Breaking Bard (Guardians of Terath Book 3)

by Zen DiPietro

  As she’d suspected, Ainsley Fields was guilty of no more than Kett was. After suggesting dire things should he say anything to anyone, Kassimeigh casually strolled around the room, rejoined Arc to chat with Ina for a few minutes, and then excused herself to the restroom. Two minutes later Izzy joined her.

  After ensuring they were alone, Kassimeigh barricaded the door with a swath of mana, since there was no lock on it.

  “Fields got the stuff from Greer. What have you found out about him?”

  “He’s funny, well spoken, very rich, and drops a lot of names. Apparently, he knows just about everyone in the world who is at all important.” Izzy made a small grimace of distaste. “Overall, he’s not that bad, just awfully full of himself. Though it might just be that he’s trying to impress me.” She ran her fingers over her hair. “He likes me,” she added.

  “Good. We can use that. Did you get any useful information?”

  Izzy shook her head. She eased herself onto the slim couch in the sitting room and kicked her shoes off. “Ahhhhh,” she sighed with relief. “These shoes are pretty but they’re like wearing shards of glass.”

  It was not surprising. The highly fashionable shoes were made out of a hard, synthetic material with a mirror shine. They were nothing like her own sensible, foot-shaped shoes. Before Izzy could protest, Kassimeigh picked one ridiculous shoe up, took a long breath, and tightened her senses. Within her hands, the shoe changed. The severe arch in it eased into a far more foot-friendly shape, and the hard material softened into a flexible fabric.

  “You’ve ruined it!” Izzy complained. “Those were really expensive!”

  “Now they’re practical.” Kassimeigh sat on the couch beside Izzy, picked up the other shoe and made it match.

  Izzy sighed dramatically. “You don’t understand fashion.”

  “Nope. Don’t want to. Anyway. Greer.”

  Izzy disdainfully nudged one of her shoes with her toe. “Nothing useful so far. But he wants me to come by his place after this.”

  “What did you say?”

  “Nothing yet.”

  Kassimeigh considered. This could work well. “Good.”

  Izzy slid her feet back into her shoes and returned to the gathering. Kassimeigh waited a few minutes, then followed. After another hour of socializing, Kassimeigh saw Izzy slip out the door with Greer.

  She went with Arc to give their thank-yous and goodnights to Ina, but two men and a woman reached Ina first. Kassimeigh recognized them immediately. Magistrates Olith, Sorenson, and Burroughs. Sorenson and Burroughs had been strong supporters of the creation of the Guard, thus earning Will’s gratitude. Of the three, Kassimeigh liked Burroughs the best because of her charitable efforts. The woman disliked to see inequity and tried to ensure that the disparity between the ridiculously rich and the simply comfortable did not grow too far. Kassimeigh respected that sensitivity. Perhaps it was due to Burroughs’ relative youth. At thirty-eight, she was one of the youngest magistrates ever to hold the office.

  “I hope you don’t mind us crashing your party,” Magistrate Sorenson laughed as he shook Ina’s hand in greeting.

  Ina’s smile was gracious, and her eyes showed amusement. She seemed truly pleased about the new arrivals. “Of course not. You know you’re always welcome at my events. I did send you invitations, after all.”

  “Pity,” chuckled Magistrate Olith. He had ruddy cheeks and a big laugh when he really got going. “I like the idea of being a party crasher. Sounds exciting.”

  “We just ended an event of our own in Morningville. Farming town, to the southwest. None of us had been out that way in a while, so we decided there was safety in numbers.” Sorenson raised his eyebrows conspiratorially.

  The magistrates shared a laugh. Kassimeigh didn’t find the joke all that amusing, but maybe it was only funny if you were a magistrate. She took advantage of the brief lull in conversation to tug Arc up to Ina for their goodbyes.

  “Leaving so soon?” Sorenson teased. “We didn’t even get a chance to talk.”

  “Duty calls, I’m afraid.” Kassimeigh gave a small, apologetic smile. “I’m sure we’ll catch up with you soon.”

  Ina hugged Arc and Kassimeigh. After shaking hands with the magistrates, Kassimeigh and Arc finally made their escape.

  Once out in the night air, Kassimeigh took a deep breath. The constant chafing on her hearing and sense of awareness disappeared completely. It felt blissful. It was almost worth attending social gatherings just for how wonderful it felt to leave them.

  “Better?” Arc asked knowingly.

  “Much,” she agreed.

  “But you’re not going to just come home to the fortress with me, are you?”

  “Nope.”

  “Can I help?”

  She considered. She didn’t need help for what she had planned. But having Arc with her was always preferable over not having him with her. She checked her hand comm and frowned at the time.

  “It’s really late,” she said. “I assume you have training in the morning, so you should be sleeping.”

  “Aw, c’mon. Don’t send me to bed. I want to stay up and have adventures with you.”

  She laughed. He did a pretty good impression of a whiny little kid.

  “You really want to?”

  “With you? Of course.”

  She should be responsible and refuse. “Okay. Let’s go. We need to hurry.”

  Fortunately, Kassimeigh hurried well. Arc appreciated that about her. With her kite, she wasted little time in getting to their destination. She obscured her vehicle behind the building and ducked around a corner. By the time Arc got around the same corner, she no longer wore the black dress. From neck to toes to fingertips, she wore a black shoka. Only her face remained uncovered. Her sword sheath rested on her back, and he was sure she felt much more comfortable that way.

  “How did you do that?” he whispered.

  “Shiv secret. I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.” Her quiet words were deadly serious, but her eyes gleamed with humor.

  She signaled him to follow her. “Step where I step. Nowhere else. Touch nothing.”

  They ducked around another corner and she put her hand to a security panel and narrowed her eyes. Arc saw the red light turn green, and she pushed the door open. He followed, careful to heed her instructions.

  The house was enormous. Arc had never been in a place like it. He recognized the security system as the top of the line. Ostentatious decorations festooned the place. Image displays of Greer with just about anyone on the planet who was the least bit famous or important plastered the wall of the hallway. Arc noticed one of the guy with Aunt Ina and grimaced.

  Kassimeigh stopped and listened. Arc didn’t hear anything, but it seemed that she did. She pushed him back toward a door he hadn’t noticed before. Within seconds, they stood breathing closet air perfumed with cedar chips. Kassimeigh had her ear pressed to the door and her back pressed against Arc’s front, due to the tight quarters of the closet. He kept his arm around her waist for balance. All of the shiv spy stuff notwithstanding, this part was pretty nice.

  She whisked the door open and they stepped out. Her head tilted to the side again, then she stole down the hall, made a right turn, a left turn, crossed through a parlor room, strode down another hall, dashed up a flight of stairs, and paused at a corner. He tried to calm his heartbeat and breathing, both of which had increased slightly. Kassimeigh stood as still and unperturbed as stone.

  Her shoulders lifted and her stance changed. Apparently they were no longer sneaking. He stood taller, too.

  She reached behind her head and brushed the hilt of her sword with her fingertips, as if ensuring it was there. Then she dropped her hand and strode imperiously down the hallway. She shoved open a heavy door and stormed in. Arc stayed on her heels.

  Izzy lounged on an armchair with a tall glass full of something orange in her hand.

  “Hey, Kass.” She waved her index finger casually.

&
nbsp; Seated in the chair next to her, Greer wore a look of shock and horror that made Arc feel bad for the guy. A little.

  Izzy sipped her drink, then gave it a jiggle that caused the ice to shift around. The small sound rang out in the silent room.

  “Nik Greer,” Kassimeigh intoned.

  The man inclined his head in a jerky nod.

  “I am Justice Kassimeigh, elder of the shiv order. I’m here to adjudicate you.”

  If the man had gone pale before, he went nearly translucent now. Kassimeigh had a certain effect on people. Okay, so it wasn’t just Kassimeigh, it was that she was a justice and an elder, but still. Arc liked to think she had a special flair for being terrifying that was all her own.

  She flicked a finger at Greer, indicating that he should move to the settee at the side of the room, which looked both expensive and stiffly uncomfortable. Kassimeigh caught Arc’s attention and tilted her head toward the recently vacated chair.

  Oh, good. That looked much more comfortable. Arc took a seat and Izzy offered him her drink. He accepted and took a long sip. Mmm. Mimosa. He could tell that the oranges were freshly squeezed. You just couldn’t get that bright, tart flavor from ready-made juice.

  He supposed he and Izzy were being a little nonchalant about what might be the most terrifying moment of this guy’s life. But he was being adjudicated by Kassimeigh and Arc was comfortable with that. Clearly Izzy was, too. If the guy hadn’t done anything wrong, then Kassimeigh would not have to kill him. Which would be best for everyone.

  Greer found his voice, rough and weak as it was. “What‌—‌”

  Kassimeigh cut him off with a chopping motion. “You’ve distributed an illegal substance.”

  He began to shake his head. “No, I‌—‌”

  Then he froze. Realization registered across his face and his shoulders slumped. “Sparkle.”

  “Yes.” Kassimeigh took two steps closer, now standing directly before him. She crossed her arms. Arc was glad he wasn’t the one being adjudicated. She looked positively petrifying. He glanced at Izzy, but he supposed she’d seen this enough times that she wouldn’t be impressed. She reacquired her drink from him.

  “What kind of punishment am I looking at?” Greer asked hoarsely.

  “Depends. Did you know that sparkle can be fatal?”

  His face crumpled. Apparently not.

  “No . . . no. Oh, gods. Did someone I give it to die?” He pushed back against the settee, his hand pressed to his mouth as if he might be sick.

  Kassimeigh ignored the question. “How many did you give it to?”

  “Six. No, seven. Six people I wanted to sign contracts with me. One I’d hoped would encourage someone else to sign. I just wanted to, you know, give them something special.”

  “And you didn’t know it could hurt anyone.”

  “No! They said it was harmless. I wouldn’t hurt anyone, much less people I wanted to work for me. Why would I do that?”

  Kassimeigh’s head turned slightly, and she caught Izzy’s eye. Izzy inclined her head once.

  Kassimeigh dropped her arms. “Here’s the deal. We don’t know if anyone you gave it to was hurt. I’m going to need those names so we can track them down, along with the sparkle. What I can tell you is that sparkle can kill. I’ve seen what it does firsthand. It’s not nice.”

  Kassimeigh paced around in a small circle. “Did you pay someone for it? Is it about money?”

  “I didn’t buy it.”

  “Who gave it to you?”

  Greer grimaced. He clearly didn’t want to divulge his source. But Arc knew he would.

  “Marten Stratos.”

  Arc knew that name, and from the set of Kassimeigh’s shoulders, he knew that she did, too. Sparkle wasn’t about money. It was about power.

  Arc felt bad for his aunt. She’d had a long evening.

  “Who would do this?” Ina paced her small living room, running her fingers through her shoulder-length hair. Usually, she’d have it secured into a twist or a chignon, but Arc, Kassimeigh, and Izzy had more or less invaded her cottage. After finishing up with the stragglers at the event, Aunt Ina had headed home to Luc, who had only just arrived after a day of working at the lab. Wisely, his new uncle had avoided yet another tedious political function. Before that thought evaporated, Arc made a mental note to call him “Uncle Luc” sometime soon. That ought to be fun. He’d have to find the right moment for maximum humor.

  The newlyweds had clearly been preparing for bed when he, Kassimeigh, and Izzy had intruded upon them. But he knew Aunt Ina would want the information immediately.

  “We were hoping you might be able to give us some ideas about that.” Kassimeigh still wore her shiv face. She remained calm, serene, seemingly untouchable. He had seen much of this face in his early days of knowing her. He’d seen less of it lately.

  “I haven’t spoken to Marten Stratos in some time,” Aunt Ina said, in a way that indicated she was rummaging through her memories for insight. “I’ve never cared for him, though probably all of the other magistrates have had him in their employ at one time or another. They all still might. I’ll have to do some records checking.”

  Marten Stratos was a public-relations specialist for government officials, or people who hoped to gain a public office. He had a reputation for being very effective. Arc had met him a few times at various events he’d attended for his aunt over the years. The man hadn’t made much of an impression on Arc, but then Arc didn’t need a PR specialist, so there was no real reason for Stratos to waste his time trying to curry Arc’s favor.

  “Going through any records you have would be helpful,” agreed Kassimeigh. “In the meantime, can you think of anyone who is making a big play for office? Someone looking to get into government or move up to a new position?”

  Arc sensed she had held a question back, though he didn’t know what it might be.

  Aunt Ina ran her hand through her dark, wavy hair again. She took a deep breath, then sat next to Luc on the couch. Two cups of tea and a sugar bowl cluttered the table in front of them, but Arc would wager that the tea had gone cold some time ago.

  Luc hooked his arm around his wife’s waist and she gave him an absent pat of appreciation on the leg. Arc hadn’t quite become accustomed to his aunt being a married woman, but it warmed his heart to see her personal life so full and happy.

  Her professional life was another thing entirely, at the moment.

  “Someone is always trying to gain a position, or improve one. I’d have to list just about everyone on the Council, or associated with any government utilities or functions.”

  “That brings me to my next question,” admitted Kassimeigh. “Is there anyone on the Council that you’d suspect of making a power play?”

  Aha. There was the additional question. Kass apparently suspected the Council.

  Ina’s lips pressed together as she considered. “No, none of them. And at the same time, yes, all of them.” She shook her head. “The thing is, no one gets a seat on the Council without hard work. We make connections, take positions in infrastructure, and keep pressing to make our mark. We’re all ambitious. But I’ve never known anyone on the Council to engage in illegal behavior or shady dealings.”

  Kassimeigh frowned. Clearly, she’d hoped for more. Arc wished he had a suggestion, but political intrigue was not his area of expertise.

  Izzy spoke up. “We’re all awfully tired. Why don’t we rest for the night, and reconvene in the morning? It would give us some time to consider our next steps.”

  Reluctant murmurs of agreement. Arc was glad. After the banquet dinner and Greer’s interrogation, he was exhausted. He doubted he was even capable of having a good plan for making toast at the moment. He definitely wasn’t up to sorting out this issue.

  “I’m afraid I don’t have a guest room, but if you all would like to stay here, you’re welcome, of course. Arc used to sleep on the couch, which has a pullout.”

  He, Kass, and Izzy all offered grateful but has
ty no-thank-yous. The monorail station was only a few blocks away, and would provide much better comfort and privacy for them.

  They said their goodnights and made their way there. It took very little time to rent two adjacent rooms and retire to them. Arc was glad to see Kass immediately ready herself for bed and put her head to the pillow. He beat her to it by only a minute or two.

  “It’s a shame we’re both exhausted,” he declared, giving her a kiss on the cheek before tapping the light control and plunging the room into darkness.

  “Why?” Her suspicious word hung in the quiet room.

  He skimmed his hands over the light blanket that covered them and found her neck. He brushed her hair aside and gave her a little tickle.

  “Because watching you be stealthy and menacing is very exciting.”

  She laughed, and he enjoyed being able to drift to sleep with a full heart and a smile.

  8

  Aunt Ina had recovered her decisiveness by the time Arc arrived at her house the next morning with Kass and Izzy.

  His aunt’s hair was gathered flawlessly into a smooth twist, and she wore one of her most severely cut suits. She greeted them and offered tea and toast.

  “Do you have strawberry jam?” Kass asked.

  Aunt Ina plucked a jar from the kitchen counter and placed it on the low table in the living room. Her small dining room couldn’t accommodate all five of them, so they had to make do on the couch and side chairs. Even in here, they were at maximum capacity.

  Kass accepted a cup of hot tea from Luc, then began spreading way too much jam on a piece of toast. They hadn’t taken the time to eat breakfast before leaving the station, but that had worked out for her. Arc had teased Kassimeigh many times about her favorite breakfast‌—‌tea and toast that practically groaned under the weight of jam. He and Izzy waved off the toast, accepting only cups of tea.

  Aunt Ina took the seat next to Luc and folded her hands over her knees. “What we need to do is go through all of the recent politicking. Look for trends. See if a newcomer is campaigning hard, or if someone who already has a position is doing a disproportionate amount of PR for their current role.”