The King's Imposter (The Raven Bringer Saga Book 2)

by C. A. McHugh

  Mission accomplished.

  Seroney made a mental note to bring some fresh fish back for Bhasha to thank her for all her help. It had taken longer than she’d expected, but the familiar’s suggestions had worked.

  The Gentilmead markets appeared to be like any other market she’d come across. Vendors set up tents and awnings over their wagons. Their cries filled the air as they hawked their items to those passing by. There was every type of vendor imaginable—food, books, jewelry, clothing. A tinker proudly polished a gleaming copper pot as he boasted of its quality. A woman jumped out in front of them, draping a veil of the sheerest silk over the girls with the hope of luring them to her cart. The clang of the blacksmiths’ hammers could be heard off in the distance as they shod yet another horse. The tantalizing smell of roasting meat, warm bread, and baked fruit pies wafted through the air and drew scores of watering mouths to the chefs.

  But what made the Gentilmead markets unique were the vendors along Mannog Street. Here, the vendors didn’t sell typical ordinary street fare. Their wares included magical items, scrolls, and the components necessary to cast numerous rituals. Here, the vendors were less likely to call out, “Fresh fish!” and more likely to call out, “Fresh kermail! Protect yourself from the Werewolf’s bite!”

  Or “Get your very own ring of enchantment. Store up to three spells in it for emergency use!”

  Or “The best powdered dragon scale in the Kingdom! I guarantee it!”

  These carts were laden with various herbs for potions, with enchanted items to accentuate any caster, with spell books and scrolls and rare elements required for the arcane.

  Seroney’s palms itched as she perused the potion ingredients. How many months had it been since she had been able to experiment with her alchemy? Her mind blazed with the concoctions she could create with all the herbs and components available. But her excitement faded to disappointment as she remembered her promise to her uncle. Any distractions from her mission would not be wise. She sighed and feigned interest in some of the other items for sale.

  While Nyssa poured over the book titles for sale, Seroney lost interest and wandered over to a jewelry vendor. She toyed with some earbobs and pretended to see how they’d look in the mirror, all while keeping an eye on Aerrin and Leandros. But when her focus drifted back to her image in the mirror, the morphed features reflecting back startled her. She looked too human.

  “That’s a lovely necklace you’re wearing there, dearie.”

  Seroney jumped back and dropped the earrings she’d been holding.

  The jeweler placed her hand on her rotund hip, her gaze never wandering from Seroney’s amulet. “I’ve never seen the likes of it before, and I pride myself on creating one-of-a-kind trinkets. Where did you find that little bauble of yours?”

  Seroney clutched the green gem around her neck, relieved to feel the tingle of magic it contained in her hand. “It belonged to my grandfather.”

  “Well, I wonder if I could entice you to trade it for something else I have. That there pretty will fetch a fine price in Dromore. Them ladies of the court are always willing to plop down plenty of gold for something like that ‘cause they know there ain’t gonna be anyone else there with something like it.”

  Seroney backed away from the cart and its extremely loud owner who was drawing more attention to her amulet than she would’ve preferred. All it would take was a simple detect magic spell for someone to realize the stone was sepharium and not a common emerald. “No, it has a great deal of sentimental value for me.”

  Not to mention a great deal of magic brewing inside of it.

  Luckily, Nyssa rescued her from the street hawker with a call for help. She was carrying a pile of books that practically obscured her face, but what little bit of it Seroney could see was flushed with excitement. “I can’t believe all the great deals I found today!”

  The top two books bobbled, and Seroney reached out to grab them. How the girl managed to carry such a heavy stack amazed her.

  “Thanks,” Nyssa said as she placed them back on the top. “Perhaps I should cast a shrinking spell so these will be easier to carry.”

  A bump from another passerby threatened to trigger another avalanche of books, and Seroney rushed to help steady the stack. “That wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

  “Absolutely. I would hate to get any mud on these.”

  They ducked into the doorway of an inn, and Nyssa shrank all her books so they fit into a small sack. “Done. Let’s see what else we can find.”

  It was only then that Seroney realized she’d lost the one person she needed to keep an eye on. “Where are Aerrin and Leandros?”

  “Oh, you know how boys are,” Nyssa answered with a wave of her hand. “They probably went to drool over swords or something stupid like that.”

  “Why don’t we head over to the master weaponsmith’s tent and join them?”

  “No!” Nyssa cried, her voice tight with panic. “Um, I mean, let’s not go over there. There’s nothing there other than boring old swords and daggers and other such nonsense. Besides, I think the boys need time alone. We don’t need to get mixed up in the kind of trouble they’re probably getting themselves into.”

  Nyssa grabbed her arm and led her off in the direction of the clothing vendors, and Seroney marveled for the second time that morning how strong the other girl was. However, it didn’t stop the sneaking suspicion that the boys were doing something other than drooling over swords. And based on the way Nyssa was acting, she wasn’t supposed to find out.

  She jerked her arm free. “I don’t know about you, but I’m very interested in swords.”

  Not to mention, she was in danger of failing in her mission if she lost Aerrin.

  She turned on her heel and plunged back into the crowds, retracing her steps to the last place she’d seen the king. The ancient magic stirred within her blood, heightening her senses. The stench of rotting food and unwashed bodies assaulted her nose and made her stomach churn, but underneath it, she caught a faint whiff of the special soap that only the king used. She locked onto it as her vision sharpened. She’d been a fool to fall for Nyssa’s distraction, but she wouldn’t let it happen again.

  ***

  Raimel scampered to the rooftop just in time to see Aerrin and another young man take off from two girls who appeared to be their age. He laughed to himself. Wasn’t the king at the age when he should start chasing after girls? If his uncle Altos was any indication, Aerrin should have no problem with the ladies. Prince Altos had probably slept with every lady worth looking at in Dromore.

  But at least it meant Aerrin had gotten his message and was agreeable to their proposed meeting.

  Well, Ceryst’s proposed meeting. Raimel was just there for the unique offerings the market held. Sure, he could find some of the things he wanted in Dromore, but in doing so, he’d alert the King of Thieves that he was back in the city, and that might require another tribute to be paid. Although the last one wasn’t as bad as he’d feared. Kat hadn’t been lying when she said his target was a scumbag. Even if there hadn’t been a hit out on him, Raimel might’ve just killed him anyway to make the world a better place. Men who preyed on young girls didn’t deserve to live.

  Raimel skipped across the rooftops, easily getting ahead of the king and his friend by avoiding the crowded streets below. When they finally got to the empty alley he’d set up as a rendezvous point, Raimel jumped down and landed behind the two boys.

  Aerrin’s friend jumped, but when he turned around, his sword was drawn. At least the king’s friend had quick reflexes. Now, if only he wouldn’t skewer first and ask questions later.

  Raimel dodged the blade and scurried behind Aerrin. “Call off the guard.”

  “It’s okay, Leandros.” Aerrin spread out his arms to act as a barrier between the two other men. “I know him.”

  The young man eyed Raimel with a hint of mistrust, but at long last, he sheathed his sword.

  Smart boy.

  Now
that the threat was over, he could finally get to the business at hand. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with us, Your Majesty.”

  He cast one more glance down the alley. No guards. No watchmen. No one trailing after Aerrin to make sure he was safe. The king was completely unprotected. Not something Ceryst would want to hear. “Do they let you run around town unescorted like this?” he asked.

  “I have Leandros,” he replied, pointing to his blond, sword-happy friend.

  “And don’t forget Nyssa and Seroney,” the other boy said.

  Raimel’s attention sharpened when Leandros mentioned whom he assumed were the two girls. One of them was the girl Aerrin found suspicious. Funny that his friend didn’t seem to share the same doubts about her loyalty. “But they’re not here. You’d be wise to do as the Lone Wolf suggests and surround yourself with people you trust.”

  “I would’ve brought Nyssa along, but until I know she can keep our secrets, I thought it best if Seroney wasn’t here.”

  Raimel nodded toward Leandros. “But you told him, I take it.”

  “He’s my best friend, and I know firsthand how frustrating it is to be left in the dark.” A hint of more than just frustration crept into the king’s voice.

  “Point taken. If you trust him, then I suppose he can come along.” Raimel headed back toward the market and motioned for them to follow. “I’ll take you to the Lone Wolf, but first I need to check a few things off my shopping list, including a few vials of sangous potion.”

  Because the stupid, stubborn knight refused to take any in Dromore and still looked like shit after his blood loss. But if the king ordered him to take his medicine, maybe Ceryst would remember his vows and do as the king commanded.

  The alchemist’s shop was still in the same place he remembered, along a side street with not a lot of traffic or sunlight. The outside appeared to be nothing special. Dirty windows that kept people from peering inside. A wooden door that looked like it had seen better days but was secretly reinforced with a steel core. A faded wooden sign outside that was practically unreadable. In other words, the perfect place to find what he needed without drawing too much attention since only very few honest people actually frequented it.

  A spark of recognition filled the old man’s eyes when Raimel wandered in. Then his gaze shifted to the two oh-so-impressionable youths behind him, and his expression grew guarded.

  This business was all about who you knew and how well you trusted them. Raimel wouldn’t trust the alchemist with his life, per se, but the scar snaking along the man’s palm had told him years ago that the man wouldn’t ask too many questions, nor would he tell too many tales. Such was the brotherhood of thieves.

  Aerrin stayed close, hiding under his cloak, while his friend looked around the shop. When Leandros spotted an obstructive smoke bomb—perfect for concealing a quick getaway—he pointed to it and started to speak.

  Raimel quickly silenced him with a cough and a glare. They weren’t here for gag gifts.

  The boy seemed to get the message because he followed Aerrin’s lead and pulled his cloak around him.

  Once the shop was empty, Raimel approached the owner, waving his hand bearing the mark. “Good morning, Taymus.”

  “It’s afternoon,” the alchemist replied in a gruff voice. The man had to be nearly as old as Master Binnius, but he still looked like he could slit a man’s throat if needed. “Taking on apprentices?”

  “You could say that.”

  Taymus gave him a squinty-eyed appraisal for bullshit which then turned into a wry grin. “Staying out of trouble, Raimel?”

  “You know me. Couldn’t escape the bitch if I tried.” He leaned on the counter. “I need about half a dozen or so bottles of sangous potion.”

  “That all?”

  Raimel slid his gaze over to the boys and lowered his voice. “And maybe a few containers of liquid fire.”

  Aerrin stepped forward, his mouth open, but Raimel silenced him with the same glare he’d given Leandros. The scowl he got in response might mean more questions later, but at least the king knew to keep his mouth shut about the substance of questionable legality. Like most things in his life, liquid fire fit into one of those lovely gray areas.

  “And a couple of smoke bombs for the kids,” he added with a cheeky grin, drawing looks of annoyance from both of the boys.

  Taymus stared directly at Aerrin. “I’m not sure I have all that you’re looking for.”

  Translation: the little upstart raised my hackles, and I’m not going to be arrested because of some snot-nosed kid.

  Raimel dropped more than he planned on spending for the purchase, but silence and compliance were two things he could afford to buy, especially when he’d extract repayment from the king. The clang of the coins on the counter said all he needed to say on the matter.

  Taymus gathered the coins up, his lips moving as he silently counted them up and calculated what else was being purchased in addition to the potions. Once he did, his grin widened to reveal a set of yellowed, worn-down teeth. “Let me see what I can find.”

  “Much appreciated.” Raimel turned back to the boys and silently dared them to say anything.

  The blond one must not have been too bright because he pointed to the smoke bombs he’d been looking at and asked, “So, does that mean I’m getting that?”

  “Yeah.” Raimel sat on the edge of the counter, letting his legs swing in the air while casting a lockdown spell on the front door. The last thing he needed was a customer coming in and ruining his chances of getting that liquid fire. Just a few drops of the stuff was potent enough to incinerate a demon, and after the ambush in Edensdowne, he needed every trick he could fit up his sleeve in case the Raven Bringer decided to repeat the performance.

  “And don’t worry—I’ll be sure to send you the receipt for reimbursement.”

  That only deepened the king’s frown.

  Geez, the boy reminded him too much of Ceryst. He hopped down from the counter just as Taymus reappeared from the back.

  “I’m afraid I wasn’t able to procure everything on your list, but this might do in a pinch.”

  Translation: I found what you wanted and here it is, but I don’t trust the kid as far as I can throw him.

  Raimel nodded and took the handful of vials from Taymus, noting the two thin obsidian ones nestled in the middle. He had the liquid fire he wanted. The other vials contained a filmy pale blue liquid. “Healing potions?”

  Taymus nodded and gave him the same toothy grin. “I figured if you needed that much sangous potion, you must be getting into more scrapes than usual. Speaking of which.”

  He waited until Raimel had slipped the two black vials up his sleeve before giving him a small pouch with six stoppered bottles of thick, smelly rust-colored slime. Sangous potion worked wonders in restoring lost blood after someone had sustained a significant injury, despite tasting like three-day-old vomit.

  Raimel showed Aerrin the contents of the pouch to prove he was being legit before adding the healing potions and pulling it closed. “The kids can grab their smoke bombs on the way out. Come along, boys. We don’t want to keep the people waiting.”

  Leandros grabbed his smoke bomb with an excited whoop, but Aerrin peered into the gray glass orb with something akin to disgust.

  “Hey, kid, don’t knock it until you try it.” Raimel ruffled his hair and gestured for him to come along. “That little bomb might save your hide one day.”

  The lockdown spell faded the moment he touched the doorknob, and they slipped back into the streets of Gentilmead. His skin prickled with warning, and he glanced up into the sky just in time to witness a flock of ravens pass over the rooftops. He braced for the taunts, for the voice that could seize control of both his mind and body, but after a few seconds, nothing happened.

  I’m getting too paranoid for my own good. If I’m not careful, I’m going to turn into Ceryst.

  He shook off his trepidation and moved forward. The Raven Bringer might be the
re at the moment, but the sooner they informed Aerrin of what they’d discovered, the better.

  ***

  The king’s scent led Seroney past the main hubbub of the markets and toward the darker, deserted allies on the outskirts of town. It grew stronger with each step, each corner, until a new odor overwhelmed it.

  Brimstone.

  Her blood chilled from the sulfuric smell. It singed the inside of her nostrils as though it carried the heat from the fires that created it. Brimstone only meant one thing—demons.

  She halted and tried to zero in on the source, her mission never far from her mind. She refused to let some infernal demon outwit her and get to the king before she did.

  She called upon the ancient magic to aid her, to give her sight beyond sight. The dilapidated buildings lining the street rippled and blurred, but their colors became brighter, more intense. Her eyes watered from the strain, but in less than a minute, she found what she was looking for.

  A small imp materialized a few feet away and crouched in the shadows, his attention so fixed on an alchemist’s shop across the street that he didn’t notice her.

  Seroney bit back a groan. For what they lacked in size, imps more than made up for in trouble. It was best she dealt with it now before it unleashed its own brand of annoying chaos. The first spell she cast brought it fully into this realm. The second locked him there.

  The imp turned to her and revealed three rows of razor sharp teeth in a malicious grin.

  It did little to intimidate her. She had fangs of her own. Instead, she crossed her arms and asked, “What are you up to?”

  The imp’s grin only widened, and its claws elongated.

  The ancient magic called on her to retaliate, to flex her own claws and show the imp exactly what it was messing with. A few years ago, she would’ve done such a thing. But too much was at stake now. Rather than risk revealing all that she was, Seroney decided to let her magic do all the talking.