered last night, he did not look at all traumatized.
“Councilman Charrod,” Traeger said, “is the king's treasurer, a trusted advisor for decades. Councilman, this is Aryn Locke, son of Mayor Dupret Locke. He is acting as Xander Honuron's counsel.”
“Aryn Locke!” Charrod stood and walked over, smiling wide. “What a pleasure. I know your father. We've spoken quite often, and—”
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