Exile (20 page)

“We must…” Adran cut off when the door opened.

Hax stormed in wearing her full commander’s uniform, hair braided back out of the way. She was stripping off leather gauntlets as she entered, her helmet tucked under one arm. Sweeping the room with her pale eyes, she considered Ian for a second, and then settled her irritable gaze on Adran.

“What is the meaning of this? I was training recruits.”

“Please, sit,” Adran replied, gesturing to another empty chair.

Hax sat, but in her usual defiant manner chose a different chair from the one he had indicated. When she started to speak again, Adran gestured her to wait and, for a wonder, she glanced at Ian again and fell silent. Just when he thought her patience might wear thin, the door opened again and Lord Terral entered. He glanced around the room and took the edge of a seat, watching Adran expectantly, almost warily.

“I have called you here because Emperor Yiloch has been taken prisoner.”

“What?” Hax stood, her face darkening with murderous rage.

Adran gestured for her to wait again and she held her silence, but didn’t sit back down.

“The Lady Indigo and Lord Serivar arrived not an hour ago to see Emperor Yiloch. They handed him a missive and one of them was apparently carrying the secondary key for a Serroc prison. We need to try to get him back, but we must be careful. According to this missive, he is being held accountable for the assassinations of King Jerrin and his family.” Indignation flashed in Hax’s eyes, but she kept her silence at his look of warning. “We also need someone to be a figurehead in his absence to keep this situation under control until it is resolved.” He gave Terral a significant look. “As Yiloch’s cousin, you would be next in line to the throne. It makes sense to place you in position as emperor regent. I assume there are no objections.”

“I will do whatever is necessary to keep things operating smoothly until we get this mess straightened out,” Terral replied.

“Perhaps one of us should go to Demin,” Ian suggested.

“No,” Terral said even as Adran was shaking his head.

Terral fell silent and nodded to Adran, letting him explain. Adran looked at Ian. Despite the immense power the creator possessed, he looked disconcertingly young and vulnerable right then.

“We can send a missive, but they already have Yiloch, and we don’t know if Ferin and the three adepts who went with him are safe. We can’t afford to give them any more valuable captives. We will have to suffice with a simple messenger until we have more information.”

Terral sank back in his seat, gazing into the fire. “We’ll need to speak with Lord and Lady Vyram and Lady Auryl. The wedding is almost upon us. If he isn’t back soon, we have hundreds of guests to notify.”

Adran sighed. What he really wanted was to find a quiet spot to indulge his rage and anguish. Hax, with her more aggressive nature, would find someone to spar with when they finished here and would probably send that someone to bed with a limp. Perhaps he should volunteer to be that someone. A little physical pain would be a welcome distraction. She met his eyes and he saw his emotions mirrored there. Hax hadn’t been with Yiloch as long as he had, but she loved him as a leader and friend.

Adran turned to Ian and saw such despair in his expression that he had to look away. Like he and Hax, Ian had come to love Yiloch, but where they had all learned to like Indigo well enough, Ian had learned to love her almost as much as Yiloch did. The torment for him was twofold.

Then he met Terral’s eyes. There was distress in the man’s expression, but, even though he was Yiloch’s cousin, the two were never very close and the upset was less profound. Perhaps it would work in their favor to have someone less emotionally involved with the situation in a position of power. Adran had misgivings about the man, though he had no concrete reason for them. Regardless of those groundless uncertainties, Terral was Yiloch’s closest living relative. That made him the best option for a figurehead.

Adran refused to consider what would happen if Yiloch didn’t return. He had to return. The last time, when Emperor Rylan had imprisoned Yiloch, Adran lived day to day with a fading hope and a growing sense of emptiness. Then, at least, he had Eris to keep him going and bolster his failing optimism. Now she was gone. Without her, how could he hope to face the loss of the man he had built his life around, giving up every other ambition so he could stay by his side and serve him as a friend and subject? There was no other option. They had to get Yiloch back.

“First, we should prepare a created missive to send to Caithin’s new leadership. When that’s done, I will tell Lady Auryl that Yiloch was called away on urgent business and the wedding must be postponed. That will be what we tell everyone for now. He has left you in charge until his return,” he gestured to Terral who nodded. “We have a great deal of work to do. Let’s get to it.”

They all stood and Adran turned to Hax, who was already pulling her gauntlets back on.

“Would you care to spar later in the practice ring near the ocean terraces?”

Hax met his eyes for a long moment. She was better with a sword than he was and wasn’t known for taking pity on her opponents. Because of that, he rarely sparred with her, preferring not to lose the use of a limb in a practice match. Whatever she saw in his eyes now met her approval and she nodded.

“I would care to,” she replied. “Do you want me to speak with Lady Auryl?”

Adran was surprised to find that he could still choke out a laugh. “No, please. It should be dealt with delicately.”

Hax started to look insulted, then she grinned. “I suppose you’re right about that. I’ll head out to the practice ring in five hours.”

Adran nodded.

Adran, Terral, and Ian spent several hours working out the contents of the missive demanding Yiloch’s return and the right to investigate the accusations. Ian created it so that only the new King Gavin or his son, Lord Caplin, would be able to read its contents. When that was done, Adran went in search of Lady Auryl, dreading the meeting. He found her on a covered terrace accessible only from the throne room.

“My lady,” he started, his careful tone, a tone reserved for the sharing of bad news, drawing a worried look from her.

“What has happened, Lord Adran?”

“There was an incident in Demin involving Lord Ferin and his adepts. Yiloch has gone with a personal entourage to address the issue in order to preserve the peace with our Caithin allies.” Adran’s heart went out to her when her face fell with the understanding of what this news meant. Her gaze drifted out to the sea for a few minutes, moisture rising in her eyes, then she rallied, setting her head high and her shoulders back with determination worthy of an empress. If only Yiloch could see how suited she was to the role.

“Then the wedding is to be postponed?” His slight nod was sufficient confirmation. “So it must be. The affairs of an empire cannot be placed aside for a simple wedding.”

Adran chose not to point out that this particular wedding was an affair of the empire. “My lady, you are truly deserving of the station you will soon hold. All of this will be resolved quickly and your wedding will proceed without further delay.” He took her hands in his and gave them a gentle squeeze.

“Thank you, Lord Adran. Emperor Yiloch is fortunate to have you at his side.”

Adran could barely muster a smile, fighting hard not to let his worry show through. “I should speak with your parents.”

Auryl shook her head. “No. I will speak to them. I know how to deal with my father better than anyone.”

Relief struck him so hard at the thought of not having to deal with anyone else for now that it left him stumbling for words for a few seconds. Gratitude brought his smile back. “As you wish, Lady Auryl.”

As soon as he had taken leave of her, Adran went to his rooms to change and headed out to the practice ring near the ocean terraces. It was raining, which seemed appropriate for the occasion. Though it was earlier than their proposed meeting time, Hax was already there, sitting under a shelter constructed to allow observers to get out of the rain or sun. She had a flask in one hand and two more on the bench beside her. As he walked up, she took a long swig from the one she held and offered it to him. He accepted it, taking a long drink of the fiery liquid, a crude alcohol imported from Kudan. When he met her eyes, he could tell this wasn’t her first drink since they’d last parted ways. He spotted an empty flask discarded in one corner.

“Trying to even the odds are you?”

Hax grinned, a wicked gleam in her narrowed eyes. “Actually, I’m even less forgiving when I’ve had some drink.”

“Good, shall we start?”

Her expression softened, a rare glimmer of concern evident in her hesitation. “Are you sure? We could have sex instead. It’s just as satisfying and typically less painful. Have you ever slept with a woman, Adran?”

He grinned ruefully. “No, and I don’t intend to start today.”

“I could send for Leryc.”

“Leryc? Why Leryc?”

Hax only stared at him as though he’d spoken a foreign language and hundreds of moments rushed through his mind. Leryc always offering to help him with the most menial of tasks. Leryc constantly asking to watch him work so he could learn something about the political side of things. The way the new young captain smiled at him. The way he watched Adran’s hands with that hint of wistfulness that Adran always assumed meant he wasn’t really paying attention. The way he colored when Yiloch harassed Adran about his romantic preferences.

What a fool I am
. A spark of joy struck in the anger and sorrow that filled him then, a speck of light in the darkness. Perhaps later he would ask Leryc to help him in his rooms since he would undoubtedly be suffering some injury or other.

“Shall we?” He reached for a practice sword.

Hax shrugged, grabbed a sword, and walked out into the rain. After taking another long drink from the flask, Adran joined her.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Indigo breathed a sigh of relief once she was safe back in her residence. Here, in the silence of her rooms, she could take a little time to try to come up with a plan. There had to be something she could do, someone she could reason with. Caplin wasn’t going to help, which destroyed her best chance of fixing this through the proper procedures. He was far too willing to accept Yiloch’s guilt under the circumstances. Without Caplin’s backing, would his father even listen to her arguments?

There would also be no help from the academy, not with Serivar so obviously an advocate of Yiloch’s guilt. That left her few options other than trying to find help from someone in Lyra. Ignoring the very real danger that they would have her put to death on sight after her involvement in their emperor’s abduction, the time it would take to get to Lyra and back might be more time than Yiloch had, given how swift Caithin justice was moving.

Caithin justice indeed
. Righteous fury burned through her until she forced herself to step back and reconsider.

How could she be right when the rest of the King’s Order and the Ascard Watchmen were all coming to a conclusion of guilt? She was more powerful in base ascard strength than any one of them, but there must be specialist adepts among them with the ability to dig through a false trail to find the truth. Then again, not one of them would have enough personal knowledge of Yiloch to doubt that this was his doing. They had no motivation to dig any deeper than necessary to confirm what they already suspected. If what she had heard so far was any indication, this subterfuge was masterfully arranged.

But what if he really is guilty?
She scowled at the created window, twisting his mother’s ring around her finger.
I must know that for myself before I condemn him.

She sat in one of the plush chairs and wracked her mind for viable alternatives. The only option that held any hope of success was that of freeing Yiloch and Ferin herself. That option, however, wouldn’t convince anyone of their innocence. It would only implicate her in the crimes. If she did such a thing, would she really be helping anyone? She certainly wouldn’t be helping herself. It might buy her time to investigate the assassinations, but it would be harder to do so as a wanted criminal. She had her considerable ascard connection in her favor, but she needed to decide how to best use that power in this situation.

As evening fell outside, she leaned back in the chair, staring through the fireplace and deep into the churning tangle of thoughts that made her head ache. She lit a candle to ward off darkness and drew her knees in to her chest, chewing at her lip while she considered every possible option, finding compelling reasons to discard each new idea as fast as she could come up with them.

How much time did she have before they executed Ferin?

The sound of footsteps on the stairs tickled at the edge of her consciousness. It was important that she acknowledge the sound, but she still hadn’t solved her dilemma and the distraction was unwelcome. When the sound finally drove into her awareness like an arrowhead piercing the skin, she glanced at the door in alarm. She didn’t recall bolting it and that quick glance confirmed that she hadn’t done so. Jumping up from the chair, she reached out with a tendril of ascard, jerking it back when the door flew open before she could correct her mistake.

Jayce stormed in, slamming the door behind him, his face flushed with wrath or drink, or both.

“How could you disgrace me like this?” he snarled, the slight slur in his speech confirming the excess of drink involved.

Her heart pounded and she stepped back, realizing too late that it would be her second mistake of the evening.

Encouraged by her show of fear, Jayce sneered and came forward.

“Jayce,” she managed a soothing tone despite the tremor of remembered fear that vibrated through her. “Let this go. It’s over and done with.” She opened to more ascard, feeling that power fill her. As she did so, she also checked her masking to be sure she wouldn’t draw attention if she had to use it against him.