"Go to bed, son, this looks good enough." Corent had a hand on the shoulder that Nissa had just rubbed. Power passed from his hand, too, and Nissa's shoulder felt better.
"Thank you." Nissa ducked her head and walked toward the narrow hallway that led to her bedroom.
* * *
"What is Belen doing here?" Tory whispered to Ry as he pulled his brother toward his side of their shared suite. Neither of them could properly describe Belen or name what he was. Belen was an enigma.
"He asked to meet with Mom and the others—the Inner Circle," Ry whispered back. That's why Ry had come to see Tory after they were both supposed to be in bed. Ry had gone on a secret raid of the kitchen and had caught sight of Belen walking through the halls with his mother. Belen sometimes had a light around him and Ry couldn't explain that.
"Do you think he knows anything about Sissy?" Tory asked.
No word had come to them for two days regarding their sister, and Grey House was still doing an investigation. At least that's what Uncle Shadow said. He'd come in earlier that day, and Ry's father had pulled the boys out of the dining hall as Shadow dropped to his knees in front of their mother and laid his head in her lap. Ry thought he heard a sob as Erland hauled them toward the kitchen to finish their meals there. Whether it was their mother or Uncle Shadow who wept, Ry couldn't say for sure.
"Do you think Belen might be looking for her, too?" Ry hoped that was the case. He felt power whenever Belen was around—power with a capital P.
"Now is when we need invisibility," Tory muttered. "We could hide in a corner of the library and listen in."
"Like Mom wouldn't know," Ry did a little muttering of his own. "Dad swears she can see through walls, sometimes."
"And sniff out anything from a mile away," Tory agreed. "Of course we don't know what effect being pregnant is going to have on all that."
"You're pregnant?" Ry grinned and poked at his brother.
"I've got a headlock right here, bubba." Tory went after Ry.
"Hey, did you see the vids earlier on Cloudsong?" Ry and Tory were both flat on their backs on Tory's bed—they'd pummeled each other for minutes before tiring.
"Yeah. It's worse than we thought. Those kids are starving." Tory sat up and lifted a pillow off the floor—he and Ry had knocked everything off his bed while they wrestled.
"I know it might not be a good thing to bring up with Mom—Cloudsong, you know, but those kids." Ry didn't finish his statement. He'd seen the thin, emaciated bodies that the documentary crew had recorded.
"Yeah, but she's always done things for kids," Tory nodded. "Maybe we can get her interested in this."
"It won't bring Sissy back." Ry rubbed his eyes. He was scared witless, if he were honest with himself. Nobody had come forward demanding a ransom or anything. "Why would somebody break through the Grey House barriers, just to take Sissy? There are multiple fortunes in spelled jewelry, weapons and artwork. If they wanted money, all they'd have to take was a little of that."
"I know. I heard Uncle Tony and Uncle Rigo say the same thing earlier." Tory slumped on the bed. "What are we going to do, Ry? We have to get Sissy back. Next week is her birthday."
* * *
"Be sure you get the corners." Toff wondered what Narissa had done before she'd acquired him as her personal slave. He had no idea what to do to get away from her—she watched him every waking moment. He was wearing some of her old clothing, too—old tops and pants that hung loosely about his small frame. He was using a ragged cloth to clean the corners of the floor while he wondered what she'd set him to doing next.
"Tomorrow is food day—we'll pick it up at the western boundary," Narissa was smiling. "You can handle the wheelbarrow, I think." Toff looked up at her briefly—she sat at the tiny kitchen table sipping tea. She hadn't offered him any, he noticed.
"The western boundary?" he asked casually. Toff didn't want to express too much interest in case Narissa decided to withhold the information. He'd made the mistake earlier of asking her why she was alone inside the boundary. She'd cursed and then ordered him to clean the corners of the stone floor in the kitchen. The stones were fitted tightly against one another—whoever laid them had been a master at building. They were sealed and watertight, too. Toff discovered that when he'd mopped the floor before starting on the corners.
"The one between me and the comesuli farms, of course. You think those Fae would share anything without payment?" Narissa hmmphed again. Toff was beginning to dislike that sound intensely.
"What about those others—what did you call them—to the east?"
"Elemaiya. They don't share either, as a rule. They'll talk if I find one of them down on that side, but they don't often come in this direction. They stay farther south; it's warmer there."
"I've never heard of that race—what do they look like?" Toff asked.
"Just like most other humanoids. They used to have power." Narissa sniffed at the admission.
"What happened?"
"The Queen of Le-Ath Veronis happened. No more questions." Narissa got up and walked out of the kitchen, leaving Toff alone with his questions and his task.
* * *
"We're going to have to use power." Gren's statement made Laral and Clover cringe. Who knew what kind of trouble they might be in if their parents learned of this? Laral and Clover had very little power, though they were Halves, just as Gren was. Gren had increased his power lately and his two disciples were at a loss to explain it.
"But what are we going to do?" Laral felt helpless—he'd thought that cozying up with Gren would allow him access to Tiearan and better lessons. It didn't. Tiearan would take Gren and two of the older ones and teach them apart from the others. Rain would take the ones with lesser ability and work with them during their lessons. Neither Laral nor Clover had ever gotten to work with the sun crystal and that was Laral's chief desire. Now he found himself trapped in Gren's plot to do away with the baby-faced worm.
Yes, they all called him that; even Laral's parents, for some reason. Toff was generally despised across the village and Laral had no idea why. None of the adults spoke about it and Gren refused to explain why he thought Toff should die.
"We lost the knives—that's why we have to use power. I'll try to sneak away with some sun crystal—we can use that to focus," Gren replied. "We can use the nut breaking chant, only we aim it at his head instead of the thick-shelled nuts that Father Oak grows."
"But his head will explode." Even Clover wanted to back away from this idea. "This is what we're going to do, and you'll help or I'll tell the entire village that it was you who tried to jump him with Barthe's missing knives. You know Tiearan wanted to know where they went, don't you?" Gren gave both boys a threatening look. Laral swallowed hard. Theft would get them banished outside the barrier. Theft and attempted violence would see their power removed and they would still be banished. It wasn't an attractive prospect. Clover and Laral paid attention while Gren outlined his plan.
Chapter 7
"These are not our ceremonial daggers." The Prime Minister for the newly crowned King of Invardine bade his two escorts dump two large boxes on the reception desk. The Second-Tier Wizard who manned the desk in the antechamber of Grey House's sales office stared at the Invardinian Prime Minister in shock.
"But those were never out of our possession until you came to take them four days ago," the Second-Tier Wizard blustered. "We cannot be responsible for anything that has been outside our control for several days."
"These are the daggers we were given, and they are new. These have been checked carefully—the jewels are the same but the metal is not ancient. We have had our experts examine them carefully. The ancient method used to create the metal for these ceremonial daggers was not as sophisticated as it is now and there were impurities in the steel that are no longer present. I suggest you get someone here who can explain what has happened to our original daggers. I am at a loss as to why you would keep the old knives yet return the jewels—the kni
ves have no value except to us—as heirlooms of our kingdom." The Prime Minister had white hair, piercing green eyes and wrinkles everywhere—he was ancient but determined.
"Let me see who I can find to speak with you," the Second-Tier Wizard muttered and sent out mindspeech. Calebert and Glendes both appeared moments later.
"What is this?" Calebert lifted one of the daggers from the box. "These are what we sent back—I detect the residual power around them. Are all the daggers like this?" He looked across the tall desk at the ancient Prime Minister.
"No, two were as they should be. All the others have been replaced with new blades."
"Let me take a look." Glendes reached out for the blade Calebert held in his hand. His eyes unfocused for several moments while the Prime Minister waited impatiently.
"Calebert, did you do anything other than a visual inspection on these when Nissa finished with them?" One of Glendes' dark eyebrows was raised quite high.
"No, Eldest. She was so far behind that the visual was all I had time to do. What have you found?" Calebert was beginning to worry.
"What did you tell Nissa to do, exactly, when you handed this assignment to her?"
"I told her that I wanted them like new," Calebert had to go back in his mind to the day he'd handed out the assignment.
"And that's exactly what you got—like new daggers. All of these have been altered at a molecular level. They are new, Master Wizard Calebert. My great-granddaughter achieved something that some of the First-Tiers might have problems with. Take these back and rework them. Surely you remember the time in which they were made?" Glendes handed the dagger back to Calebert and folded away.
"What did he just say?" The Prime Minister was attempting to sort it all out, and still failing to understand.
"That the one who was given this assignment took the assignment too literally," Calebert grumbled. "Do not fear; you will have your daggers back in their original condition, minus the rust, of course. They'll be ready in two weeks. I trust you won't need them until then?"
"No, just as long as we get them back. With a partial refund for the trouble."
"I'll see to it," Calebert nodded to the Prime Minister before he and the boxes of daggers disappeared.
* * *
"She did what?" Shadow didn't understand. Glendes was having trouble with it as well. Nissa was stronger than any of them realized. Already at the level of a First-Tier? Unheard of. And the fact that there had only been a handful of female First-Tiers over the years hadn't gone past them, either.
"We've never had a female Master Wizard," Glendes sighed. "And if we don't find her, we may not have one still. What is the latest on the search?"
"Nothing, Grampa." Shadow sat heavily in one of the chairs before Glendes' desk. "The Larentii are tighter than clams, saying they can't interfere, Belen came to Le-Ath Veronis two days ago and spoke to Lissa and Thurlow but I don't know what that involved, and everyone else is out looking, including the Karathian and some of Wylend's handpicked warlocks. So far, they haven't found anything." Neither one was saying what had gone through their minds repeatedly the past few days—that their last words to Nissa hadn't been kind ones.
* * *
"They'll be along shortly." Narissa settled herself on the dry, brown grass next to a sliding wooden platform. It sat half in and half out of the boundary.
"What is this for?" Toff pushed the wheeled platform with a hand—it slid forward easily.
"They place the food on that side and slide it toward me. That's how I get my supplies. They can't enter here," Narissa sniffed angrily at that bit of information. "I'm sure they'll be quite surprised when they find you here with me." Narissa unsuccessfully attempted to hide a smile.
"Will I be in trouble?" Toff worried about that. Would he be found out and sent back to Corent and Redbird, only to be bullied and threatened by Gren and his followers again?
"Oh, I don't think so," Narissa didn't try to hide her smile this time. "See, there they come."
Toff squinted in the direction Narissa pointed and saw a cart with two people on board in the distance. He stared—there was no horse or ox pulling the cart; it was moving on its own. "Not seen one of those before?" Narissa laughed and the laugh didn't sound kind. Toff whirled to look at her.
"How did this one come to be inside your boundary, Narissa?" One of their visitors spoke. Toff forcibly shut his mouth—these two looked familiar to him, but he couldn't say exactly how. One was only a few inches taller than Toff, with black hair like Toff's. The other was slightly taller, with dark-brown hair. Both had slight builds, but hefted the boxes of food and provisions easily onto the platform.
"You know as much as I," Narissa retorted. "Please inform the palace that I will be willing to negotiate a trade."
Toff reached out to lift the first of two boxes when he set it down again with a thump on the wooden planks. "What?" His voice was sharper than he intended.
"You don't think I was just going to put up with you forever, do you?" Narissa's voice was gleeful. "I think I can negotiate a little to trade you back to the Queen, you know. Don't look so shocked, young one. This boundary wasn't set because I wanted it. This is my prison and I intend to use you to make it more comfortable, if not gain my freedom back. Now—you'll do what I say, just like you have been, and you won't be harmed."
She was threatening him? Toff backed up in alarm. Narissa was no different from Gren and the others—he'd just been too blind to see through her intentions.
"Don't worry, young one. We'll have you out of there before you know it," the dark-haired visitor declared, climbing back onto the cart with his companion. "If she lays a hand on you, the Queen may kill her herself." The cart backed away and turned to drive off in the opposite direction quite fast indeed, leaving Toff facing Narissa.
"You—you're no different from the others," Toff snarled sullenly. He was weary of being bullied, used and constantly threatened.
"This is the way life is—get used to it," Narissa snarled right back. "Do you think I plan to live the rest of my life inside a shielded boundary, with nobody to talk to who has any sense at all? Do you? Load those boxes in the wheelbarrow and come along. It's nearly time for dinner." Narissa took off toward her cottage. Toff watched her walk away for a while before piling boxes in the wheelbarrow and following Narissa in resignation.
* * *
"Tory," Ry whispered as he jerked his head at the comesula guard who bowed as he walked into the dining hall. At a nod from Lissa, the comesula approached her place at the table.
"Veris, I haven't seen you in a while," Queen Lissa stopped him from kneeling at the side of her chair.
"My Queen, I bring urgent news," Veris couldn't keep himself from bowing again as he spoke.
"What is it?" Lissa asked, lines of worry appearing on her forehead.
Drake and Drew, who sat on either side of the Queen, also seemed interested.
"Somehow, a young one has gotten inside Narissa's boundary and she is offering to bargain for him. We know not how he made his way inside, only that he is there and quite shaken, it seems. Narissa is forcing him to fetch and carry for her, if my reports are accurate."
The Queen stood abruptly at Veris' words, and Drake and Drew were standing with her, with one other of her Inner Circle mates. Most were out looking for Nissa, however, so it was only Drake, Drew and Rigo to go with the Queen. "Mom," Tory shouted, just as Lissa was about to fold away with help from her two Falchani.
"You want to come?" Tory and Ry's mother looked as if she were about to take something—or someone—apart.
"Yes," Ry answered the question first. They were all folded away.
"Lissa, remember your pregnancy," Rigo cautioned as Lissa strode quickly toward Narissa's cottage. They'd folded directly inside Narissa's boundary—It couldn't hold the Queen or the Falchani back—they were too powerful.
"Narissa!" Lissa shouted. "Come out now before I turn your house into matchsticks!"
* * *
/> Toff jerked at the shout—it sounded very close. He'd been sitting at the table, having dinner with Narissa after cooking most of it for her.
"Well," Narissa wore a nasty smile, "that didn't take long, did it? Come on, boy." Narissa jerked Toff from his chair, had a knife held to his throat quickly and hauled him toward the door.
Toff was terrified—the protection jewel had turned black after it thwarted the attack from Gren and the others. Toff figured it was made to work once, but he couldn't bear to part with it—it was all he had of Nissa, though she most likely would never speak to him again after he'd run away like that. Now, someone he barely knew was threatening his life again. Narissa pushed the front door to her cottage open and forced Toff out in front of her, the knife still at his throat. Toff, terrified as he was, still was surprised by the people who stood outside, waiting.
* * *
Ry dug an elbow into Tory's ribs to keep him from calling out to Toff. Both boys recognized him, all right, and Ry was quickly piecing together just how Toff might have come to be inside Narissa's boundary.
"Narissa, harm that child and I'll kill you." Those were the Queen's words, and Tory and Ry both knew their mother wouldn't bluff about something like that.
"What are you going to do, Lissa?" Narissa sounded unhinged in Ry's estimation. Toff must have realized it too—his eyes were wild with fright as Narissa tightened her grip on him, bringing the knife just under his chin.
"Surely you know as well as anyone just what I might do," Lissa snarled. Drake and Drew flanked her, which meant that Narissa's eyes were on the Queen and the twin Falchani instead of Rigo. Narissa should have watched him, but Ry imagined this may have been the plan all along. Rigo could move as swiftly as any vampire and he was behind Narissa, had the knife in his hand and Narissa flung to the ground in the space of a heartbeat. Toff was left standing and holding his throat, which had the barest of bloody scrapes on it.
Blood Reunion Page 10
