1 State of Grace

by John Phythyon

  But he felt the love she gave him, knew she felt as he did. He regretted never having told her before.

  She withdrew, looked into his eyes, and managed a slight smile. Then she started coughing and gagging for air. She clutched his tunic desperately, but he could not help. It was over in about a minute. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and she was gone.

  Boris clutched her to his chest and bawled. He only allowed himself to do so for twenty seconds. Then he composed himself. He needed to get out of here. He swore, though, he would make Yevgeni Tupelov pay for this. If he had to use every Shadow in Phrygia to bring the man to justice he would. Svetlana was not going to die in vain, and Phrygia was not going to suffer for this madman’s schemes.

  Chapter 32: The Hand of Destiny

  (Three Hours, Twelve Minutes before Revelation Day)

  Alexei Petrovic sipped the last of his tea at the outdoor café in the heart of Al-Adan with his comrades. Most of them were drinking freschina and complaining that it wasn’t vodka. They were fools. He supposed it was true that being in a foreign country made one wish for the comforts of home, but the rest of his unit did nothing to embrace the culture of their present assignment. Elves didn’t know a damned thing about vodka, but that didn’t mean they didn’t understand how to make alcohol. The freschina was light and fresh – more like wine than vodka, and, in the heat of this miserable, decaying country, it was a damned sight better than the bite of the Phrygians’ native drink.

  He preferred the tea himself. It had more flavors than he could name or even recognize, but it soothed. Somehow, despite its hot temperature, it didn’t make him sweat, even in the late afternoon sun. But it warmed his throat and sent pleasant sensations all through him. He wondered, not for the first time, if the elves used it as an aphrodisiac. It certainly made him feel relaxed and happy. If he returned to Phrygia, he must take some of it with him. It would be just the thing for cold, winter nights, especially if there was a woman to spend them with. It would be interesting to see if it had the sexual side effects he suspected.

  Presently, Ivan threw back the last of his drink and slammed it to the table. The others cheered.

  “Another!” he cried.

  “No,” Alexei said. He didn’t speak loudly, but everyone turned to listen to him. “We have a mission tonight. Any more liquor and you will be too drunk to execute it.”

  The others moaned but complied. They were good soldiers all of them. General Tupelov wouldn’t have chosen them otherwise. They might be boorish in their approach to elfin spirits, but they knew when it was time to have fun and when it was time to be serious.

  “We should get going,” Alexei said.

  “Da, Comrade Captain,” Ivan said.

  He motioned for the others to stand. Everyone got up and threw money on the table. When they were satisfied they had enough to cover the tab and the tip, they moved off, seemingly as a unit. They had just left the café, when an elfin soldier practically plowed into them.

  “Watch where you are going!” Ivan scolded.

  The soldier pulled back and assessed them. Alexei felt his heart skip a beat. Her green uniform with the gold leaves woven into the shoulders could mean only one thing: this woman, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, was an officer in the Elite Guard.

  “Ivan,” Alexei shouted. “Mind your manners! We are guests here.” He came forward and spoke to the woman.

  “My apologies,” he said. “My friends have had a little too much to drink. They were clumsy.”

  “Apology accepted,” she said, giving him a curious stare. She looked him over. “It was I who was clumsy.”

  So saying, she moved off quickly. Alexei watched her go. Had she suspected something? He supposed it didn’t matter. In a few hours’ time, everything would be different in Al-Adan, in Phrygia, and in the world.

  ***

  Kenderbrick rubbed her chin thoughtfully as Wolf relayed to her what he’d learned at Hammerdown. A worried look crossed her face.

  “Well,” she said, “that confirms everything I’ve observed about Silverleaf being a folk hero.”

  “Folk hero?” Wolf said. “He sounds more like some sort of messiah to me.”

  “Good point,” she said. “If his return is seen as messianic, and I’ve no reason to believe it isn’t, it would explain why his word carries the weight it does in the negotiations.”

  “And why President Spellbinder was so eager to have him in her coalition,” Wolf added.

  Kenderbrick nodded.

  “What else did you learn?” she said.

  “The most disturbing part was what Nightshade told me about the torture he endured,” Wolf said.

  “Yes, from what I understand the Jifanis were right bastards to the prisoners they took.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” Wolf said. “It’s not the torture that they conducted, although it was horrific. It’s what they specifically did to Silverleaf.”

  Just then, one of Kenderbrick’s duty officers poked his head into the makeshift conference room. Wolf thought his name might be Henderson.

  “Excuse me, ma’am,” he said. “Captain Honeyflower is here.”

  “Ah, good,” Wolf said. “Send her in.”

  “Yes, Shadow Six,” the man-Wolf-thought-might-be-Henderson said.

  Kenderbrick glared at him as if to say, “You’re not in charge here; I am,” but she didn’t say anything to him. She just waited. A moment later, Honeyflower appeared looking harried.

  “Please forgive me for being so late,” she said. “I ran into trouble.”

  “What sort of trouble,” Wolf asked, motioning her to sit in a chair next to him.

  “I have alarming news,” she said, sitting. “After we parted, I went to spy on Silverleaf as you instructed, Wolf. However, I spotted Ravager leaving the palace. On instinct, I followed him. He met with Starfellow.”

  “Mustique Starfellow?” Kenderbrick said, her eyes growing wide. “The alleged head of the Sons of Frey?”

  “Yes,” Honeyflower said. “I was able to overhear only a little of the discussion, but Ravager said something about passes to the temple and a new regime with Shendali principles being in charge tomorrow.”

  Wolf felt his heart begin to race. Silverleaf’s plan was at hand.

  No one said anything for a moment. Wolf considered the possibilities. If the Sons of Frey were involved, it seemed possible there would be a suicide bombing and that a lot of people would die. Would it be a lot of Urlanders? Was Silverleaf hoping to get Urland to leave by hitting their security forces hard? Something didn’t fit there.

  “There’s something else,” Honeyflower said. “I was discovered. Ravager pursued me. He attempted to kill me, but he missed and took an innocent instead. I was disguised, and this unfortunate woman was dressed like me. Ravager believes he took care of the problem, but he knows someone was spying on him.”

  “Are you certain he thinks you’re dead,” Kenderbrick asked.

  “Yes,” Honeyflower replied. “He spent time inspecting the body and left satisfied. But he knows someone was watching him.”

  “Which could move up Silverleaf’s timetable,” Wolf said.

  “Or cause him to abandon his mission,” Kenderbrick commented.

  “I don’t think so,” Wolf said. “Whatever he’s up to, he’s hell-bent on completing it.”

  There was another pause as everyone considered the possibilities. Wolf ran his hands through his hair.

  “What did you learn from Hosni Nightshade?” Honeyflower said.

  “Quite a bit,” Wolf answered. He told Honeyflower what he’d already told Kenderbrick about Silverleaf’s anti-Jifani positions, his role as a recruiter, and his messianic status among his close friends and followers. None of this was news to Honeyflower.

  “He is quite the cult figure to some,” she said, “particularly those who are bitter about the truce. There is a small minority of people who think we should go to war with Jifan – take back the land they stol
e. Some believe the only way to heal the damage the land suffers is to reunite the two countries under one, more moderate rule.”

  “Is there any support for that in the government,” Wolf asked.

  “No,” Kenderbrick and Honeyflower said in unison.

  “But sectarian violence is not limited to Shendalis attacking Freyalans,” Kenderbrick said. “There is anti-Shendali violence too, although it occurs on a lesser scale.”

  “But these people are the ones behind it,” Honeyflower added. “And many of them see Silverleaf as a folk hero.”

  “Has he ever endorsed them?” Wolf said.

  “No,” Kenderbrick said.

  “At least not on the surface,” Honeyflower said. “Silverleaf abhors sectarian violence. He consistently speaks out against elf-on-elf attacks on both sides of the struggle.”

  “Hmm,” Wolf said. “I’d like to believe he’s sincere, but his man Ravager is consorting with the Sons of Frey, and I have every reason to believe they are taking direct orders from him.”

  “Keep in mind, that could be a smokescreen,” Kenderbrick said. “It’s possible he encourages sectarian violence to keep the heat on the coalition government, while at the same time keeping them hamstrung on key negotiations.”

  Wolf thought there was something to that theory. Silverleaf was a pot-stirrer. He played both ends against the middle, and it was entirely conceivable he was using the Sons of Frey as a distraction.

  “Shadow Six, you were going to tell me something about how Silverleaf was tortured,” Kenderbrick said.

  “Oh, yes!” Wolf said.

  He’d gotten distracted by Honeyflower’s arrival. He tried to tell himself it was the information she brought. He didn’t want to believe it was her beauty. Even in her current state – disheveled from her flight from Ravager and worried about the future of her country – she was enrapturing. Wolf found it more difficult to think when he looked at her more than with any other elf he’d met. Even Silverleaf, whose beauty was frightening, didn’t disarm him the same way. The memory of their kiss rose up in his mind and stirred passion in his loins. With an effort, he forced those thoughts out of his head.

  “Apparently, the Jifanis liked to cut off the left hand of their prisoners. Anyone who spoke out against their government was deemed an agent of The Devil who was leading the people astray. So they cut off his hand as a symbolic gesture of preventing him from further guiding elves away from God. Silverleaf was one of the prisoners who suffered this punishment.”

  “But that’s impossible,” Honeyflower said. “Ambassador Silverleaf has two hands. He has for as long as I’ve known him.”

  “Right,” Wolf said. “That’s why he rounded up his closest friends and had them executed: because they know the truth. They know he should only have one hand.”

  “But how is this possible?” Honeyflower said.

  “I might have the answer to that,” Kenderbrick interjected. “I’ve got information on the document you stole from Silverleaf’s villa, Shadow Six.”

  “The Hand of Destiny?” Wolf said.

  “Yes. Apparently, it belonged to the ancient conqueror, Xerxes the Dread. He was not only an accomplished warrior; he was also skilled at black magic. He led mixed armies of people and monsters. A favorite tactic was to raise an army of zombies and use them as his frontline troops. He would terrorize and wear down his opponents as they tried to destroy the zombies. Then his living units would move in and mop up the exhausted survivors. He conquered a third of the ancient world before he was stopped.

  “Xerxes wasn’t interested in leaving a legacy only on this world, though. He wanted to conquer forever. He tracked down a spell that alleged he could imbue his spirit into one part of his body, and it would live on forever. So he cast it on his left hand and cut it off. He believed the hand could be grafted onto another person, and he could possess the body.

  “It didn’t quite work that way. Xerxes died with the rest of his body when he was slain by Eremund the Gallant. However, the hand did retain certain magical properties. According to my research, the hand can indeed be grafted onto living flesh via a magical spell. But rather than bringing Xerxes and his powers to life again, it simply imbues the recipient with the ability to summon anything that will fit in the Hand.”

  “That’s how he was doing it!” Wolf exclaimed.

  “Doing what?” Honeyflower asked.

  “When I first met Silverleaf, he was cheating at Conquest,” Wolf explained. “He was able to draw exactly the card he needed whenever he needed to. I knew he was using magic to cheat, but I couldn’t tell how. He must have used the Hand of Destiny to summon the card he needed to the top of the deck.”

  “He cheats at cards?” Honeyflower said.

  “Yes,” Wolf confirmed. “He liked to go to the Dubonney Club and fleece Urlish nobles. It was one of his methods of getting revenge on Urland.”

  “For what?” Honeyflower said.

  “Not taking a side during the Elfin Civil War,” Wolf answered. “According to Nightshade, Silverleaf thinks if Urland had supported Alfar during the civil war, Jifan wouldn’t exist today.”

  “He probably has a point,” Honeyflower said after a pause. Then she looked alarmed. “Oh, forgive me. That was rude.”

  “No offense taken,” Wolf said. Kenderbrick rolled her eyes.

  “I’m afraid the Hand of Destiny has other side effects too,” she said. “Xerxes’s spirit may not be in it, but it turns the mind of its user to thoughts of conquest. And those thoughts are usually dark.”

  “I’ve never known thoughts of conquest to be anything but,” Wolf commented.

  No one said anything for a moment. Wolf thought about everything he learned today. A pattern was emerging. He just needed to sort it all out.

  “All right,” he said. “Let’s think about this. I think it’s fair to assume Silverleaf has found the Hand of Destiny and used it to replace the hand the Jifanis cut off.

  “Given that he is under the influence of the Hand of Destiny, it is also safe to assume whatever plan he’s making involves conquest.”

  “Which is even more likely considering the messianic view some elves have of him,” Kenderbrick added.

  “Right,” Wolf said. “Furthermore, we know he wants Urland out of Alfar. Most likely this is due to his hatred of all things Urlish due to our unwillingness to back the Alfaris against Jifan until our interests were directly threatened.”

  “But his sabotage of the negotiations indicates he will only accept an Urlish withdrawal on his terms,” Honeyflower said.

  “Also right,” Wolf said. “I think it is further likely he does not just want us out of Alfar. I think he’ll want to see us humiliated. I think that fits with his hatred of Urlanders. If he is petty enough to steal money from us by cheating at cards, he won’t be satisfied with just kicking us out. He’ll want it to really hurt.

  “I believe Ravager is Tupelov’s agent in Al-Adan. Ravager might be doing Silverleaf’s bidding, but I think Tupelov is his real master. Given that Ravager is meeting with Starfellow and plotting some sort of suicide attack, it stands to reason the Phrygians are trying to destabilize the situation here to hurt Urlish interests.”

  “Hmm,” Honeyflower said.

  “What?” Kenderbrick said.

  “I ran into a group of humans on my way here,” she answered. “They looked like soldiers, and they spoke Urlish. But I am pretty certain they had Phrygian accents.”

  Wolf and Kenderbrick both looked alarmed. They exchanged a glance.

  “Has the Elite Guard observed a lot of activity with Phrygians in Al-Adan,” Wolf asked.

  “No,” Honeyflower said. “But, to be honest, we haven’t really been looking. We’ve been pretty focused on tracking down insurgents and maintaining security. We haven’t really been looking for human infiltrators.”

  “What about us,” Wolf asked, turning his attention to Kenderbrick.

  “We haven’t been looking either,” she confessed
. “We’ve been pretty focused on supporting the Alfaris and the Urlish military with intel.”

  “So it’s possible the Phrygians have agents on the ground here in addition to Ravager,” Wolf posited.

  “I think we have to assume that’s a yes,” Kenderbrick said.

  “Okay, then I think it’s certain the Phrygians are part of Silverleaf’s plan,” Wolf concluded. “They have completely different agendas and objectives, but this is some sort of joint operation. That would also seem to support Nightshade’s opinion that Silverleaf is a traitor.

  “The question is – the part I still haven’t figured out – is what does Silverleaf get out of all this? I can see and understand nearly everything he is doing, but I don’t know what it adds up to. What’s his endgame?”

  No one had an answer to that question. They looked from person to person, hoping to see the answer in someone else’s eyes. Wolf found it hard to think every time he looked at Honeyflower. Memories of their kiss crowded his mind.

  “Well,” Kenderbrick said at last, “Silverleaf is Shendali. Is it possible he’s working with the Jifanis?”

  “I don’t think so,” Honeyflower said. “He never forgave the Jifanis for torturing him.”

  “But if the Hand of Destiny is corrupting him,” Kenderbrick suggested.

  “I think he would try to conquer Jifan instead of allying with them, don’t you?” Wolf said.

  Both women nodded at that suggestion. Something about what Kenderbrick said struck a chord with him, though.

  “I do think he’ll try to conquer something,” Wolf said. “The Hand is supposed to turn one’s thoughts to conquest, so it’s a fair bet that’s what’s behind his plans.”

  “Perhaps he wants to rule Alfar,” Kenderbrick said. “He has a messiah complex, and he has spent months keeping the government and the Urlanders at an impasse. He has to be doing that for the purpose of destabilizing the situation in his favor.”

  “That makes sense,” Wolf said. “But how does working with the Phrygians and the Sons of Frey accomplish that?”

  “Perhaps he plans to use them to assassinate the president,” Kenderbrick said.