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The Elder Blood Chronicles Bk 1 In Shades of Grey

Page 10

by Melissa Myers


  He gave a light chuckle and smiled at her. “Yes to both. On the first hand, I thought you meant to kill me, so I was on guard, which means you had very little chance of actually accomplishing that task. As to the other, my full name is Christian Morcaillo, High Lord Morcaillo’s son.” He held up his right hand and waved his finger to indicate a large ring set with an enormous sapphire. “Another good tip for dealing with people in Sanctuary is to look always for a signet ring.”

  She nodded her understanding and swallowed a lump in her throat. A High Lord’s son and she was still dressed in her faded blue dress and no doubt covered in road dust. She blushed slightly and leaned back in her seat. “I had no idea. I’m sorry, Milord,” she said meekly.

  He gave another laugh and shook his head. “I didn’t tell you so you would call me Lord. I was simply explaining why I thought you might be an assassin. No need to be embarrassed.” With a smile, he leaned over and plucked a chicken feather from her braid, and she felt her blush deepen. His smile widened, and he suppressed another chuckle. “I’m sure I don’t look much better, I’ve had a rather rough day. If you like, you can get cleaned up in the back. Past the seats there, you will find a door. That’s my room; there is a shower and a mirror.” She glanced toward the back, with obvious hope, and he motioned her away with his hand. “Go on, we will talk more after you are refreshed.”

  Hesitantly, she stood and moved to the smaller of her two trunks for fresh clothing. The material inside shone softly in the ship’s pale light and she felt her breath catch. Silks and velvets lay where she had packed cotton. All the garments were rich in color, and some had jewels or fur. They all seemed too fine for day-to-day wear. With a bit of dismay, she opened the second trunk to look for simpler clothing. Inside were more of the same and another small wooden chest atop the rest. She opened it with curiosity. She hadn’t packed this. She didn’t even own a box like it. Inside cradled in velvet lining was jewelry of the sort she had never seen before. Rubies, sapphires, diamonds, and some stones she had no names for all cased in delicate gold and platinum. A queen’s fortune in jewels! She felt herself drop lightly back on her butt to sit directly on the ship’s floor.

  “Problem?” Christian called from the front.

  “No, nothing wrong, just trying to decide what to wear,” she called back, a bit too quickly. She bit her lower lip and hastily closed the jewel case. With another quick look at the clothing, she hastily decided on a deep purple silk dress, and on impulse grabbed a long silver colored jacket with white fur at the collar and cuffs. She admired it for a moment before folding it up with the dress; it was easily the finest garment she had ever laid eyes on. The fabric was so finely woven she couldn’t even see the threads. She couldn’t even guess what it was actually made of. It would most likely be too hot, but she had never worn silk before, and the material seemed too thin for decency. She felt her blush rise again when she finally found the small clothes tucked neatly in the bottom of the trunk. They were silk as well, and definitely not the ones she had packed. If she thought the dress was scandalous, she was wrong. These were truly scandalous. She reassured herself with the thought that she would be the only one seeing them, hastily gathered up her bundle of chosen clothing, and made her way to the back of the ship.

  The door opened as she approached and she stepped through quickly and leaned back against it once it had closed. With a long sigh, she studied the room around her. It was neat and orderly, not at all what she had expected. The bed was made perfectly, without even so much as a wrinkle in the sheets, and there was not a mote of dust to be seen.

  A wall-sized mirror covered the opposite side of the room, and she caught a good look at herself. Her eyes squeezed shut, and she mentally pictured the tirade Gretchen would throw if she could see her now. Most of her hair had come loose from the braid and here and there were chicken feathers tangled in it. Her dress still bore remnants of the flour she had gotten on herself from hugging the cook at the Temple and her face had streaks of dust on it. She looked every inch the urchin as Gretchen had described her. From the neatness of his bedroom, she was amazed Christian had even let her on his ship.

  She crossed the room to the only door she could see, and moved inside. She wasn’t exactly sure on what a shower was, but from the way he had spoken it meant bath. Inside she found an indoor toilet such as the traveling priests had told her of, a small sink, and another smaller room with a glass door. No sign of a bathing tub. She carefully set the clothing down on the counter near the sink and pushed the glass door open to see inside the smaller room. A towel hung on the back wall of the room, and as she leaned farther in, her hand brushed against another panel which promptly lit up. Water abruptly began pouring from the ceiling of the room, and she let out a loud squeak as it soaked her head and chest. She squeezed her eyes shut and hoped he hadn’t heard her squeak in the front.

  “You can adjust the temperature on the panel,” she heard him faintly call back and felt her blush rise yet again. She was getting rather used to red rather than pale skin. With another sigh, she quickly stripped out of her clothing and stepped into the smaller room, closing the door behind her. Within moments of examining the small panel, she had sorted out how to adjust the temperature. She closed her eyes and turned her head up to let the water pour down over her face. She had so much to learn, and she doubted it would get any easier from here. At least she seemed to have found one friend, or so she hoped.

  She emerged from the back room in the purple dress and the long silver coat, barefoot. She hadn’t thought to dig in the chests for shoes, and her own rough boots looked so shabby, she hadn’t even thought to put them on. Her old clothes were bundled carefully in her arms, and she prayed Christian wouldn’t notice how soaked her dress was. She wasn’t sure how she could explain she hadn’t known what a shower was without sounding like an idiot. She carefully wrapped the old clothes in her cloak to keep most of the dampness from the delicate fabrics inside the trunk, and dug in the bottom of both chests until she found a pair of suitable shoes. There were sandals that looked too fragile to stand up to long-term use. Both had long leather strands dyed silver to lace up her legs.

  “Feel better?” Christian asked as she set the shoes on top of the trunk and moved back to the front seat. After the state he had seen her in before, surely he wouldn’t mind her going barefoot for a while. He eyed her clothing as she sat and gave her a nod of approval. “I liked the blue dress more, but you look good.”

  She turned to stare at him, raising an eyebrow in question. “You truly liked my dust-stained and faded blue dress better?” she asked, incredulous.

  He gave her a nod and a smile. “You looked more comfortable in it. And it had the look of wear on it. A favorite dress, I’m guessing. You seem more polished now to be sure, but less at ease. So, I prefer the one that doesn’t have you looking as though you are walking on glass,” he explained simply.

  She gave a weary smile and nodded. “I’ve never worn anything this fine. I’m not even sure if it’s appropriate; it seems too nice not to save for a special occasion.”

  He gave a light laugh and nodded. “It’s appropriate for admissions at the Academy, don’t worry about that. You might need a bit of jewelry, though. I don’t know many girls that don’t walk around covered in jewels. And shoes, those would be good as well.” He grinned at the last. “In truth, I don’t care much for the fancy clothing either, and I will have to get changed before we leave the ship. But for now, I’d rather be comfortable.” She returned his smile, and felt herself relaxing in his company. He didn’t seem at all like Fortune had predicted the High Lord’s children to be. Unless this was an incredible act, he was quite nice. And she couldn’t see why he would be pretending to be nice.

  “So, what Aspect is the Temple you are from dedicated to?” he asked, and she wasn’t sure if he was actually curious or just making small talk.

  “Fortune. There are altars for healing and love there, as well, but I follow Fortune.”
r />   He gave a rough snort of amusement and a quick nod. “Well, that certainly explains how we met. Your god must love you.”

  She gave him a questioning look. “What do you mean?”

  “It was a stroke of incredibly bad luck that landed me in Brannaford. On a normal day, I never would have considered landing there, but was forced to for repairs. In turn, it was amazingly good luck that you found a ship there at all. Most spell hawk pilots ignore Brannaford’s sky port. It just isn’t worth stopping for.”

  She nodded her understanding and gave him a slight grin. “How exactly is it that you ended up with part of a tree wrapped in the wing of your ship when you say you are the best pilot?” To her vast amusement it was his turn to blush. He cleared his throat and frowned at her.

  “That’s not exactly something I want to discuss. Perhaps I’ll explain later, but for now, let’s leave it at bad luck.” His blush deepened as she eyed him with growing curiosity. He gave a long sigh and pulled a silver case from his trousers. With a practiced flip, he opened the case and pulled a slender cigarette from it. He lit it with another flick of his finger and took a long drag from it. She shook her head at the blatant use of magic and chided herself gently. Between Fortune and Christian, she should be getting used to seeing magic worked so effortlessly. She would have to hide her shock of it better once she got to Sanctuary. She had a feeling she would see a lot more of it there. He exhaled slowly and gave her a roguish grin, “You know the fact that I landed with one wing disabled on a sky port as rough as Brannaford’s, should prove I’m the best pilot.”

  “I’m not even sure what a good sky port looks like, but I’ll take your word for that,” she replied with a smile.

  “Now since we have mutually decided to skip the embarrassing details of my arrival let me see your admission slip and we will figure out which circle of the Academy you will be in.”

  She grinned at his abrupt change in topic, and fished the slip from her coat pocket. It was still in its envelope. Father Belson had simply instructed her to deliver it to the Admissions hall at the Academy. They would explain everything from there. So she hadn’t even looked at it. “What do you mean, circle?” She asked as she handed it over to him.

  “There are five circles of the Academy,” he began as he tore the envelope open carefully. “The number of the circle determines the level of training you are to receive. The fifth circle is the easiest. That’s the least schooling usually only lasting about a year. Simple business training for menial jobs, such as minor accountants and such. Fourth is a bit more in depth but not much. It’s for scribes and small business owners. Third is more advanced: merchant sons, physicians...” His voice trailed off as he examined the slip carefully, seeming to reread it a time or two before he turned to look at her. His expression was not one she could easily read. “Second is for mages, half-blood lords, and such. It’s a much longer time and most outside of those areas don’t bother with it. The first circle is mostly just High Lord’s children. The study is far too intensive to be of use to most, so no one but the High Lords usually bothers with it.”

  She nodded at his explanation and motioned to the slip. “So which circle am I?” she asked, expecting perhaps fourth, but there was a chance it might be third. She pondered for a moment as to which circle she would prefer.

  “First,” he answered, watching her reaction. She looked at him in shock, and he nodded slowly. “I have a lot to teach you about the Bloodlines apparently. You are a kitten and whoever paid this Admission is tossing you in amongst the wolves.” He handed the slip back to her and gave her another considering look. “Each Bloodline has its own wing of the dormitory. It would never work if they pushed us all in together, we would kill each other off before we had a chance to learn anything. We are granted several rooms and our retainers or allies usually occupy those rooms. If you wish, you may stay in my wing. I’ll grant you what protection I can, but the choice is ultimately yours.”

  “Yes, thank you,” she replied almost before he had finished speaking. She smiled at his expression. “If Fortune went so far to have us meet, I will not ignore the offered chance. After the luck it required for us to meet, how could you expect a different answer?”

  With a sigh, she leaned back in her seat and tapped her knee lightly. She glanced at him momentarily before looking back toward the view screen. After the second glance, he gave another chuckle and raised an eyebrow at her. “What?” he asked with obvious amusement.

  “I want to ask another question, but I’m afraid of sounding like more of a twit than I have already,” she explained.

  “As far as I know, questions are the best way to learn, and I don’t think you are a twit. I think you have been very sheltered, but that’s not a bad thing, though. You will have an open mind and that’s something not many can claim. Most of us are raised in a rather biased fashion, and our opinions are formed from our parents’ opinions. So ask, and I will try to give the most neutral answer that I can, so my personal views don’t cloud your judgment.”

  She hesitated for another moment and then sighed. “You said Bloodlines. Is that another word for the High Houses or is that different?”

  He shook his head at her lightly. “Now see that is not a stupid question at all, that’s a rather important detail. All High Houses are of an Immortal Bloodline, but not all Immortal Bloodlines have High Houses. Some choose to remain neutral and leave leadership to others. Some individuals choose their own path away from their families and become mercenaries or Aspects. It really is a confusing mess, if you are coming into it blindly. I can look at most and tell from their appearance what Bloodline they are. You will have a much more difficult time.”

  “So if I need to know something I will pester you with questions.” She grinned at him.

  He gave her a nod another smile. “Well there it is then, though I don’t consider questions pestering. Now, lean back and relax, and I will bore you to death with the rules of the Academy. They are good to know but tedious to learn.” She leaned back with a smile and nodded for him to begin. She was content with the sound of his voice and the view of the world passing beneath her on the view screen. This was definitely better than any other ship she could have booked passage on.

  Chapter 6

  Sanctuary

  “Are we going to announce ourselves to the underworld here?” Isador asked. Her eyes were fixed on their surroundings rather than him, Charm noted with approval. It was always a pleasure to work with a professional and Isador was just that. Her light brown hair was braided tightly and bound into a bun on the back of her head, keeping it tidily out of the way should she need to move quickly. Her clothing was purely functional dark linens and silks, with plenty of pockets. She wore a form fitting jacket rather than a cloak. Soft leather gloves and boots completed the ensemble. At her side hung a veritable armory of daggers, dirks, throwing knives, and even a whip. She looked relaxed as if she were lounging in a park rather than standing in a pitch black trash-covered alley in the worst part of the city. She wasn’t in much danger, though, he supposed. It would take a fool to pick a fight with anyone armed as heavily as she was, but then the world was filled with fools.

  His gaze flicked down the alley at a noise, and his hand dropped to a dagger on instinct. With disgust, he watched a plump rat shoulder through the trash in search of food. He kept his senses alert for the next few moments, noting from the corner of his eye that Isador was doing the same with her slim gloved hand resting on a dagger, as well. When no further noise or movement came he looked back to her. “I don’t think so. Hemlock rules the shadows here, and I’d sooner slit my own throat than ask his permission for anything,” he said answering her question at last. He knew Hemlock from beyond the barrier. The man was ruthless and cruel and not at all sane. The less he saw of the man, the happier he would be.

  “You know I typically do spy work. I’m afraid I don’t have much practice as a guardian,” she said, apparently satisfied with his answer.

&nb
sp; “Normally, I’m lifting particular items or shutting certain mouths. I can’t say that I’ve ever guarded anything other than myself in my life,” Charm replied with a smile. “It’s a girl, though, and an unknown one. How hard can it be?”

  “A sheltered innocent, most likely sweet and beautiful girl, dropped in the middle of the largest city in the world, among the young spoiled and jaded youth of all of the High Houses…” She paused, looking toward the glow in the center of the city. “During the Spring Games, the most popular festival in the world that is known to triple the population of the city for several weeks.”

  “You see, it will be much easier than what they usually ask us to do; practically a vacation,” Charm said with a grin.

  She gave a light laugh and returned the smile. “So, where do you want to start?” She asked.

  “First, we set ourselves up at the Academy. It shouldn’t be hard due to that place being a labyrinth. We should be able to find a safe spot quickly.” He moved slowly out of the alley they stood in, taking care to stick to the shadows. Both of them were professionals and being spotted or heard shouldn’t be an issue unless one of the NightBlades happened to be in the area. The NightBlades were the ruling force of Sanctuary’s underworld. Typically, they were every bit as professional as the two of them, but it was doubtful they would be here. This part of the city had once belonged to Merro and was now in such ruin there was no profit to be had. The few citizens that remained were too poor for anyone to think of stealing from them, and anyone worth an Assassin’s contract had long ago been killed. “Once we have ourselves set up, we work out shifts. Neither of us needs much sleep, so we will work in rotation. I want to do more than just watch the girl. I’d like to keep an eye on others, as well. Anything we can gather of importance will help. We will keep the girl as our main priority, of course, but for the two of us that is a task too simple. I myself will grow bored quickly if all I have for entertainment is babysitting.”

 

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