Finder: First Ordinance, Book One (20 page)

I had no idea how that could be accomplished.

Satellite was a word I had never encountered before. I learned that Kondar had sent small mechanical devices high into the air, where they circled Siriaa constantly and enabled communications and images to be sent to other machines throughout Kondar.

How could anyone in Fyris imagine something so complex? While I pondered that conundrum, the warning came. I'd seen Chen's death too late. Would they hear me now? I had to try.

* * *

Wolter stood over the kitchen boy, fists on hips as he oversaw the final cleaning of the worktable. The boy had made the attempt twice already, with unsatisfactory results.

Wolter
, a voice shouted in his mind.
You and the Prince, in danger! He is in the stables. Run. Now!

Without knowing why, Wolter yanked a long knife from a nearby block and raced through the kitchen's back door, his long legs carrying him quickly toward the stable.

* * *

"My cousin did murder, several times, of other family members," the recruit claimed after tossing the numbered cubes. "Five. Not good." He handed the cubes to his fellow recruit with a shake of his head.

Amlis listened carefully. Whatever was said by the recruits described Yevil's behavior instead of the designated family member. "Others not related were killed while hunting or gaming. The women he killed died after he bedded them."

"More than one had gaping chest wounds when he was done," the second recruit offered as he threw the cubes. "Eight. Terrible."

Amlis and Rodrik knew the numbers cited did not correspond to those on the cubes. They were describing the instances in which they knew of Yevil's killings.

"How old were you when you learned of this?" Amlis asked.

"Nine," one responded.

"Seven," the other answered. "My father said other deaths came before, but I don't have that information."

"My Prince?" Hirill pushed open the door of Garth's stable room.

"Hirill?" Amlis rose from his crouching position at the cube game and quirked an eyebrow at Hirill. He hadn't informed Hirill of the evening's activities, but assumed that Garth must have passed a message along. His guards had allowed Hirill to pass by, unhindered, on his way to the stables.

"This." The knife Hirill drew was long and sharp as he rushed the Prince. Amlis threw up an arm as Rodrik pulled his blade and shouted. Amlis' arm was struck and he cried out.

Hirill's arm went slack and his eyes rolled back before he could shove the blade farther into Amlis' flesh. When he dropped face-first at Amlis' feet, Amlis and Rodrik stared at Wolter and the bloody kitchen knife in his hand.

* * *

I'd known Hirill wasn't to be trusted. All along, he'd kept Yevil apprised of Amlis' movements. Yevil cared not that a message was sent to the Avii—he knew there would be no reply.

One traitor was dead, but that would put Yevil on alert. That frightened me. As much danger as the Prince was in before; that had just increased ten-fold.

I realized, too, that Yevil was more than aware of what ailed Fyris. Did he keep that knowledge from the King, or did the King choose not to accept it?

At least Wolter heard my mental shout and acted on it. I'd placed him in more danger as well, but if I hadn't, he'd have died on the flagstone floor of the King's kitchen.

* * *

"None of us are safe." Amlis gripped a wine cup in his healthy hand while Garth wrapped the other, wounded arm with clean strips of cloth.

"My Prince, I have sent for Chen's brother to remove the body in secret. I believe the same knife was used to kill Chen," Rodrik poured more wine into Amlis' cup. "The recruits want to serve you. They are waiting outside the door. What shall I tell them?"

"Put them to work as extra guards or manservants, I care not which. Make sure they know not to talk."

"I think they knew that already," Rodrik snorted. "My question is this—how do we send a message to your mother, telling her of this treachery?"

"Something to consider," Amlis nodded. "Where's Wolter?"

"Outside, with the recruits."

"Do any of ours have experience in a kitchen?" Amlis grimaced as Garth wrapped his arm tightly to lessen the bleeding.

"I may have one."

"Then send him in as an assistant. Tell him to carry a knife in his boot. Always. Wolter saved my life. I will repay that, if I can. Tell him he is welcome in my presence anytime."

"I will." Rodrik walked away to deliver messages.

* * *

I slept poorly, even knowing that Wolter and Amlis were safe for the moment. Dreading what was ahead for me, I showered, combed my still-short hair as neatly as I could, then made my way toward Halthea's suite and my new assignment.

Halthea waited for me, a stiff wooden rod in her hand when I appeared early for work inside her suite. Without a word, she whacked me several times between my shoulder blades while I cowered in pain.

"That will show you what waits anytime you disobey or fail to do a proper job," Halthea snapped when the beating stopped. "You will address me as Queen Halthea in my presence, but only when we are alone, do you hear?"

"Yes, Queen Halthea."

"Good. I want my closet organized. I want colors separated, with matching shoes beneath, hear? Do it quickly." With that, she fluffed red feathers and stalked out of her suite.

My back stung from the blows as I made my way to her massive closet. The large space was packed, front to back and top to bottom with dresses, tunics, split skirts, shoes, ribbons and anything else a highborn might possess.

The two Yellow Wings gazed at me with mixtures of fear and revulsion. I'd held back from using my talent, as I had no desire to know what they truly thought of me. It might lessen the pain in the long term when they abused me as well, just as so many others had.

Without speaking, I walked into the closet and began my day as Halthea's newest drudge.

* * *

"Halthea wanted her," Jurris shrugged, keeping his Red-Winged back pointed toward his half-brother.

Justis stood behind Jurris on Jurris' private balcony while they waited for tea to be served. Jurris chose to watch the waters surrounding Avii Castle instead of turning toward his brother.

"She was better off where she was," Justis pointed out. "Learning from Ordin, so she wouldn't appear a fool to those in Kondar. Surely Halthea can see the sense in that."

"What does it matter what the Kondari think?" Jurris rustled his wings.

"It may matter a great deal, as we ask such a high price for what Quin provides."

"You think they'll stop asking, or run short of those who are ill?"

"No. I worry that the High President may forbid it, if he learns we're mistreating the provider."

"You think that's possible?"

"I've worked my way through their laws concerning citizens' rights, although it was a long and tedious process. Their language is a difficult one, yet Quin speaks it with ease. The High President is responsible for several of those laws regarding fair treatment of Kondari citizens. If he learns you attempted to kill Quin when she first arrived, he may reconsider the relationship between Aviia and Kondar. If you explain Fyris to him, you know where that might lead."

"Then what do you suggest, brother? I've never known you to take an interest in any woman, let alone an unknown half-blood."

"I am merely attempting to protect you, Halthea and an asset," Justis growled. "If Kondar considers us an enemy, it won't matter that we can fly. Their machines fly faster, and can be more deadly than I prefer to consider."

"I feel Halthea will tire quickly of her new acquisition. Leave it for two or three weeks, then I'll make a suggestion to place the girl elsewhere." Jurris turned to frown at Justis. "I hear your words, but Halthea must be cajoled into seeing reason."

Justis wanted to tell Jurris what he thought of cajoling Halthea, but wisely held back his retort.

* * *

Only half of Halthea's closet was organized at the end of six hours, which warranted a second beating and a promise of more the next day. It mattered not that it would have taken any other nearly twice as long to accomplish what I had—it only mattered that the work wasn't completed.

The second beating drew blood on my back, but I was unaware of it until Ordin examined my skin when I arrived in his study for my assignment. He scrutinized my back with a tightened mouth and a deep frown furrowing his brow, but didn't say anything against the Red-Winged Princess.

Instead, he washed the bruised and abraded skin, then applied salve to the wound. "Your feathers are longer, and the colors on the tips are more pronounced," he sighed as he leaned back in his chair and wiped his hands on a towel. "I've never seen any of our feathers carry gold, silver and copper bands on the edges. The colors are always consistent throughout."

"Might that be attributed to the cutting?" I asked, turning to face Master Ordin.

"I know not, as I've never seen wings grow after they've been deliberately cut. The Avii would never consider such a thing. Only Fyris would do this kind of evil, after that pretender took the throne."

I longed to tell Ordin what had transpired in Fyris the night before, but held back. It would only be another reason to despise all of them, and that weight was already heavy enough.

"Master Ordin, a message for you." Justis walked in carrying a paper envelope. "This was delivered with the equipment I ordered for the guards."

I understood what Justis wouldn't say in my presence—that someone hadn't wanted this particular message to go through royal hands before it reached Ordin.

"Quin, take this and read it on the terrace," Ordin handed the book to me that I'd been studying with a nod. "Make notes as usual, and I'll address your questions later."

"Yes, Master Ordin." With the briefest of glances in Justis' direction, I held the book to my chest and walked out of Ordin's study.

* * *

"I wish we could make paper as fine as this," Ordin muttered as he opened the sealed envelope and withdrew the contents.

"What does it say?" Justis asked.

"It says the puzzle continues to be a puzzle, only a much larger one. Quin isn't connected to anyone in Fyris. Any connection she might have with the Avii is inconclusive." Ordin handed the paper to Justis.

"You had them check?" Justis' brows lifted in surprise.

"I wanted to know. Sit down, I'll explain," Ordin sighed.

* * *

"I don't know what to think," Justis huffed. Gurnil had joined him and Ordin at Ordin's request, after Ordin explained Quin's unusual past. "You say the timing is right?"

"As far as we can tell, and no half-blood in my knowledge has ever grown wings."

"They'd be red, wouldn't they?"

"They were cut away so many times by those imbeciles, who knows what color—if any—they might retain? They'll be white, there's no doubt about that, but the bands of copper, silver and gold? I've never seen anything like it." Ordin shook his head as if he couldn't believe it, either.

"Elabeth was beautiful. Quin is lovely as well. Can we say what Lirin might have looked like, had she reached adulthood?" Gurnil asked.

"We have to keep this quiet. If there's any possibility," Justis ruffled his feathers and his eyes clouded with anger. "The bitch has her now. If Halthea learns of this, Quin will die in a matter of hours."

"What can we do, then?" Ordin asked.

"Hope that she lives through the next three weeks," Justis growled.

* * *

Dena had raced after Master Gurnil—he'd left a book out on a Library table that belonged in his private study, and she worried that it shouldn't be left out. After placing the book where none would see it unless they searched diligently, she flew toward Master Ordin's terrace, finding Quin deep in a book.

She waved briefly at Quin before going inside, to find Ordin's study door shut. Without meaning to, she caught words she was never meant to hear. She stayed to listen to most of the conversation before retreating and flying back to Gurnil's terrace.

Could it be?
She wondered. She recognized the fear in Justis' voice when he'd uttered those words—if Halthea learned what Quin might be, then Quin would die. Dena's heartbeat still hadn't calmed, so she leaned against a Library wall, a hand to her chest, willing her heart to settle into a normal rhythm.

"I can't ever repeat this," Dena whispered. It could be the death of her, too, if word got out. Halthea would kill anyone who knew.

* * *

"You know how to make fish stew? Do it and let me taste," Wolter said. He wasn't sure what to think of the man-at-arms that Amlis placed in his kitchen, but Deeds certainly knew how to peel and chop vegetables, and had already helped bake bread for the midday meal.

"I heard Finder worked for you before beginning her service for the Prince," Deeds said quietly as he filleted fish brought in that morning.

"I heard she was dead," Wolter responded.