"I have a sound shield set up," Bel said. "We can talk without anyone listening."
"Quin, if you detect anything about Cayetes in anyone in this household, send mindspeech immediately," Sal said. "It's in our best interest to find him, as you know."
I understood that—Cayetes was my priority as well, but I couldn't help thinking that other, more pressing matters had taken precedence. I also couldn't explain it—not to anyone—in a reasonable way. Terrett might understand, but I wasn't sure about the others.
The drug we'd discovered at the sweet shop troubled my mind just as much as the disappearances, and the fact we weren't searching other cities concerned me greatly. I wasn't in charge, however, and wasn't likely to be. I studied Salidar DeLuca as he outlined a plan in case we discovered Cayetes' whereabouts. I also wondered how (and when) he'd taken charge of this operation.
Caylon's presence, too, felt just the same—that he was Sal's superior in this and his word could be the final one on any decisions made.
Kooper Griff, Bel Erland's voice drifted into my head. He made these decisions. Nobody here has enough field experience to take charge.
How did you know? I returned. He'd read my thoughts, somehow.
I could see you, shifting your gaze from Sal to Caylon, he replied. I've spent too much time reading Dad's subjects in court. I know what those glances and puzzled expressions mean.
Then you are an adept, I responded. Nobody else has a clue.
I saw his smile—a genuine one—for the first time since we'd arrived on Vic'Law. It was worth the wait; he bore a strong resemblance to his grandfather, Erland. Perhaps, I thought to myself, I'd have another ally, should I make my request to hunt elsewhere.
Just ask, Lady, he nodded slightly. I am at your service.
* * *
"Your reading lessons will be in Quin's suite; this is where you will learn from Sursee Salidar," Caylon led Jayna through our temporary dojo. Already, wooden practice blades and weights hung on a wall, while the floor was covered with the inevitable canvas mat.
I'd already seen the room earlier; Jayna, who'd been settling into her shared room with Mell, had just gotten free to visit with me. Caylon found both of us and now led the tour through our training room.
"I'm afraid," she whispered when Caylon stopped for a moment.
"Don't be. It is our decision whether we will train our servants or not," Caylon said softly. "Come to me or Salidar if anyone troubles you about it."
"Yes, Sursee Caylon." She dropped her eyes.
"Sursee Caylon, I'd like to ask Kaldill to provide a disguise for her while she's here," I said.
Caylon blinked dark eyes at me for a moment before nodding. "I'll see to it," he agreed. "Come. We will pay Master Kaldill a visit."
* * *
"Easily done," Kaldill said the moment I asked. Jayna, who was quite confused by this time, could only stare at Kaldill in shock as he changed her appearance. After all, she felt nothing, and to us, she appeared the same. To anyone else, she would be quite plain, tall and sturdily built. The perfect candidate in Churg's eyes to train to protect us.
"This is what you look like to anyone outside our family," Kaldill handed her a small mirror. "To us, you are yourself and appear no different."
"How is this possible?" Jayna breathed.
"Ah. Since you cannot carry tales, then perhaps you should know that some elves wander outside their lands—when necessity demands," Kaldill smiled.
"Elves are real?" Jayna's eyes grew quite large. "There's real magic?"
"Real power, and yes, elves are real—just as winged people are real."
"I've only heard stories," Jayna mumbled, her eyes dropping again.
"You'll be reading the truth soon enough," I put an arm around her. "Berel and I will teach you."
"Where will the books come from?"
"Don't worry about the books," Berel smiled at her. "We'll find what you need."
* * *
I was dressed well enough and flanked by Justis and Terrett when we walked into the grand dining hall of the Churg estate. My stomach wanted to rebel at the thought of having dinner with known criminals.
That turned out to be the easiest part.
"Father, I want wings," Birtes Churg's fifteen-year-old daughter demanded the moment she caught sight of Justis and me.
"Zela, these are our guests," Birtes smiled at his eldest daughter. "We will ask where their wings came from, and then I shall find some for you."
"I want wings, too," a six-year-old said in a high voice.
"My dear, you shall have them," Birtes said, leaning down and kissing six-year-old Rela on the forehead.
"She always gets her way," Zela fumed as Rela clapped her hands and beamed at her father. These were spoiled children who'd developed a rivalry, each attempting to get something the other didn't have.
May the gods be merciful, Terrett muttered inside my head. I could see that he'd dealt with the spoiled children of wealthy criminals before.
Does he have other children? Justis asked.
An older son, who is working in Puntia, I replied. I'd seen that in Birtes—his son was much older than his daughters were—by design. Birtes didn't want the younger ones to struggle against his eldest, so there was twenty years difference between Nardes, his son, and Zela, his second-born.
Puntia is a manufacturing city north and east of here, Berel offered. It isn't the largest one, however—Mundia is the largest manufacturing city. It is run by the Juffa clan, the biggest and wealthiest crime family.
"Please, sit," Birtes invited. Both his daughters insisted on sitting between Justis and me. Rela's small hands were all over my feathers during dinner, with no polite orders from her parents to stop.
Justis silently fumed as Zela ran her hands down his wings on several occasions. They'd never been taught manners or consideration for others, that was obvious. Zela—well, she was fortunate that Justis found her contemptible. Any other man that she touched that way would take it as an invitation for sex.
I was grateful the girls were sent to bed after dinner, while the rest of us were invited for an after-dinner drink in another room. I knew the question was coming, I just wasn't sure how to answer.
"The information concerning our winged companions is in the final paperwork we submitted," Kaldill explained patiently for the second time. "They are born with the predisposition to grow wings—the only race to do so. They manifest in the child's ninth year."
"I will demand that Juffa send copies of the paperwork," Birtes muttered. He was angry that he couldn't get wings for his daughters that were exactly like Justis' and mine.
"There are mechanical wings that can be grafted, but they require a delicate operation," Caylon inserted smoothly. "When your daughters are fully grown, the operation can be performed. For now, their bones are still growing and no reputable physician will perform the graft, as it could damage their bodies."
"This is untenable," Birtes grumbled.
He doesn't want to say no to his children, I sent to Justis. I wished at that point that Kaldill had hidden our wings from the Churg family.
He is weak, Justis replied.
Justis was correct—Birtes inherited his position from his father. He had no problem allowing his son and employees to see to his interests in the world of crime on Vic'Law. What did it matter to him if people died through the use of poorly manufactured weapons that his factories produced?
He'd cut corners—that was easy enough for me to see. His weapons were affordable to non-Alliance armies, who kept buying, even when many of their members died from using the weapons in question.
I sent the information I'd seen in Birtes to Justis and Caylon; I knew they'd pass it to Kooper Griff.
Birtes was fit enough, but only because he had regular medical treatments to keep his weight under control. He was vain—anyone could see that in the way he dressed. His four wives were beautiful; that was all he cared about—that they were pretty enough to
be seen with him.
We had to spend a month with him.
I could see that none of our party was looking forward to any part of that month.
* * *
New Fyris
"Where is she, then?" Amlis asked as he and Torevik Rath were served wine in Amlis' study. He'd learned in the past two days that Quin was alive.
"On a non-Alliance world, searching for the criminal who destroyed Siriaa," Tory explained. "It's complicated, too, and I'm not allowed to say more than that."
"I know she probably doesn't want it, but I'd like to see her," Amlis stood and strode toward the window overlooking the castle courtyard.
"Perhaps when this assignment is finished," Tory shrugged.
"I'll extend an invitation," Amlis said. "She will be welcome in New Fyris anytime."
"How are the new arrivals fitting in?" Tory asked, changing the subject.
"Very well. Brandl has been appointed Chancellor of New Vogeffa; he attends Council meetings and carries four votes with him. His son, Randl, well, I've asked that he be allowed to serve here in the palace. The boy is an actual seer, and I can't say how valuable that would be to me. We have some of ours working with the volunteers your mother sent, teaching them how to use the farming equipment. They seem to be dealing with the changes well enough."
"They're probably happy that the laws of the Alliance protect them, now," Tory offered. "So they decided to call their land New Vogeffa?"
"Yes—the name was recently submitted for approval to the Grand Alliance Council. We expect to hear from them in a month, regarding approval. As for the Alliance laws, Brandl is very intrigued about them—we're teaching him and the others to read and write, by the way. Who is with Quin—to protect her?"
"Several, including the Falchani blade master who taught me. She is as safe as we can keep her, given the circumstances."
"I'm glad," Amlis sighed. "Will you keep me informed as to her progress? I realize that Siriaa was dying because of the poison, but still it is a blow that it no longer exists."
"It was your home. I'd feel the same way about Le-Ath Veronis. It's where I grew up and I'd be furious if someone destroyed it."
* * *
Zephili
"Lord Cayetes, did you call?" Dorgus spoke softly—the hour was early, before dawn reached the plantation.
"I had a dream. The same one for the third night," Vardil complained.
"My Lord, it was but a dream," Dorgus began.
"No. This one is different. In each dream, a glowing sphere hangs over my bed. It tells me I am marked for death. This time, I shouted at it. I demanded to know who was invading my sleep to tell me such lies. It responded," Vardil threw covers back and dropped his legs over the side of his bed before standing.
"What did it say?" Dorgus asked, lifting Vardil's robe from a chair and holding it out so Vardil could slip into it.
"It said I am Liron, and I have commanded your death," Vardil whispered in bewilderment.
* * *
Vic'Law
Quin
Ignore them, Caylon sent mindspeech. Jayna and I had an audience—Zela and Rela, with their nanny and companions, arrived to watch our lessons the following morning. Jayna did ignore them—mostly in self-defense. She may have had a fit of terrors if she hadn't. In my opinion, Sal was working miracles with her, keeping her engaged and her mind far from the audience we couldn't turn away.
Caylon set about doing the same; I had to concentrate on the blows he delivered so I could block them, which kept my mind on the lesson.
I had no idea that Caylon working shirtless would draw a tremendous amount of attention—but I should have known better. The onlookers didn't know whether to stare at the tattoos he wore of black panthers or at my wings—which I employed often to block blows.
Before long, I realized that Caylon had removed his shirt deliberately—to draw some of the attention away from me. By the end of our session, four household guards had also slipped in. I could see in their faces that they were interested in getting tattoos, now.
I wondered if Lafe would keep his skills to himself—after all, he'd done Caylon's tattoos. I knew that he'd begrudged many tattoos he'd done while in Gungl—before, the tattoos he'd done had been deserved by the Falchani warriors he'd inked.
"The demonstration is now over," Caylon nodded to all our observers. "Anyone who comes from now on will be expected to train. When Salidar and I train, we do not train shirkers or the curious. Our students will be serious or they will not be our students. I suggest you seek other training if that is the case."
I saw a widening of eyes—neither daughter nor the caregivers who'd come wanted to be pummeled—Caylon had given them a demonstration of what would happen when a student failed to block his blows. He'd thrown me to the mat four times, and I knew I'd have bruises from those falls.
When Jayna and I walked out of the dojo, Lafe and Justis walked in. Lafe would teach Justis two-blade fighting.
"Thank you, Sursee Caylon," I bowed to him before walking out the door. He nodded to me. Jayna did the same for Sal.
"Ugly, that one," a guard muttered at Jayna's back. I saw her smile; she was happy with her disguise.
* * *
Zephili
"I received word from Bleek," Magul reported to Vardil. "Three more worlds have been examined; the ones you seek weren't on any of them." Magul studied Vardil after delivering the news—he'd never seen Vardil so haggard, even wearing a body that needed replacement.
Dorgus said Vardil wasn't sleeping; Magul could see the evidence for himself. "I have another assignment," Vardil growled.
"Of course, my Lord," Magul offered a respectful nod.
"I want you to search for anyone named Liron and report your findings to me. I warn you, I may require deaths, should you find any bearing that name."
"With pleasure, my Lord."
* * *
Vic'Law
Quin
"We're not prisoners, although we should inform our host whenever we go on an outing," Kaldill said. Pellen poured tea for him as we had lunch in his suite—Berel, Yanzi, Terrett and I.
Bel Erland had decided to train with Justis and Lafe, while Sal and Caylon had chosen to have lunch delivered to a table in the garden.
"Where were you thinking of going?" I asked.
"To the high-end shops near the ocean—where the wealthy families buy. The shops are owned by their contemporaries, as you may imagine."
"I search for drakus seed there," Yanzi nodded. "I smell; Quin see."
"We're invited to a ball at the Juffa estate next eight-day," Kaldill sighed. "We must be properly dressed and on alert—this will be a part of their test," he added.
"What about Justis and the others?" Berel asked.
"They'll make a separate shopping trip," Kaldill shrugged. "It will provide us with an excellent opportunity to look for Cayetes' involvement, plus anything else Director Griff should know. He was quite unhappy with the news that drakus seed is being grown somewhere—perhaps here. All his agents are now on high alert, including those we left at the house in Der'Vek."
That worried me immediately. "Will they be investigating while we're here?" I asked.
"I believe that's what they've been told to do." I watched as Kaldill set his teacup down, the cup making a tiny, chinking sound as it settled on the saucer. At that moment, I wished Kooper Griff hadn't ordered our new servants to do investigative work while we were forced to stay with the Churgs. I couldn't imagine that anything good would come from either of those things.
"You worried," Yanzi turned to me.
"Yes. We're going to lose some and face possible exposure." I also felt ill—what I'd eaten had suddenly turned sour in my stomach.
"Three of ours have been killed," Caylon appeared inside Kaldill's suite.
Chapter 7
Quin
Until that moment, I'd only suspected that Caylon could fold space. My suspicions had been proven correct, but were accompani
ed by terrible news.
"Where? How?" Berel was already on his feet, his hands clenched as if he were preparing for war.
"A few blocks from the sweet shop," Caylon growled. I could see him struggling to hold back his anger—he wanted to find those responsible immediately.
My wings were clamped tightly to my back—I'd known the moment Kaldill told us about the investigations that something was wrong. Terrett gripped my hand. I turned toward him. We'll sort this out, he promised.
"We have to go shopping as planned," Kaldill said. Once again, his eyes had become hard. I pitied anyone who thought to cross the Elf King when he looked like that.
"We've already alerted Kooper," Caylon blew out a breath. "Stay safe." He disappeared as quickly as he'd arrived.
* * *
Mindspeech only when discussing the investigation, Kaldill cautioned as the hovercar, driven by Pellen, dropped us off at a large shop. The curved shore of Der'Vek's Western Bay was lined with shops, small and large.
Pellen knew which shop held the best clothing and had taken us there. He was silent as he drove—he'd lost three under his command and felt responsible for their deaths.
"We'll call when we're ready to go," Berel told him. Pellen nodded and steered the vehicle away.
Terrett, I feel queasy, I confessed as we walked toward the entrance.
I know. We'll get through this.
What's wrong? Berel asked.
She doesn't feel good, Terrett responded.
My dear, we must act natural, no matter what happens, Kaldill said. Yanzi opened the door for us; we walked inside. Moments later, guards sent by the Juffa family arrived to arrest all of us.
* * *
We have to attempt to salvage this operation, Caylon sent to us the moment we were shoved into a large cell where he, Sal, Lafe, Bel and Justis waited. Deny any knowledge of the activities of newly hired servants.
That would be easy enough to do—I'd only learned about it just as they were being killed.
* * *
One by one, we were pulled away from our cell and questioned. I wasn't surprised to see that I was left until last—in their minds, the only female among the males would know the least. The others had been taken elsewhere—they didn't return to the cell. They'd gotten nothing from them; I knew that just by looking at the guard.
BlackWing: First Ordinance, Book 3 Page 9
