SpellBreaker: First Ordinance, Book 4 (4 page)

"You read me?" I blinked at her.

"Yes. Sorry, but that was information I needed to know. It confirmed my suspicions. Now I know what's keeping me awake at night."

"Your only concern was to protect the throne?" I asked.

"When you have terrible nightmares of what may come if you don't," she said, "Then yes, my concern—and my self-appointed mission—is to protect the rightful King of Karathia and his son, the Prince."

"Jeez-Louise," I muttered one of Gran's favorite phrases while rubbing my forehead.

"Look, I can't see past a Sirenali's fog any better than anyone else," she said. "But that doesn't mean I'm not working on ways to get around it."

"Will you keep me updated?" I asked. "And I apologize for the paperweight incident. That was a stupid thing to do."

"You call what a Sirenali can do a fog?" Gran, who was also in this impromptu meeting with Ilya, Daragar and me, asked.

"It's what it looks like when I see their obsession in someone," Zaria replied. "Like their brain has been fogged and all they know from that point forward is whatever obsession has been planted there."

"We see it as much the same," Daragar admitted. "It is impossible to see through; there is information in the Archives concerning such."

"Where did you see someone who'd been obsessed?" Gran asked.

"On my way home from the market," she said. "On Tulgalan. Three men ran down the street toward me, while Targis' constables raced after them. I dropped my shield long enough to attempt to read them. That attempt was futile—I only saw the fog. Then, the one who'd obsessed them appeared from nothing. By that time, I'd transported myself to a safer place so I wouldn't be caught in the weapons crossfire. That didn't mean I couldn't read the Sirenali, however, who had murder and thievery on his mind. He disappeared with one of the culprits; the constables captured the other two, who suddenly dropped dead on the walkway and exploded. This incident is recorded in the constable's records; the three constables present would have died if I hadn't thrown a shield about them at the last moment."

"Dear God," Gran muttered. "Did the dreams start after that?"

"Shortly after, yes."

"Can you describe the Sirenali you saw?"

"Do you have paper?" she asked.

Gran
Pulled
in several sheets of paper. We watched as Zaria placed her hand on the top sheet. An image appeared beneath her fingers. It was an advanced spell that few warlocks or witches could do; it required perfect recall. Somehow, I wasn't surprised that the Q'elindi could do it.

"I'll hand this to Kooper," Gran said. "Although I worry that this Sirenali may have ordered someone to change his appearance by now."

"I will know him if I ever see him again," Zaria said. "If I understand things properly, Quin may also know."

"She will," I said, lowering my gaze. I did—and didn't—understand Zaria's reluctance to come to Dad before. It wasn't until Karathia was threatened that she'd made her way to the palace, and then, she'd applied to be a cook's assistant.

She probably found the prospect of serving the crown until the end of time somewhat
smothering
, Gran pointed out in mindspeech.

Try being royal—wait, you are
, I teased back.

I hear that. She probably realized early on what going to see your father would entail. It's a shame in some ways and perfectly understandable in others. For now, I'd rather keep her where she is—guarding you and Quin. She seems happy enough to do that
, Gran said.
If you keep her at your side, I can't imagine there'll be many unwelcome surprises coming in your direction.

True and exactly what I was thinking
, I responded.

"Zaria," I said aloud, "I'd like to keep you where you are—guarding Quin and me. I hope that's agreeable to you, too."

"It is, or I'd have said no in the beginning," she said.

"You need to keep this to yourselves," Daragar warned. "A Q'elindi would be considered a great prize to many, most of whom have less than legitimate reasons to want one."

"I can take care of myself," Zaria grumped.

"Honey," Gran turned to me, "Make sure the others can't say what Zaria is. Her kind are a myth and legend to most people."

"Karathian Witch, Third-level it is," I declared. "That's what she is—to all of us—from now on. I'll let Dad know, but he'll keep the secret, too."

"Come on, we have ships to stock and outfit," Gran said, rising from her chair. "Seven is the largest in the fleet, I think you should take that one," she added.

"Then we'll take seven," I agreed.

* * *

Ilya

I stole several glances at Zaria as we walked out of Queen Lissa's private study, but she ignored me. Again, the sadness flitted across her face and I guessed that Daragar had announced to all of us what she'd have preferred to keep secret.

I'd studied Karathian history extensively; I knew of the handful of Q'elindi who'd served the throne throughout the millennia. None had ever gone out to do battle, before. This one—she'd already said the King and Prince were in danger. If a Q'elindi predicted it, one should heed her words.

A new respect was growing for a certain witch, and I felt guilty for judging her on her beauty before I learned anything else about her.

* * *

Avii Castle

Quin

Kaldill and I were waiting until Bel Erland arrived before having dinner; we wanted to hear what his decisions were on Zaria as much as anyone else. I wanted her to stay with me—for purely selfish reasons. I liked her, and there weren't many guards I'd willingly accept.

That she was Q'elindi surprised me greatly, and likely accounted for the fact that I couldn't read her. After all, only a few Q'elindi had ever been born. Zaria was the only one living, to my knowledge.

Bel Erland wore the biggest smile when he arrived with Ilya and Zaria. You'd think he'd been given the best gift ever. In seconds, his father, King Rylend, his grandfather, Erland Morphis, and two royal guards also arrived.

We'd have to add a few chairs to Justis' dining table, but that wouldn't be a problem.

* * *

Zaria

I had a private meeting with King Rylend and his father, Erland, after dinner. I was offered a glass of wine but declined; I didn't want wine clouding my thoughts when I spoke to the King.

Yes, I'd felt shaky most of the day, after Daragar spilled my secret. I'd done my best to hide my dismay—after all, if nobody is expecting what you can do, the greater the threat you can become to them.

I didn't want the enemy knowing what I was. For many reasons.

"We're not going to command you," Rylend began after we settled on comfortable chairs in Justis' sitting room. "But we'd like to hire you for certain events and court dates in the future. You'll be well-paid for your services," he added.

"I'll think on that," I replied, struggling to keep my voice even. "I'd like to eliminate this threat, first, before we make any agreements about the future."

"Understandable," Erland nodded. "We'll present this again," he promised. "At the proper time. Just keep my grandson safe."

"I intend to do just that—he and Quin," I agreed. "I will give my life to keep them safe."

"We can't ask more than that," Rylend said. "And I thank you for your dedication."

"There's something you should know," I said.

"What's that?" the King asked.

"It has to do with my past, and the trauma I experienced," I said. "I get shaky now and then—the doctor calls it trauma-induced-anxiety, but it doesn't affect me other than making me shake," I said. "I just want you to know that ahead of time—in the interest of full disclosure."

"I remember Didge and the attack by the Ra'Ak," Erland looked grim. "I'm not surprised you were affected by all that."

I wasn't about to tell him that Didge didn't cause my trauma. Other things caused it, but those were my secrets to keep.

* * *

Ilya

"You're staying?" I asked as Zaria appeared outside Quin's sitting room.

"That's the plan," she said. "I think we're moving to BlackWing VII in the next day or so," she added. She sounded as if she were exhausted.

"I'll be fine," she waved off my unspoken concern. "I'll see if Quin needs anything before I go to bed."

She knocked on the door and went in when Quin answered. Only a few moments passed before she was out the door again and heading toward her bedroom.
Good-night
, I sent to her.

Thanks,
she replied softly and disappeared inside her suite.

* * *

Quin

"I have five suitable outfits," Zaria replied to my question at breakfast. "I probably should buy another pair of boots."

"Ilya?" I turned to him. "What about you?"

"I could use new boots."

"I take," Yanzi offered. "Terrett come, too."

"Yanzi, take them to Falchan," Lafe said. "I'll come with you. They ought to have boots with a knife sheath, I think."

"Good," Yanzi agreed. "We get things for Quin, too."

That's how I ended up with Lafe, Yanzi and Terrett on Falchan, where leather goods were sold. Lafe steered us away from the shops where tourists bought; we ended up on the edge of Cedar Falls, where the leather workers took orders and sold to the locals.

"Hmm, small," the shop owner studied Zaria and me. "I have something that will work," he added. Ilya already had three new sets of leathers—they'd waited on him, first.

"I can alter these in the waist and shorten them," the shop owner nodded as Zaria and I tried on leather pants meant for a tall, slender boy.

"There's no need, I can do it," Ilya offered. "It's a simple spell," he nodded to the man.

"You're Karathian?" the shop owner asked.

"He is, but he trained on Falchan," Lafe explained. "He has the tattoos to prove it."

"Have I heard of you?" the shop owner turned to Ilya.

"Ilya Ironsmith," Ilya extended his hand.

"I have heard of you," the shop owner nodded. "The warlock who refused to employ his spells in battle, unless the General commanded."

"It wasn't fair to do otherwise," Ilya remarked. "I was on loan from the Karathian King until recently," he added.

"Ah, yes. I've heard that tale. I will give a fourth of your money back if you will make the necessary alterations for these," he nodded toward Zaria and me.

"I'll accept that," Ilya agreed.

I watched as the alterations were performed on my clothing first—the hems fell where they should and the waist tightened. Then, Ilya turned to Zaria.

"Not too tight in the crotch," Zaria warned before Ilya performed the spell.

"I know better," he grinned before taking up her leathers so they fit properly. He did the same for three more outfits each, then we left the shop owner behind and went in search of boots.

"Comp-vid pouch on one side, knife sheath on the other," the bootmaker showed us what he had. The comp-vid pouch was designed for one of the smaller brands, which would fit easily if I wanted to carry one.

"Two pair, brown and black for this one," Ilya held a finger over Zaria's head. "And whatever Quin wants, of course."

Terrett, Yanzi and Lafe bought things, too, so everyone went home with something.

"We're scheduled to be on BlackWing VII before lunch tomorrow," Kaldill announced when we arrived at Avii Castle with our bundles. "Queen Lissa says to let her know what we need to get it outfitted and into the shipping lanes after that."

* * *

Avii Castle

Ilya

I'd never served on a ship before; I'd only traveled on one twice in my lifetime. Folding space was much faster and a more elegant mode of transportation. I admitted to myself that this wasn't a crowded passenger ship, like I'd been on in the past. I hoped there'd be private quarters and room to walk freely throughout the vessel.

All my missions—if you could call them that, had been on Falchan's plains and in its mountains, as a scout or in small raiding parties, searching for marauders from the other side of the mountains. I hoped a closed-in space wouldn't adversely affect my capabilities, as I'd probably need my warlock's talents rather than a warrior's skills.

Therefore, I went in search of Caylon Black, to ask about the ship's schematics. He would have them, as he was placed in charge of the ship and any missions performed by the crew, with Salidar DeLuca acting as Second-in Command.

The pilots hadn't been named as yet, and I imagined they'd join our group aboard ship. I found Caylon and Salidar in the castle library, poring over the ship's schematics with Gurnil, the Blue Wing Master Scholar.

"It's big," Sal said, lifting his gaze from the three-dimensional image splayed across a table by his comp-vid. "Enough berths for everyone, including the pilots, although a few will bunk together—there's more than one bed in several berths."

"Not enough room for Quin to fly, but there is a small exercise room, a galley and dining area," Caylon pointed to those sections at the back of the ship. "Three decks," he pointed those out. "Engine and propulsion here," he indicated the back section of the lower deck. "Command Center on the upper deck," he tapped the smaller, appropriate space. "Room in the command center for two pilots and a captain, plus two or three others," he added. "It's a big ship, with berths, galley and dining on the second deck. I figure Kaldill or Daragar will shield the ship from normal sight. Terrett will keep it hidden from anyone powerful enough to scry for it."

I blinked at Caylon's remark, only then realizing that the mute Terrett was Sirenali. "He has mindspeech," Caylon said, as if reading my mind. "He speaks very well that way."

"Good to know," I mumbled. "Does Zaria have this information? Wait, that was a stupid question," I held up a hand before Caylon could point out the obvious. It probably wasn't necessary to inform the Q'elindi about anyone she'd already met.

* * *

Le-Ath Veronis

Queen's Palace