Sworn To Transfer (7 page)

Stephanie snorted. “You’ve got a lot to learn. Scandal always trumps murder. The only thing better is if it’s a scandalous murder.”

Heading over to the door, Stephanie said, “Let’s go; I’ve got something to show you.”

Biting her tongue, Ciardis put away the cleaning supplies, changed her clothes, and put the glaive back in its corner. On her way past the nightstand, she grabbed a small dagger and a wrist sheath to hold it. With one last look at her bedroom, she followed Stephanie out. They left the palace through a side entrance and went across the bridge to the nobility’s quarters.

It was the quarter that Stephanie had moved to after being inducted as a full Companion and receiving a Patron. As they walked through the tree-lined streets, Ciardis expected them to go into one of the beautiful mansions. But as they ducked in and out of side rows, cut across lawns, and finally ended up in the artisan’s district, she had more concerns about where they were going than why.

“Where are you taking—”

Stephanie held up a silencing hand. She ducked behind another building into an alley filthier than the last. Ciardis had no choice but to follow. Not if she wanted answers. As they raced up the back stairs of a derelict building Ciardis caught glimpses of soldiers spreading out through a crowd in the market square. A man was giving them directions and groups were peeling off to go down different streets. They were looking for someone.

For me
? she thought in a panic.
Do they know about the dead assassin? How could they know?

Stephanie opened the door to a room. Well, “opened” was a nice way to put it; she had to kick in the door after the latch caught on something. “Damn piece of junk,” she murmured as they went inside. Ciardis took in the dust, the cobwebs, and the mothballed sheets covering everything with distaste. It was an artist’s studio long abandoned. Wood easels leaned on the walls and half-finished paintings covered in cobwebs stood in testament to an artist long gone. Ciardis hiked up her new sleeves to ensure none of the dirt got on the long, trailing fabric. There was nothing she could do about the bottom of her skirt except pray.

Closing the door and facing Ciardis, Stephanie asked, “What do you want to be, Ciardis?”

This sounded familiar. “A great Companion—”

Stephanie waved her hand. “No bullshit.”

“I wish you’d stop interrupting me,” Ciardis snapped.

“Look—”

“No,” Ciardis said, standing up straight. Her eyes turned steely as she propped her hands firmly on her waist, trailing fabric forgotten in the heat of the moment. “I’ve had just about enough of this. I was nearly murdered this morning. I’m being targeted and I want to know how to fix it.”

Stephanie waited a moment to see if her tirade had finished. “Fix it?” she said dryly while trailing a finger through dust that had been gathering on a cabinet top for at least a year.

“You can’t fix it,” Stephanie continued, “What you can do is
control
it...with help. The problem is your powers. You try to help Prince Sebastian and somehow your magical interference ends up spilling over to enhance more than you intended.”

A knock interrupted their conversation, echoing in the room. It sounded like it was coming from behind the wall. Stephanie walked over and opened up a panel in the back of the room.

Out walked a young man with blue eyes, black hair, and a radiant smile.

“Took you long enough,” he said jovially while dusting off his pants.

Stephanie rolled her eyes and examined her fingernails for dirt. She was studiously avoiding his gaze. There was something going there. Ciardis could feel it. The man cleared his throat, looked over at Ciardis, and introduced himself as Christian Somner.

“Well, Christian, are you in on this, too?” Ciardis said.

“In on what?” he said with a polite grin.

“This shadow organization that wants to make me not me.”

Before Stephanie could interrupt, Christian said, “The Shadow Council doesn’t want to
change
you; we want to mold you.”

Ciardis grinned, triumphant; she had just gotten him to reveal the group. Stephanie slapped him on the back of the head. “You idiot! She wasn’t supposed to know the name.”

He looked over, miffed. “But she said...”

“I was fishing,” Ciardis admitted smugly.

He rolled his eyes. “Well, now that you know the name. What do you truly know about what we are?”

“Nothing,” she admitted.

“Exactly,” he said with his own triumphant eye roll at Stephanie.

She didn’t let go of the glare plastered on her face. “You started this. Why don’t you go right on ahead and finish it?” Let him stick his foot in the stink. She wasn’t going to be in trouble when the Shadow Council heard about it.

Ciardis eyed them both warily. She’d never heard of the Shadow Council. Who were they? What were their goals? Were they a threat to Sebastian or an ally? She knew that today she would find out something about them but the lingering question remained: would it be enough to trust them? To trust Stephanie? The woman had been an excellent fighter during her years as a Companion trainee, but the Companions’ Guild didn’t prepare you to kill someone or dispose of the body. And yet she’d done both without blinking an eye. Not to mention this weird and stealthy way she had about going through the city streets. What did she have to hide?

Besides Companions were skilled, but they weren’t
that
skilled.

“The Shadow Council is an elite organization of mages created to protect the realm. We recruit the most talented individuals across the land for missions and assignments to ensure that the stability and peace of as well as the security of the empire is always assured,” Christian explained.

Ciardis raised her eyebrows at the rather lofty goals of his Shadow Council.

“Isn’t it the
gardis
and military’s role to protect the realm? To ensure peace?”

“It is,” he said. “But the
gardis
’s primary role as the guardians of the realm are to police the city and countryside to ensure general peace. And the military is fighting the battle in the North and has been for quite a while. In the end they cannot do so alone. We have the power and the strength to assure that things are dealt with quickly and secretly.”

Secretly? Ciardis was uneasy about this. They sounded more like an assassin’s league than a council
.

“How would you go about that?”

He wagged his finger in rebuke. “I think that’s enough about the Shadow Council for now. Just know that we are on your side.”

“Don’t lie to her,” interjected Stephanie.

He corrected, “Or, rather, Stephanie and I are on your side.”

With a frown, he continued, “There are some in the organization who would prefer you dead.”

“I only just heard about the duke’s plans to kill you this morning,” said Stephanie. “The Council has known about it for days.”

“Is that why you came?” questioned Ciardis. “You went against them to save me?”

Stephanie said softly, “No, sweetheart, we’re here because they decided to give you a second chance. Change your ways, or next time the Shadow Council will be the one to put a contract out on you.”

S
tephanie was kind enough to escort Ciardis back to the gates of the Companions’ Guild. As they parted ways and Stephanie began to walk away, she turned back and quickly reached into her pocket for something. Pushing it into Ciardis’s hand, she said, “Flick this open if you need me in an emergency. And you
will
need me. Until then, see you around.” And then she was gone.

Unfortunately, just because Ciardis had a death sentence hanging over her head didn’t mean she could shirk her duties. Lady Vana and Lady Serena were waiting in the outer solar room for her. When she arrived, more bedraggled than usual, it raised eyebrows. But thankfully no one aside from Terris, Lady Vana’s Companion trainee and Ciardis’s best friend, was concerned enough to question her about it.

“What happened to you? Did you fall into a ditch again?” asked Terris with frank appraisal while their sponsors set up the afternoon’s activities on the other side of the garden.

“No,” said Ciardis, pouting. “That only happened
once
.”

“And it’s a day that no one will ever forget,” Terris said with a giggle as she swung a friendly arm about her friend’s shoulders. “The Incident,” as Ciardis liked to refer to it in private, would have been hilarious and something they could have whispered over into the night—if it had happened to someone else.

She had been riding with the Imperial hunting party on a chilly day as they scouted for boar. The meat from the animal was a nice delicacy that would be on the dinner table that cold night. Riding with the party she’d been ambitious and hoped to be noticed for talents beyond her magical abilities – like her graceful riding skills. Which was why she’d chosen to ride sidesaddle. But even a slow pace turned out to be more difficult than she imagined.

Unfortunately that day she’d gotten excited, kneed her mare into a canter, and gone tumbling into the bushes in full view of the Imperial party. She had been humiliated and, what was worse, she’d spooked the mare so badly that it had refused to let her mount back up. She’d ridden double with a kind knight the whole way back to the palace, her face flaming.

Ciardis waved her hand impatiently to dispel the embarrassing memories.

“What are we in for today?” she said in exasperation.

The darker skinned girl shrugged. “I’m not sure, but Vana and Serena are excited about it.”

Lady Vana called out, “Girls, girls, come over here!”

As they walked toward her, they saw that servants had set out a tall object with a cloth hanging over it. As they walked Ciardis noted with admiration that Terris had woven beautiful beads into her thick black hair which clanked together with her every step. Ciardis tried to ask her how her Patron Hunt was going, she knew that Terris had narrowed her choice down to two candidates, but didn’t have enough time. When they reached the two sponsors, Vana pulled off the cloth to reveal a full-length mirror.

“Today we’re going to work on presentation and illusion,” said Serena. “You both will soon be presented to court and before the Companions Council as the Companion of an esteemed Patron. Terris, I’ve been told that you’ve yet to decide on your Patron. Is that correct?”

Terris nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I believe it’s an important decision and I’d like to take some more time to get to know my suitors.”

“Which is a perfectly acceptable choice for such a large commitment,” Lady Serena said smoothly. In the meantime, Ciardis watched the conversation with boredom and dismay. She loved the pretty dresses and the pageantry of being a Companion, but surely there was more to it than this. And on top of that, she was being targeted for murder. Did Lady Serena even know? What was more, did she care?

No wonder my mother ran away
, she thought bitterly,
I wonder what she thought of this? What was it like for her?
And then it was if a light clicked on in Ciardis’s head – she was surprised that she hadn’t thought of it sooner
.
She had had very few memories of her mother from before she became an orphan but that didn’t mean others didn’t. At the first ball of the Patron Hunt she had met someone who
had
known her mother. In fact that someone was still at court: the duke of Carne!

Ciardis tuned out of Lady Serena’s instructions, which mostly pertained to how to use refracted light to subtlety enhance yourself. Perhaps knowing more about her mother and the history of the Weathervanes could help her control those powers.

“Lady Serena,” said Ciardis politely once Serena had stopped speaking, “I was asked to call upon the duke of Carne’s event this afternoon. If you would be so kind as to allow me use of the carriage for the evening?”

“Really?” said Lady Vana, “Terris was invited for afternoon salon, as well.”

Ciardis had a moment of panic. Looking over at her protégé, Vana said, “My dear, you didn’t tell me that Ciardis would be coming along.”

Terris glanced over at Ciardis at the corner of eye in time to catch a look of panic cross her face. She knew that Ciardis hadn’t been invited to come along. They would have been in their rooms planning their dresses for hours if she had. But she wasn’t going to leave her friend hanging in the wind either.

“Oh yes, Milady,” she quickly said, “An invitation was sent; it just arrived later than usual.” She squeezed Ciardis’s hand in reassurance. “We are both meant to attend.”

“Very well,” said Serena, oblivious.

Lady Vana pursed her mouth dissatisfied. She knew the two trainees were hiding something, she just had to hope that whatever it was couldn’t be too bad. After all Terris was an excellent protégé and role model for other trainees. She’d never get into the sort of displays that Ciardis did.

“I expect a full report from you in the morning,” Vana instructed.

“Yes, ma’am,” they said together to their respective sponsors.

As they headed off to the outdoor salon, Ciardis took a moment to change. Certain times called for presentable clothes, and certain times called for drop-dead gorgeous attire. This was the latter. She was going to meet not only the duke of Carne and his family, but he also held court with the oldest noble families of Sandrin. They were sure to be in attendance. None would miss an afternoon soirée in the duke of Carne’s salon if they could help it. He was known for his intellectual gatherings once a month, and they were always the talk of the city for weeks afterward.

He had been known to invite authors, artists, military officials, and even diplomats to speak on the various topics and host discussions surrounding their chosen fields. That being said, many of the attendees came to the soirée to see and be seen. Intellect was a fashionable accessory in the high courts, education being highly favored by the emperor, but you didn’t have to be smart to be able to repeat intelligent phrases. As they swept down the long colonnade to the outdoor gazebo where the event was being held, Ciardis fought the distinct urge to tug on her dress—a bad habit she’d been trying to break since she arrived as a trainee at the Companions’ Guild. It wasn’t that the dress itched or was uncomfortable; merely that she was nervous and needed something to do with her hands.