The Unseen Tempest (Lords of Arcadia) (11 page)

“You are right. Ignorance of the law is not a defense, but we ask for forgiveness.”

I was shocked because I’d never heard polite and pleading coming from Hawk’s mouth before. He really did sound like he was sorry, which I knew from his thoughts he wasn’t.

Father William seemed to accept the apology because he bowed his head slightly. “I am not the one to ask.”

He stepped aside, and it took me a second to realize the beautiful woman walking toward us was indeed the red queen. She looked like some kind of fashion model with flawless pale skin and black hair pulled back into a pretty severe bun. The gown she was wearing looked like it was made of blood somehow transformed into cloth from the way it flowed around her. She had a scepter in her hand that could have been the taller cousin of Ruber, since it was carved from one single piece of ruby.

There was no way she could be considered any less than fierce in my mind.

“These are the violators,” Father William said as she stopped in front of us. “As you can see, one is the royal page.”

At first I thought her eyes were dark brown as she looked from Hawk to Ruber to Milo, but when she locked gazes with me, I could tell they were as red as her dress. Instantly, my imagination morphed her into a vampire queen. But still fierce. I unconsciously rubbed my neck.

She began to speak, and I held my breath as I waited for her to order our execution.

“Welcome to Aponiviso, Prince Maragold. You have your mother’s eyes.” Hawk bowed to her, and I followed suit, grabbing at any hints as far as protocol when meeting fellow royalty. “Milo, these people are with you?”

The white rabbit glanced over to Hawk and then to me, and I fully expected him to sell us out. Instead he nodded and said, “They requested a meeting with you, Your Majesty. I deemed it in your best interests to meet them.”

She gave us one more look over and then nodded. “Very well. We shall listen to them.” She turned and gave Father William some kind of gesture with her hand as she began to walk away. “Then we can talk about execution for interrupting a royal game after that.”

W
HEN
THE
tone stopped, the choppers woke back up.

Caerus faded away into an invisibility spell as she hovered near the ceiling. The clockwork warriors moved in an orderly fashion back into formation as if nothing had happened. If they had been thinking creatures, they would have at least remembered they had been pursuing something, but instead they lined up waiting for orders.

That was when the sapphire figured out how the workshop security worked.

Staying invisible, she flew back to the control panel and checked the tiles. She was not surprised to read:

WORKSHOP-ALL CLEAR-STANDBY-RECHARGE

Whatever alarm they had set off upstairs had been reset when the tone overrode it. She could hear the ticking behind the panel. The entire apparatus was run by moving gears. She dropped the invisibility spell and began to cast another spell. As soon as she became visible, the tiles began to move. Caerus could read the ALL CLEAR tile begin to switch to INTRUDER. She knew the second it fell the choppers would receive orders, and she would be in combat again. Channeling what energy she could spare, the gemling shouted “
Inalgesco
” at the control panel. A beam of pale blue light shot out and struck the tiles just as they began to turn.

The panel froze solid.

The ticking stopped and with it the humming sound that had been all around her. She waited to see if there was some kind of failsafe in place, but as seconds passed, she became convinced she had just turned off the workshop’s security. As long as the tiles were frozen, there was no way for the gears to move, activating the rest of the machines.

Now that she had time, she flew across the room, looking for an exit from the lower levels. She discovered a door that was sealed shut. A keyhole was set into the middle of it, but she had no idea where the key could be. Nor did she have the inclination to look for it.

Instead, she lashed out a beam of heat and began to burn a hole through the door large enough for her to float through. She had seen far more of the workshop than she desired.

Coming down the hall, Ferra and Molly continued moving downward, wary for any sign of attack. Ferra glanced over to another set of doors that housed choppers and commented, “Machines or not, this whole place reeks of magic.”

Perhaps her etiquette spring was not wound tight enough or maybe it was the pressure of being back in the workshop, but the clockwork girl stopped and turned on the barbarian. “You are made of ice. Living ice. How in the Nine Realms can that not be considered magic?”

Ferra paused, shocked to hear such emotion come from Molly.

“I mean, honestly, your God says that magic is bad, but you make spears of ice. It says love between the same gender is wrong, but obviously you were born that way. Have you considered that these rules aren’t dogma and are just the ramblings of some angry old men?”

Ferra bit down the response that came to her lips and instead took a half step back. “My ice is a gift from Logos, not a perversion of magic, and no one said I was born any way. I know you’re upset about being here, but do not
ever
take the Lord’s name in vain.”

Molly looked up at her, obviously ready to argue, when Caerus flew down the hall. “Are you two aware you’re yelling? I could hear you two floors down.” Neither woman responded, and the sapphire added, “I’ve disabled the security system for now, but we need to find what we came for sooner rather than later.”

Ferra glanced at Molly. “You’re the one who knows where we are going,” she said, gesturing down the hall.

“Fine,” the companion snapped, walking off without another word.

“What’s going on?” Caerus asked Ferra as they followed, but the barbarian said nothing.

“This is what’s wrong with emotion,” the gemling commented to herself as they followed Molly into the darkness.

A
TER
HAD
no idea how much time had passed.

His last memory was Kor pulling an arrow on him, and now he was lying on a blanket with his pack as a pillow. Kor was sitting cross-legged in an indentation in the cave, tracing his fingers over the runes on his bow, his way of memorizing spells. When he noticed the dark elf was awake, he put the bow over his shoulder, and it obediently vanished.

“There is some water next to you; truth spells can leave you dehydrated.”

Ater said nothing as he reached for the canteen. The water was from the elven spring near Kor’s house, and just the taste of it brought back a score of memories long ago forgotten about growing up in Evermore. He resisted the instinct to spit the water out, knowing the memories wouldn’t be so easily banished. He took two large gulps before fastening the cap back on and placed the canteen back on the ground. “Why would you cast a truth spell on me?”

Kor took the container and fastened it to his belt. “Because I needed to know what happened to Pullus, and I assume you’re resistant to the standard truth serums.”

He stated it so matter-of-factly Ater had to admit it made a certain amount of sense. “So what did you discover?”

The sorcellerie said nothing for a long time, mulling his next words carefully. “I discovered that my brother died saving a life, so I pray that puts him back in Koran’s good graces. I discovered that the changeling who has taken control of the capital sent a djinn out that was responsible for Pull’s death—” He paused and took a breath. “—and I discovered that you have a death wish and want someone to kill you.”

Neither man said a word as the revelation of Ater’s suicidal desire sat there like the barrus in the room that it was.

“Will you kill me?” Ater asked after a few minutes.

Before Kor could answer, they heard the sound of footsteps on dried leaves outside the cave. Both elves got up silently, drawing their respective weapons. Kor gestured he would distract whatever it was while Ater made a run for it. It sounded like a horrible idea to the dark elf, but there wasn’t much room to debate the plan.

Two guards from Evermore edged cautiously into the cave mouth.

Kor pulled back his arrow, whispered “
Telam
,” and let it fly. Ater watched as the arrow turned from dark brown to almost ash white. The first elf saw the arrow but had no time to react before it exploded around him. The arrow expanded into a gigantic web, covering both intruders in gossamer-like strands. They began to struggle against it, but it solidified, freezing them in place as they cried out for help.

Two more elves came rushing in, but Ater was already on it.

With the hilts of his blades, he slammed each of them in the side of the head. Staggered, they tried to defend themselves, but it was no use; within seconds the dark elf had knocked them both out. Grabbing a length of rope out of his pack, he pulled them farther into the cave and tied them up.

“You didn’t kill them,” Kor said, and it wasn’t a question.

Ater didn’t pause in making sure the guards were secure. “I am an assassin, not a murderer. I kill for a reason, not for sport. You might want to find a way to gag those two,” he added, gesturing at the two guards still trapped in the web.

Kor promptly launched an arrow at them with the incantation “
Sopor
.”

Both guards passed out instantly.

“We need to move,” Kor said, grabbing his pack. “It seems Nystel has figured out my intentions sooner than I expected.”

“Your intentions?” Ater asked, confused. “All you have to do is kill me and it’s over.”

“You’re going to help me find that changeling bastard. Then we’ll talk about you dying.”

Ater paused. “You can’t kill him. You’d turn from the light.”

Kor said nothing as he looked out the mouth of the cave. “Trust me, it’s complicated.” Before Ater could respond, he said, “Come on; let’s move” and headed out of the cave.

Ater followed reluctantly, swearing he would do what he could to keep Pullus’s brother safe. From himself if need be.

Chapter 5

There is a fine art to negotiation.

You start with finding something they want

and then exploit the hell out of it.”

Chief Belette

Owner of the Kay Nine Food Company

The Willows

I
T
WAS
pretty clear I was nowhere near Kansas anymore.

Not like I had ever been in Kansas, but the saying seemed appropriate. A walking hatstand greeted us when we entered the castle and asked if it could take our coats. There wasn’t a mouth anywhere I could see; it just asked us. When we said no, it scurried past a chicken wearing a pair of what I imagine would be a fashionable pair of pumps if I were poultry.

And into pumps.

“Mistress Demain,” it cluck-talked as it followed us into a rather impressive study, “I have a coalition from the unassigned that wishes to know what the official ruling of the game is.”

The queen rolled her eyes and sat down behind a huge desk covered with stacks of papers. “For the love of all that is holy. The game was interrupted less than ten minutes ago. How could they already have a coalition?”

The chicken stared at her for a few seconds. “They encountered a null pocket and used the time to form a list of grievances.”

Though she was beautiful, Demain looked like she was exhausted. Almost under her breath, she said, “Leave it to my people to use the unraveling of our world as a way to find more time to complain.” To the chicken she said, “Tell them the game is considered called as a result of outside interference, and we will schedule another tomorrow.”

The chicken bowed, which I think was her nodding. “They said if that was your decision, would their forms be offered up as compensation?”

Demain looked over at us, and I felt like the question was a lot worse than it sounded. Not that it sounded bad—it sounded like a bunch of nonsense—but I’ve learned in my time here, nonsense usually means bad things all around. “Tell the coalition that the terms of the games will not be changed, and that the punishment for interrupting it will be handled privately, since it involves affairs of state.”

Another bow from the chicken. “I’ll let them know, ma’am, but they won’t be pleased.”

She gave the chicken a sideways glance and said, “Tell them to adjust their meds.”

The secretary bowed-nodded her way out of the room, leaving us alone.

“I’d warn you against ever taking the throne, but from what I hear, that might not be a choice for you.” She locked eyes with Hawk. “How’s the revolution going?”

I was pissed. I mean, who the hell makes jokes at the expense of an entire species being attacked? My mouth had already opened to give her a piece of my mind when I felt Hawk hold me back mentally.

“It goes badly,” he said neutrally. “It will go even worse for you, though.”

Demain arched one eyebrow in response.

“Surely you know that the Dark won’t stop with our world; it is only the first step. How long do you think it will be before they come knocking on your door? No offense, Your Highness, but if you think a group of people complaining about a croquet game is bad, try explaining a war to them.”