Lisa Shearin - Raine Benares 02 (39 page)

No
freedom. No lives of our own.

No
way in hell.

Piaras
stepped closer to me. “So where are we going?” he asked softly.

“To
see which way the wind is blowing.”

Phaelan
had said he was going to wait for us across the street from
the elven embassy. I had no desire whatsoever to get
within miles of that place, but I soon found we didn’t have a choice. When I
got a glimpse of the harbor, it was obvious that Tanik Ozal’s slip was empty.
Taltek Balmorlan’s yacht was still there, as were the Khrynsani and Mal’Salin
vessels, but no Tanik.

Either
Tanik had to suddenly get out of port, which, knowing Tanik, was hardly
surprising, or something more nefarious had happened while I was gone.

Walking
gave my brain time to ponder even more disturbing possibilities. If Rudra
Muralin had killed me, he would have regained control of the stone. That
scenario was bad enough, but it raised some even uglier questions. Would that
work only for Muralin, or could any mage powerful enough kill me and be able to
command the Saghred? And would the rock take anyone, or was it picky, like
taking only the mage most likely to feed it? My father had starved the Saghred
and lived nearly nine hundred years.

I
just wanted to live.

Worse
still was a realization that rolled my stomach, and made me want to get as far
away from these kids as possible. If a spellsinger or magic user was killed and
a drop of their blood landed on me, would the Saghred slurp their soul, using
me as the straw? Just as long as no one died in my immediate vicinity, I
wouldn’t have to find out.

So
many questions, way too few answers.

Answers
that, unfortunately, I could only find here.

I
felt a touch and jumped. It was Tam; his arm had brushed my shoulder. He’d come
up next to me and I’d never heard him. I was still thinking about slurping and
straws.

I
stopped, and Ronan and the kids waited a little distance ahead, giving us some
privacy.

“It’s
best that I leave now.” Tam lowered his voice to a bare whisper. “Whether
Mychael or Carnades is in charge, it’s dangerous for you to be seen with me.”
He glanced back at where Talon stood with Tam’s mages. “And I can’t risk my
son, or the men who risked their lives to help me.”

“A
high-powered group of guys,” I noted.

“Yes,
they are.”

“Old
colleagues?”

“And
good friends.”

Tam
was right about not being seen now. The Conclave and possibly now the Guardians
saw things in black and white. Tam was gray, but now he was sometimes black.
They didn’t know what to make of him.

To
tell you the truth, neither did I.

“Do
you know what you do to me?” Tam whispered.

I remembered
the cell block and the alley. “I think I’ve got a good idea. You do the same to
me.” I forced my voice to be steady. “Tam, I’m going to get rid of my link to
the Saghred; once that’s done, it won’t be an issue anymore. We can go back to
the way things were.”

His
dark eyes glittered in the streetlamps. “You don’t believe that any more than I
do.”

“No,
I don’t. But I do believe in denial. My family’s developed it to an art form.
Much like goblins and deception.”

“Deception
for your own good,” Tam corrected.

“I’d
like to be the judge of that from now on.”

Tam
looked straight ahead, his profile stern. “When I tell you to stay away from
me, I expect you to listen.”

“Expect?”

He
glanced down at me, a faint smile visible in the lamplight. “How about hope?”

“You
can hope all you want, just don’t hold your breath.”

Tam
was silent for a moment. “Just because I am no longer married into the
Mal’Salin family doesn’t mean they don’t ask favors from time to time,” he said
softly, and in Goblin. “They have, and they will continue to do so. Some favors
I can comply with—others may prove more of a challenge.”

“Like
me.”

His
lips curled into a quick grin. “I’ve always considered you a challenge.” The
grin vanished. “Rudra Muralin has nothing to do with the Mal’Salin family, and
he’s merely using the Khrynsani to get what he wants. And the family’s
connection to the Khrynsani is—shall we say—fluid.”

“Good
old goblin ‘shifting alliances.’ ”

Tam
nodded. “King Sathrik Mal’Salin wants the Saghred—and you. He has made no secret
of that. The same can be said of his brother Prince Chigaru.”

I
remembered the prince’s hospitality from last week; so did Piaras. For Chigaru
Mal’Salin, the end justified any means. And Sarad Nukpana was, or used to be,
Sathrik’s chief counselor. Both Sathrik and Chigaru wanted to get their hands
on the Saghred and do some smiting of their own, starting with each other.
Sathrik was a new king who wanted to prove himself; Chigaru was an exiled
prince looking for a throne.

“Have
they asked for a favor?” Namely me.

Tam’s
answer was silence.

“So
what are you going to do about it?”

“Favors
imply a sense of obligation or loyalty, and asking is not the same as
receiving.”

And
for Tam, or any goblin, a response was not the same as an answer.

I
shook my head. “I’m beginning to believe Phaelan has the right idea.”

“What’s
that?”

“Trust
no one.”

“Do
you trust me?” Tam said it almost too softly to be heard.

I
hesitated, sighed, then reached down and took his hand. Tam’s fingers wrapped
warm and strong around mine. The magic sparked between us, though this time it
was warm and tingling, not violent and lustful.

“Though
you’re the last thing I need,” I muttered.

I
heard the smile in his voice. “But I’m the first thing you want.”

When
we got within sight of the elven embassy, it was swarming
with Guardians. When we got closer, it was obvious
that someone had been doing a little exterior remodeling.

The
embassy had a hole in it. A big, gaping, smoking hole. An entire section of the
wall was gone and smoke was pouring out of the building.

It
was beautiful.

I
wasn’t the only one who thought so.

Phaelan
and some of Tanik’s crew stood admiring it from across the street like it was a
work of art you had to view from several angles to truly appreciate.

“Ronan,”
I said. “Piaras and I are going to leave you for a while.” I paused. “We might
rejoin you—we might not.”

The
maestro nodded. “I understand.” He held out his hand to Piaras and Piaras took
it. “Master Rivalin, I hope you are able to resume our lessons. You have a
truly rare gift and it would be a shame—and a danger—if it were not properly
developed.”

“Thank
you, sir. I hope I can continue my studies, too.”

Ronan
extended his hand for mine and I was once again treated to a most proficient
hand kiss. “Mistress Benares, it has been both a pleasure and an adventure—an
adventure I hope to never repeat.”

I
grinned at him. “I’ll bet you don’t get to say that to many girls.”

“I
can honestly say that you’re the first.”

We
watched for a minute until Ronan and the spellsingers were spotted by the
Guardians at the elven embassy. They were safe; I wished I could say the same
for us.

“Did
you get a chance to say good-bye to Katelyn?” I asked Piaras.

He
bit his lip and his eyes were sad. “No. But maybe it won’t be for long.”

“Maybe
not.”

Phaelan
spotted Piaras and me and was grinning like the explosives-happy maniac he was.
We quickly darted into the shadows and my cousin greeted us both with
bone-crushing hugs.

I
stepped back and draped an arm over my cousin’s shoulder, admiring the view
along with him.

“You
do magnificent work. Truly awe inspiring.”

Phaelan
shook his head, still beaming. “Not mine.”

“No?”

“Nope.
Tanik’s junior gunner. That boy has a true gift.” He lowered his voice. “The
official story is Tanik was taking the
Zephyr
to a new slip, the boy was
messing around with the forward cannon, and when the
Zephyr
passed the
embassy, it accidentally went off. Apparently the kid didn’t know it was
loaded.”

Piaras
and I looked at the hole and turned and noted the path the cannonball had
taken. Piaras whistled. It was a straight shot down a narrow street to the
harbor. An extremely narrow street, more like an alley. That was a flawlessly
timed accident. The kid was gifted. Tanik might want to keep watch over his
junior gunner; Phaelan was always on the lookout for new talent.

My
cousin’s grin turned sly. “Unofficially, I thought you two might need a
distraction—and the paladin looked like he needed another way into the
embassy.”

I
blinked in disbelief. “You’re helping Mychael?”

Phaelan
shrugged. “We chatted briefly from a comfortable distance. I told him who had
Piaras, where he’d been taken, and that you’d gone in after him. Then Tanik’s
gunner had his accident. After that, the paladin and a couple dozen of his boys
made use of the new door in the embassy wall. Eiliesor hasn’t come out and
thanked us, but he hasn’t tried to have us arrested, either.”

I
looked around. There were curious onlookers and plenty of Guardians in full
battlefield armor. Most of those Guardians were elves. I smiled. Leave it to
Mychael to try to get into the elven embassy using the most legal means
possible.

“It
was a regrettable and embarrassing accident,” Phaelan was saying. “Tanik and
the boy want to personally apologize to the ambassador, but he seems to have
gone missing.”

I
laughed. “Check under his desk.”

“Where’s
Inquisitor Balmorlan?” Piaras asked.

“No
one’s seen him, either,” Phaelan said.

“His
yacht’s still in the same slip,” I told him. “The Khrynsani ship is still here,
too.”

The
Guardians near the embassy’s front gates came to attention. When I’d gone in as
Captain Baran Ratharil, they’d parted the wards just enough for me to squeeze
through.

They
shut them down completely for Paladin Mychael Eiliesor to leave.

I
grinned. In through a breach in the wall, out through the front gates. Someone
in there had decided to cooperate.

Mychael
saw me, and after a few brief words with one of his officers, he started toward
us. When he got close enough, Piaras walked forward to meet him.

“Sir,
I didn’t attack the archmagus. It—”

Mychael
held up an armored hand. “I know, Piaras. And so does Justinius.”

“He’s
alive?”

“He
weak, but I believe he’ll recover.”

Mychael
slowly turned his head to look at Phaelan. “I have no knowledge of the events
immediately preceding the firing of that cannon.”

“Would
you like some?” Phaelan offered.

“No,
I would not. I also do not want to hear rumor, innuendo, or confirmation that
it was anything other than an accident. The city watch has taken Master Ozal’s
statement, and they are satisfied that there was no malice or forethought
involved on his part or that of his crew.”

“Tanik’s
the salt of the earth,” Phaelan proclaimed, his expression solemn. “Not a
malicious bone in his body.”

“There
will be no further investigation.” Mychael paused meaningfully. “Into
this
incident. The same guarantee does not apply to any such future incidents.”

“Understood.
I’m sure Tanik will take the appropriate measures to ensure that his forward
cannon never blows a hole in the south wall of the elven embassy ever again.”

I
couldn’t care less about holes in the elven embassy. I had one question, a big
one. “Has Acting Archmagus Carnades Silvanus ordered either my or Piaras’s
arrest, extradition, and/or execution?”

“He
has not,” Mychael assured me. “He lacks that authority.”

“He’s
not archmagus until Justinius recovers?”

“He
is, but the Isle of Mid is under martial law.
My
martial law.” Mychael’s
gaze took in every possible threat within fifty feet of us. “Raine, we really
shouldn’t be standing out in the open. It’s not safe for either one of us, but
especially not for you.”

He’d
get no argument from me on that one.

“Phaelan’s
staked out a nice patch of dark over there,” I told him.

“That
will suffice.”

Mychael
and I stepped into the shadows of a building near where Tanik’s crew was
gathered. I waved to the boys and they waved and grinned back. I noticed that a
quartet of elven Guardians kept their paladin in sight and within response
distance.