Cloak Games: Shatter Stone

by Jonathan Moeller

  Though I did wonder what Baron Castomyr planned.

  It took two days of driving, and I was afraid the old van would give out, but we got back to Milwaukee without incident. The city had mostly dug out from under the blizzard, and the sky was blue and harsh, the air cold and sharp and dry. Riordan drove us to the towing company I had hired to move our vehicles, and we ditched the van a few blocks away and walked to the towing lot. I paid the exorbitant fees to release our vehicles, and we went our separate ways.

  “Hakon, Robert,” I said as we stood outside of Robert’s SUV. “Thank you. I don’t think I have to tell you that this wouldn’t have worked without your help.”

  Robert laughed and shook my hand. “Let’s never do this again, all right?”

  “I fervently wish for nothing more,” I said. “And I don’t have to tell you we should never talk about this with anyone.”

  “Yeah,” said Robert. He sighed. “Still, I hope the Knight of Grayhold is happy with what he did.”

  “He must be,” I said. “You saw how powerful the Stone was. The Rebels shouldn’t have a thing like that.”

  “Agreed,” said Robert. “It’s like an EMP, but for magic.”

  “Eh?” I said.

  “EMP. Electromagnetic pulse,” said Riordan next to me. “If an EMP of sufficient power goes off, it fries any electronic or electrical devices within range.”

  “What he said,” said Robert. “That blue rock is like that, but for magic. Imagine we’re fighting a battle with the Rebels or the Archons, and they use the Stone near the Wizard’s Legion or the Elven nobles. All their defensive spells collapse, and the Archons win the battle.” He shook his head. “It’s for the best that you stole the thing.” He looked at Hakon. “Looks like we managed to fulfill our oaths to both the High Queen and the Knight at the same time.”

  “Agreed,” said Hakon.

  “I’ll drive you home, Mr. Valborg,” said Robert, pulling out his keys. “Miss Moran…good luck, and please don’t be offended when I say that I hope we never meet again.”

  I laughed and shook his hand once more. “The same. Please tell Alexandra that…I’m sorry for taking you away from her.”

  “I will,” said Robert.

  “I’ll join you in a moment,” said Hakon. Robert nodded, climbed into the SUV, and started the engine. “I wish to tell you something.”

  “What is it?” I said.

  “Two things, actually,” said Hakon. “First. It is hard to know the hearts of young people…but if your brother and my granddaughter stay together long enough that he asks for her hand, I will not oppose it.”

  “Why?” I said.

  “I have seen what you did to save your brother,” said Hakon. “How far you are willing to go. If need be, how far would you be willing to go to save his wife?”

  I didn’t say anything. I knew the answer to that question. So did Hakon.

  “Thank you,” I said at last. “For Russell’s sake.”

  “Second,” said Hakon. “You must be careful. Lord Morvilind will kill you someday.”

  “I knew that already,” I said, the Knight of Grayhold’s warning flashing through my mind.

  “I have seen arrangements like this before,” said Hakon. “You are not the first shadow agent I have encountered. Other Elven lords maintain shadow agents, and once their usefulness has been used up, the shadow agents are killed.”

  “Yeah,” I said. Armand Boccand, Riordan, and Jacob Temple had all warned me about my fate. I had seen what had happened to Rosalyn. In the three hundred years since the Conquest, I wondered how many shadow agents Morvilind had gone through.

  How many of them he had used up.

  I wondered if any of them had died of natural causes.

  “Good luck, Miss Moran,” said Hakon, and I shook his hand. He shook Riordan’s hand, told him to look after me, and then climbed into the SUV. I watched as Robert drove off, the cold weight of the Nihlus Stone heavy in my pocket.

  ###

  I drove Riordan to the airport after that.

  “I need to talk with the Firstborn of the Family,” he said. “We have been looking for the Forerunner for a long time. That was why the Firstborn told me to find you in the first place, in hopes that you might lead us to him.”

  I laughed. “Looks like the Firstborn was right, wasn’t he?”

  “I don’t know when I’ll be back,” he said. “As soon as I can.”

  “Take as long as you need,” I said, pulling the van to a stop by the curb. Travelers with suitcases walked back and forth in a hurry along the sidewalk, heading to the terminals. “And I’ll keep my promise.”

  “Which promise?” said Riordan.

  “To tell you,” I said, “how I met Nicholas Connor the first time.”

  I didn’t want to talk about it…but I kind of wanted to anyway. I had kept that secret for so long, and it would be nice to talk to someone about it. I just hoped that Riordan didn’t reject me in revulsion. If he did…well, what would be would be.

  “I know,” said Riordan.

  “Thank you,” I said. “For everything. I couldn’t have survived this without the Graysworn…but I definitely couldn’t have done this without you. And I’m glad you didn’t get killed.”

  “I’m glad you weren’t killed, either,” said Riordan. “And I…”

  I reached over, grabbed his collar, leaned across the seat, and kissed him hard on the lips. His arm coiled around my back to help me keep my balance, and we stayed like that for a moment. My feet went off the pedals, so it was just as well that I had put the van in park. When we broke apart and I dropped back into the driver’s seat I saw a passing traveler look at us in disgust, and I burst out laughing.

  “Come back soon,” I said. He had been there for me when I had needed him, and he hadn’t betrayed me or hurt Russell. That meant a lot.

  I think I was surprised to realize how much he had come to mean to me.

  Riordan smiled, grabbed his bag, and got out of the van. I watched as he vanished into the terminal, and then I put the van into drive and headed out.

  My next stop wouldn’t be nearly as pleasant.

  ###

  Rusk greeted me at the doors to Morvilind’s mansion.

  He looked astonished.

  “Miss Moran,” he said. “You’re…alive.”

  “Yes,” I said. “Barely. Is Lord Morvilind here? He will want to see me.”

  “He is,” said Rusk. “This way. Oh, please remove your boots. We spend a fortune on floor wax this time of year.”

  I took a moment and tugged off my boots, and then followed Rusk down the wide corridor, my feet slipping a little against the polished floor. I felt a sudden childish impulse to break into a run and glide the rest of the way to Morvilind’s library.

  “Your daughter,” I said. “Is she…any different?”

  Rusk sighed. “No. No worse, so I suppose that is something.” We walked in silence for a while. “I am pleased you are not dead.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “Me too. Though I’m mostly surprised.”

  Rusk snorted, once, and we entered Morvilind’s library. Morvilind wasn’t at his work table, but instead stood at one of the bookshelves, paging through a tome with a cover of red leather, Elven hieroglyphs on the side. I knew just enough Elven hieroglyphs to make out that the book had something to do with summoning and binding spells.

  I went to one knee, and Rusk clicked his heels together and bowed.

  “Miss Moran to see you, my lord,” said Rusk.

  “Thank you,” said Morvilind, closing the book and returning it to the shelf. “You may go about your duties.”

  Rusk bowed and departed.

  “Rise,” said Morvilind.

  I got to my feet, watching him. He looked so utterly cold and alien. I knew that he was brutal and efficient, and he had threatened me with death again and again. I had hated and feared him all my life, but after seeing what he had done Rosalyn, for the first time a flicker of contemp
t went through me.

  Maybe he would sense it and kill me.

  “My lord,” I said, reaching into my pocket and drawing out the sphere. “The Nihlus Stone.”

  Morvilind stared at the sphere for a moment, and then took it in his bony hand. He held it up before his eyes, turning it back and forth, and then nodded to himself.

  “You have performed satisfactorily, Nadia Moran,” said Morvilind. “You may go.”

  I hesitated, and then took hold of my courage. “My lord. A question, if I may.”

  Morvilind did not speak, but inclined his head.

  “What did you do to Rosalyn Madero?” I said.

  For a moment, he said nothing, then a hiss of annoyance came from his mouth.

  “You did not kill her, I take it?” said Morvilind.

  I didn’t want to tell him that I had felt sorry for her. “No. It was…chaotic in Venomhold, my lord. I barely escaped with my life. There wasn’t time to kill her.”

  “Mmm,” said Morvilind, rolling the Stone in his hand, his gaunt fingers moving over the glowing symbols. “Did you realize that she sent the banehound after you? She knew that I knew of her talent for artificing. Once she completed the Nihlus Stone for the Knight of Venomhold, she foresaw that I would send you to take it. The banehound was a preemptive strike.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I said. His cold blue eyes narrowed. “My lord.”

  “The knowledge would have been of no use to you,” said Morvilind.

  “But what did you…do to her?” I said. “She was insane. Her husband Jason…”

  “She is still indulging in necromancy in a futile effort to bring her husband to life, I take it?” said Morvilind.

  “Yes,” I said.

  Morvilind said nothing for a moment, still rolling the Stone in his fingers, and I thought he would dismiss me.

  “Rosalyn Madero had finished her term of service to me,” said Morvilind, his voice distant. “I keep my word, Nadia Moran. I fulfilled my side of our pact, and she fulfilled hers. I told her she was free to go. So long as she never interfered in my affairs, she could have lived out her life in peace with children and grandchildren.”

  “She interfered, though,” I said.

  “Rosalyn decided she wanted vengeance upon me,” said Morvilind. “She went to the Inquisition, claiming I was in league with the Rebels.” His mouth twisted with contempt. “As if I would associate with such vermin. I had warned her, and she ignored my warning. Therefore, I used her vial of heart’s blood to send a death spell upon her. It should have killed her, but instead she fled to Venomhold and became a vassal of the Knight. Now she serves as the Knight’s court artificer, creating magical devices to assist the Knight of Venomhold in her war against the High Queen.”

  There had to be more to it than that. But I knew he wouldn’t tell me.

  “Her example,” said Morvilind, “is the reason I decided not to train any further female shadow agents. The males are preferable. Less emotional.”

  “I’m female,” I said. “You trained me anyway.”

  The full weight of his attention fell upon me, and he did something unsettling.

  He almost smiled.

  He didn’t quite make it, but his thin lips did twitch. Seeing him smile was almost as disturbing as his cold anger.

  “And have you not been effective?” said Morvilind. “Your love for your brother drives you. The bond has shaped your mind. You would do anything to save him – and you have. Who knows? Perhaps you will even survive long enough that our pact shall be completed and your brother cured. If you do, remember the example of Rosalyn Madero, and see that you do not follow her path into folly. You may go.”

  Without another word, he turned and walked to his work table, setting the Nihlus Stone down before his monitors.

  I got out of there and drove back to the Marneys’ house.

  ###

  Six days later Riordan returned from New York, and I kept my promise to him.

  We went out to get coffee, and I told him everything about Nicholas Connor. How we had met, how I had fallen for him, how he had planned to use me as the dupe for the stadium bombing, and how I had turned the tables on him and wrecked his Rebel cell. He listened without interrupting, motionless in his chair.

  “Well?” I said, clutching my coffee cup with both hands. “What do you think?” He didn’t say anything. “If you want to leave, I’ll understand. I mean, I fell in love with someone like that, and…”

  He let out a breath. “I am hardly one to judge poor relationship choices. My wife tried to kill me at the behest of the Rebels.”

  I blinked. “Really?”

  He nodded. “Miranda was…angry. She hated the Elves, and after I became a Shadow Hunter, she thought to curry favor with the Rebels by killing me.” His face grew still. “I had to kill her in self-defense. Later, there was another woman, Sasha. She was a Shadow Hunter, but she lost control of her Shadowmorph and became a serial killer. I wound up having to kill her.” He let out another breath. “I was alone for a long time after that…and then I met you.”

  “I’m an idiot, you know,” I said. “I should have seen through Nicholas sooner.”

  Riordan shrugged. “I should have seen through Miranda and Sasha sooner. Maybe we’re both idiots together.”

  “Yeah.” I took a deep breath, and then grinned. “But, hey. Look at it this way. I haven’t gone crazy yet. And you haven’t betrayed me to the Rebels or the Inquisition. You’ve come through for me a bunch of times.”

  “I would be upset if you were hurt,” said Riordan.

  “Well, I’d be upset if you were hurt, too,” I said. “I mean, I was really upset when Mr. Cane tore you up. I mean, if you’re falling in love with a man, you don’t want him to…”

  I trailed off once I realized what I had said. I sputtered a few times, but couldn’t put together a coherent sentence.

  Riordan stared at me for a long moment, and then he smiled.

  “And if you’re falling in love with a woman,” he said in a quiet voice, “you don’t want to see her hurt.”

  I leaned over the table and gave him a kiss. We were in public, and a few people gave us looks, but to hell with them.

  “Hey,” I said. “Want to have dinner at the Marneys? They like you, you know. They have good taste.”

  “I would be glad of it,” said Riordan.

  ###

  It was a nice dinner.

  Riordan and I didn’t sleep together after that (I know that’s what you’re wondering). We were still in favor of taking it slow. We might have tentatively admitted that we loved each other, but some scars don’t ever completely heal over, and some things just take time.

  That was one of them.

  Maybe it was just as well.

  It would have made the storm that was about to fall on me so much worse.

  Epilogue

  The Lord Inquisitor Arvalaeon stood in the corner of the Marneys’ dining room and watched Nadia Moran eat dinner with her brother, her adoptive family, and her boyfriend.

  He had been standing there for an hour, and they hadn’t noticed him.

  They couldn’t see him, of course. His proficiency with the Cloak spell had grown over the centuries, and he could come and go as he pleased, wrapped in the Cloaking spell. Not even the hybrid with his Shadowmorph symbiont would sense his presence. Arvalaeon could have walked up and killed all five of them before they realized what was happening.

  He wouldn’t, of course. There was already so much blood on his hands. There was no reason to add to it.

  Because sooner enough, he would have no choice but to add to it.

  That miserable equation had defined his life. Arvalaeon had done terrible things in the name of his duty, things that haunted his dreams centuries later. Yet the horrible truth was that if he had not done those things, then far worse things would have happened.

  Things like what Baron Castomyr of La Crosse intended to do.

  “Damn you,
” said Arvalaeon aloud. “Damn you for making me do this again.”

  No one heard him. The Cloak spell made sure of that.

  His gaze rested upon Nadia as she sat next to the Shadow Hunter, grasping his hand under the table. By the standards of humans, Nadia was pretty, with gray eyes and brown hair and a fit body. But Arvalaeon knew well that beauty was deceptive, and there was steel under that pretty face.

  Nadia, too, knew what it meant to do terrible things.

  Yet she had not lost herself, not yet. Despite all she had endured, despite all that Morvilind had done to her, she still loved her family and her boyfriend. If she survived her indenture to Morvilind, in time she would likely lead a normal life – no doubt she would marry the Shadow Hunter and bear his children. Her brother would marry and have children, and they would become yet another extended human family, happy in their blood kinship and simple lives.

  A wave of self-loathing rolled through Arvalaeon.

  He was going to take that from her.

  He was going to turn her into a monster. Into someone like him, come to think of it.

  And he would do it without hesitation, without remorse, because the alternative was far worse. If he did not, then Nadia and everyone in this room would die when Castomyr embarked upon his criminal folly.

  Everyone in Milwaukee as well, and most of the central third of the United States, Elves and humans both.

  Arvalaeon waited as the humans finished their dinner, the silver fire in his veins thrumming from time to time as they spoke. Even among humans who loved each other, there were still little lies – when James Marney said that he didn’t want a second piece of pie for desert, or when Russell Moran said he didn’t mind doing the dishes. Dr. Marney wanted that extra dessert, and the boy didn’t want to do the dishes. Yet they lied nonetheless, lied to help those they loved.